Impenetrable black black black ridiculous black ruby and staining so fiercely my Riedels will never be clear again. A blast of straight powdered granite hits you first off. Straight granite dust, cutting concrete dust. Wet mineral but so intense I am not sure of a descriptor–haven’t quite seen it can’t quite put my finger on it–fat Crayola Juicy Fruit blueberry smoky coffee-grounds Tuaca wet sandpaper chocolate damp clothes after a BBQ–fat on a cold grill, all contained in a shell of opulence not seen in the other offerings I’ve run through this month–except maybe the first–a straight Merlot.
In the mouth, more absolute ridiculousness in terms of concentration and feel. You claw your way through the entry, scraping your teeth and tongue free of this unctuous obliterating substance overwhelming everything. BUT!!! Here’s where things get different. REAL different from the hi-octane plush-bomb bling-cabs representing huge extraction and concentration. Here’s where things take a serious turn toward real wine and not just how much oak, tannin, “chocolate/tobacco/blackberry” and *perceived sweetness* we can somehow jam into a bottle and call it Napa Cab and charge $175 for it. Here, things go a completely different direction. As the initial chalkiness subsides, a bright acidic streak appears–on one hand high and piercing but at the same time earthy and grounded in perfect minerality. Sumptuous layers of tobacco and leather DO find their way into the mouth-feel of this wine, but only as a back seat to the vibrant structure and flat-out VERVE of this bottle and not as a coating on everything no one can get past. And the fruit never stops.
Heavily decanted, the nose picks up far more rich fruit than originally. This is an all-evening wine–NOT something you pop and decide. It is chronically wound up in itself so tense, it shows little bits here and there–everywhere–but only with patience and understanding. It needs air, gobs and gobs of air–and not in a way a weird or *off* wine needs air to regain its footing, this beauty just needs air to unravel the beauty crammed into it. This is not a wine for everyone. Many tasting it will find it too intense–intimidating, even. Green bitter brier curls in on the finish, actually softening what you KNOW is coming soon–AND THERE IT IS–lip-pursing tannins on ELEVEN.
It appears I have saved the best of this producer for last. For first and last, actually. From my 2013 horizontal, the first wine of this I ADORED, everything in the middle were serious players in their own right but nothing earth-shattering. It’s no surprise I liked the Reserve Cab less. That is a very well documented fact with my palate. In fact, after tasting the Reserve, I decided then and there this ‘regular’ bottling was most likely going to be my favorite. I know myself way too well. THIS wine is the one. This thing right here. I would highly recommend a horizontal of this producer–as I did, order every bottle they produced across the year. You get so much interest that way. But this is the one to watch. Order a few extra of this one.
Even now, revisiting it alongside my keyboard, the bouquet and mouth are morphing in wondrous directions I have not mentioned. There just aren’t enough words to describe this wine. So young, so raw so ridiculously good without any sweetness or polish that is typical in the notes of amazing vintages, this thing is actually a REAL wine I wouldn’t even recommend drinking now or this year or even next. Buy three cases and open one a year. Yes, do the math on that.
2013 WORLD’S END Cabernet Sauvignon Stagecoach Vineyard Prichard Hill Napa Valley 15.5