I'd hate to strike fear, but its appearance in the glass reminds me of those dreadful sunsets we Australians have endured twelve months ago with fiery red clouds shrouding the sunset. A dark cranberry juice of sorts seems a more appropriate descriptor.
The fruit saw 24 hours on skins with 8 weeks in older French oak with no MLF.
A whiff reminds me of walking into the stone fruit section of the fruit shop during summer. Ripe plums, cherries and nectarine aromas diffuse. There's more booty than Kim Kardashian. That depth and width stretches for miles through the mouth. Rich and with a subtle peppery spice, there is an orange peel and negroni thing going on. Give it a chill and you have a barbecue wine deluxe. With a snag or chop in hand, you are in business.