Hmm, let's see, smelled of alcohol, acetone and model airplane glue. But not unpleasant, even a little enjoyable. At first sip, the alcohol burned the throat, acting like a powerful disinfectant. Good for those with a cold, says Marcia (my wife). Difficult to say whether it lacks acidity when the burning alcohol plays an analogous astringent role and obliterates everything in its path. I thought the acidity might be lacking, but Marcia didn't. It was an unusual experience (for which I am always thankful) because it was alcoholic and viscous without seeming supermature or superextracted. The lack of wood further avoided similarities with commonplace high octane supershit. Reminiscent of amarone, no doubt. Like a southern amarone, without the ripasso. It certainly not my cuppa, but after the initial sting, it did not seem like I was being whipped. I guess it was interesting, with all the ambiguity of that overabused word.
Anyway, it's great that the wine is what the wine wants to be, and not what the market wants it to be, but it begged the question (in the incorrect sense of the phrase) of why choose to make natural wines in latitudes so sizzling that it is unlikely to be acid/sweet balanced without correction. A Don Quixote Complex? A Just Because I Want To Complex? A Duh, Because I Am From Here Complex? A There Are People Who Like Southern Amarones Without Ripasso So Fuck Off Complex? Hard to tell.
