Damon had this 6 years ago
Reminds me of the afternoons spent foraging for porcini in the shadow of the great Cyclopian volcano, but baked in the scorching Sicilian sun. Stewed strawberry, sweet damp forest, a zephyr of sulfury volcanic breeze and a surprising, almost cab franc memory of roasted sweet pepper. Tannins that grab your inner thigh enough to rouse your attention but recede so as to not be obscene or distracting. Good bloody juice. — 9 years ago
Long forgotten in some backwoods Colorado wine shop's mini-fridge, and procured for about half of market rate after 15 years of bespoke provenance rolling through alpine summers and frigid winters. The fresh flavors long having evolved... euphemistically "matured" into deep nutty butterscotch and aged gouda and pear cider on the palate, and a deep gold on the eyes. In all honesty, this Phoenix like anomaly pairs extraordinarily with an aperitivi of parm and salumi after a day's cross country skiing in single digit mountain air. — 5 years ago
Fresh picked strawberry from an octopus' garden dusted with the cigar ash from the Great Cyclopian humidor , not quite under the sea but more on the volcanic slopes looking over the Mediterranean on a late summer's eve. Is this a light red or a heavy rose? Who cares? Drink up! — 9 years ago
Wet newspaper rolled around my socks and aged "in fossa" until you bring to the bartender's attention that this swill is f'ing corked like a m'f'er. And then he opens a fresh one, pours a glass that you let sit for 15 min while nursing your rye Manhattan (twist, no cherry) and are finally rewarded with a vineferrous money shot of cocoa powder, tobacco, and fruits from the Dark Lord's orchard and you gratefully sign your soul away for another swirl. — 6 years ago
It's a cool summer evening. Grandfather pulls out his branded cherries, plumped by their steeping in the liquor. The smell weaves with the open bottle of anisette on the table, the damp pines outside the open window, and the subtlest char from the wood cooking stove as the embers glow into the evening. — 6 years ago
Like a thick cut bacon sandwich on a toasted, dried cherry ciabatta. Ginormous wine that smells of over 15%, but clocks in at 13. Certainly the bittersweet chocolate and earth tones the label speaks of, but with a lovely green thumb just under the surface. Is that broccoli rabe? — 9 years ago
Damon Kornhauser
Damon had this 5 years ago