
Well, it’s definitely Zin. An over-simplified statement, perhaps, but with Zin, that’s the first–and most important–qualifier…considering the sins committed against the grape in the past 30 years. Sure, we like pinot to act like pinot and grenache to smell like grenache and chard to taste like chard, but as someone who regularly gets accused of wanting my zins to taste like cab, it’s an important distinction. This is definitely Zinfandel. A smoky sort of burnt-rubber freshness enveloping the chubby fruit, a color running brick even at this early age, a spicy tang in the nose not-quite over-ripe, not quite green, not mineral enough to be cab, the briary instincts of which charm from initial attack.
Tasting it produces a set of nuances also reflective of the variety–classically so: a rustic woodsy sense buried under grit and plummy stamina. Early acid churns a gritty sequence of structural components rarely seen since the mid-90’s, going bitter and sharp as youthfullness evades elegance but balance charms the whole spectrum. Not a speck of flab on it, no alcoholic burn or pancake-syrup toothache, the entire package screaming DCV or St. Helena from mainstay producers. I hate having to state what the wine DOESN’T have in order to define its beauty, but such is the condition of modern Zinfandel. Less is more, and sharp grainy berry protrudes in all directions, defying obesity and the entire BIGGER IS BETTER Zinfandel establishment. I could go with a touch more tannin, but this is a wine1percent zin, pure and simple.
2019 GRA Zinfandel Tres Ninos Vyd Arroyo Grande Valley SLO Coast AVA 13.8
