You follow the pop of the crown cap like a battle cry in an enchanted forest. The wine fizzes in your glass, pale gold and misted with ghostly haze—an ancient field blend of over eleven native white varieties, fermented wild, bottled alive. There’s citrus, stone fruit, something tropical—but it’s shifting, ungraspable, like a spell half-whispered in the dark.
You sip, and it’s like catching moonlight in your mouth. Juicy orchard fruit tangled with pineapple skin, a slight grip from its short maceration, and bubbles that don’t tingle—they beckon. There’s funk too, but it hums beneath the fruit like the warning growl of something divine.
Then the feast appears. Seaweed-wrapped oysters. Scallop crudo slicked with kelp oil. Kumquats glazed in smoked honey and fire. You’re not eating anymore—you’re surrendering to ritual. Salt, sweetness, and fizz roll across your tongue like prophecy.
This isn’t a wine. It’s a summoning. And you’ve already crossed the threshold.
Region: Dão, Portugal Grapes: Field blend of local white varieties
