This is how it starts: the bass is low, the air is thick, and someone’s hand finds yours under the table. Everything’s electric. The wine hits the glass with a hazy glow—like apricots lit by candlelight—and from the first sip, it's all citrus curves and floral swagger. Garganega struts, Moscato purrs, Trebbiano just watches with that grin. There's texture here, but it's playful, not pushy—skin-on-skin without the pressure. It dances. It winks. It dares you to kiss before the chorus drops.
Pairs like a dream with Korean fried tofu, smoky baba ganoush, or a beach picnic that accidentally turns into an all-nighter.
