Swick Wines
Miúda Graciano
Perfume of black cherry, leathery, dried out plums, fig marmalade, and the deep essence of a fistful of ruby saffron. A menacingly intoxicating bouquet.
So much flavor. Smacks of chewy raspberries, and the tartness of a cherry pie. Balanced with the brightness and liveliness of fruits of the tropics. I’m thinking a tart, unripe mango, the type that grows in India, but that my grandmother planted a decade ago in our backyard in Florida, which now bares hundreds of wonderfully tart green mangoes every year.
A little sweet spice right at the end, and you get a complex dance of flavors. One that makes you think that wine is the manifestation of a miracle growing from the ground.
Perfume of black cherry, leathery, dried out plums, fig marmalade, and the deep essence of a fistful of ruby saffron. A menacingly intoxicating bouquet.
So much flavor. Smacks of chewy raspberries, and the tartness of a cherry pie. Balanced with the brightness and liveliness of fruits of the tropics. I’m thinking a tart, unripe mango, the type that grows in India, but that my grandmother planted a decade ago in our backyard in Florida, which now bares hundreds of wonderfully tart green mangoes every year.
A little sweet spice right at the end, and you get a complex dance of flavors. One that makes you think that wine is the manifestation of a miracle growing from the ground.