Don't Stare

Dank dirty nose, roiled in vitamin B12, squished bug and a little lettuce from the crisper drawer. Peat and stewed fruit, the cherry dull and buried, everything bold, but the crushed rock bolder–not shrill minerality, rather a solid, tertiary glow to dankness and despair. Not fresh by any means, but it’s Petite Sirah at 11, so what were you expecting?

Conflictingly pretty in the mouth, like mediocre food delivered by a hot stripper–you grant some positive nods to things you wish were nicer because the theme is there and rather lascivious. Bold and grainy, a streak of acid courses throughout, burnishing the leather and gospel-ridden ripe cranberry down into a raspy finish that is all vulgar typicity for the variety and for that you are thankful.

It could go a lot of different ways, but the way chosen expresses most of what you expected and little left to the imagination. If you have these I highly recommend drinking them. On the downhill slope and you have to remind yourself how much you love PS constantly as you work through the bold–but tired concentration and still-aggressive tannin. I love petite sirah, and with an ass like that, it gets a hard like.

2008 SPELLBOUND WINES Petite Sirah Napa Valley 13.9

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