The strange allure of wine tinnies

Some years ago, on a trip up America’s Pacific Northwest, I spent a night in Portland in a hotel that was depressing in the way that not-quite-posh, not-quite-cool hotels can be. As part of its attempt to inject a sense of pizzazz into my cavernous room, there was a welcome pack whose starring feature was a can of Pinot Noir – the size and shape of a Diet Coke can, with a joke on the side about this being ‘soccer mom’ wine.