Dark dark impenetrable purple with no edges.  Steely initial.  Decanted.  Fat and heady bouquet, glycerol-ridden and floral.  Ample alcohol.  A lovely decaying-leaves note supersedes the lusty oak in the nose.  Insidiously ripe and mouth-filling upon entry.  Shockingly cab-like in all ways up until the fruit washes over your tongue and it is unmistakable old-school Petite Sirah.  Blisteringly, mind-numbingly tannic and dense.  Positively ‘chewy’.  Fruit dense and concentrated… extracted, even, and slight pruney tendencies get immediately drowned in the clawing finish of backbone which leaves your palate screaming for mercy long after you have swallowed.  What an interesting wine.  I would love to say this bruiser would blossom in another five years, but there just isn’t fruit to support that argument.  This is absolutely at its peak and the lovely nuances of the nose will concede to the prune-juice long before the structure gives an inch.  It really is fun to drink at this moment, but darkness presides over everything.  Continue with caution. 14-7  ♦