A nose of frayed rubber-band showing through threadbare dirty thong-strap, crystalized by chlorine and sweat-addled hours in a plastic chair at the Elks Club, downwind of soapy-scrubbed concrete floors where flip-flops are merely suggested and the fat kid’s mom Marb-croaking “No running!” behind CVS shades and a Yeti-can of straight vodka. Then you taste it.
My love of inexpensive European wines aside, the ONE place you can almost guarantee a seismic shift of value toward *what the market will bear* in terms of dumping barely-palatable ripe-fests on undiscerning Americans will be #1 Super Tuscan IGT’s and #2 South France. Despite my apathy toward Languedoc-Roussillon, I actually brightened up when I saw Catalanes, thinking, “Well, we might see something interesting here,” equally endorsed by Eric Solomon in the rear. The front label should have been warning enough, though: completely bling-bro California-esque in its avoidance of substantive European info. In the mouth, it would blind most assuredly as Paso Robles. Hot and terrible, grating bits of ridiculous concentration amassed upon obese heat and cellulite-ridden acidic deficiencies with sunshine and gracious soil sucking the soul out despite #influencer’s nip-slip beckoning to the contrary and the reductive *story* on the beautiful website. Like I said: basically Paso.
2018 DOMAINE LAFAGE ‘Narassa’ GR/SY 70/30 Cotes Catalan IGP France 15.0
Stephen McConnell 