Nose: There is something magical to a glass ignored. It blooms like a flower in a vase, slowly filling the room with character. And while it’s got that nose which I consider distinctly savanna which my brain translates as pineapple, tonight it feels like a tart granny smith apple peel. And red globe grapes. And heavily wooded. Two hours later, when I finally come back to drink it (oops), it distinctly reminds me of mom’s greenhouse. Chocolate tomato vines in bloom, the habanero with its bright bold flavors, stringbeans, rich moisture and decomposing leaves under foot.

Palate: Greenhouse on point. And a distinct earthy sweetness. Julie went through a phase of shopping at the hippy grocer not far from our home in santa cruz. She’d bring home sweets from the bins and I never could quite get into them. I’d only eat the licorice, leave the rest for her. Something less refined. Distinctly herbal and quite musky the more this rests. Like aged and fermented teas

Rating: 6 / 10 – This is fun. A bit on the bizarre side, and probably not a pour I would reach for regularly, but what a powerful nose at first, and a beautiful confluence of flavors.