Oh, dear, Oh dear ! I shall never live this down.
Yesterday I spent the morning preparing pomegranates and strawberries to make a sangria with my own home-made wine. Admittedly, the pomegranates were a little over-ripe and I had to discard some that were going soft. But the remaining fruit looked good, bright ruby in colour, shiny and firm, so I soaked them confidently in sugar and wine. When my friends arrived for lunch I poured out the sangria.
One friend looked at it very dubiously and asked, “What are these white things floating on the surface ?” Another remarked, interestedly, “I have them too and one of them seems to be moving !” I looked and concluded with horror that they looked like maggots. My polite friends now permitted themselves to admit that they thought so too.
So I strained the drink and added some more dry wine. It tasted fine to me, but then so did the original version which I had already drunk quite happily. My vision is, admittedly, not good.
Surprisingly, my friends declined to have any more and settled for tonic water instead.