Dark, dank rosiness, and that’s… basically… it. Other than searing heat and an acidic wash bereft of fruit. Quite a curiosity–this wine–and it’s not *bad*, just the mind spins: WHY? at every turn. Gaseous in nose, all dirty earth and acridity, black beyond comprehension, a plummy core to make Zin-freak hard, an old-school chub to tantalize Carignane-bro, and a grasp of chalk and infinite darkness to make Mourve-fan roll in their grave. A serious decant is begged for and reveals… basically… nothing.

Fans of self-punishment will revel in its glory; self-afflicted scars of fruitless obscurity will awaken fresh and oozing; California-geeks bent on bothersome non-conformity will rave; bottom-line here is rarity and rigidity. Fruit a gasping, dried-out non-event, all wind-driven shells of tomatillo nothingness, mired in petrol vapidity with a very-slight side of dusty cherry. Harsh and acidic, the non-existent berry swelling to minuscule levels inside a rasp of texture only a mother could love. This will be a part of the club-shipment you open with piqued aplomb and immediately set aside for something worthwhile. Very little merit in the glass here.

2018 T-VINE Charbono Frediani Vyd Calistoga Napa Valley 14.7


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