This one pads across the palate with a cat’s lithe grace—deep garnet, sly sheen, and poised like it's sizing you up. The nose teases first: wild strawberry and black cherry, softly furred with forest moss, truffle, and a hint of warm leather. It’s mouthwatering and primal.
On tasting, it’s sleek and muscular. The fruit is supple—juicy red and black berries—but under those lush layers lies sinew: a whisper of mushroom earth, supple cedar, a dusting of game spice. Tannins are fierce and soft at once—like claws retracting after a gentle touch. The finish stretches long, velvet-dark, leaving a primal echo you’ll chase through moonlit woods.
This beauty demands pairing that matches its tawny depth: think venison tartare spiced with juniper and capers, laid on smoked brioche. Or wild mushroom risotto, finished with shaved pecorino and black pepper. The curveball? Grilled prosciutto-wrapped figs drizzled in aged balsamic—sweet, smoky, sharp, pure instinct.
This wine doesn’t just flirt. It stalks. It seduces. It leaves its fur—its mark—on your senses.
