Dry finish as an aftershave, wet start as a carbon filtered water, sweet at a zinfandel, and tart as half-sweet lemonade. You’ll forget this is wine until the spirits chase the strongest sensation: It tastes like “red pop” at the start of every sip. Wash down the jalapeño steak and havarti this red and it zips like bubbly.
Old and dry with a sleeper of water in follow. Without the unspeakable, this medalic red has an over-suggestion of forgotten earthiness. It’s finish isn’t too strong in the chest, but it feels frail and precious. The nose hits well before the tongue, the dry, fragile silk shimmers down, and all that’s left is a paper-thin memory of what we wanted to last forever. Taken with fried Taiwanese leak flatbread roll.
Rudy and richly royal with one thought and a half of zinfandel. Not as cherry as her friends; she’s from the lane laced with cranberry for the bees. Oakily moist, leaving a dry tongue with wet cheeks. Yet, not to be found is evidence of tannin. Taken with spicy, Aussie beef prepped medium after a bath in Tabasco soy. Still, the almost Cajun beef cries up from the bowels for evermore to help digest.
The best of medicine delish! Oaky on the tongue front, richly wet at the mouth back. Not so tannic as it is an oasis that comes with its own desert for dessert. Happy as cherries, tasteful and concentrated in flavor. This has all the things we secretly love about cough syrup, but don’t tell on the bottle.
Taken with medium steak, brie, and omelette a la kimchi. Who thought wine suited a late night breakfast. But, the brie—together with this red in your maw and you’ll forget which is which. Even if you could remember, you’d never never want to.
Royally bold in a deep confidence, it doesn’t pose. Nothing pungent about it nor any need for attention. Light as feathers, but an impression of weight so grand it begs question of legend and origin. Medium tannin and unusually filling, though it needs a steak cheese melt, and don’t hold the mustard.