It is said that the feet of those treading poisonberries to make this wine are apt to turn green and fall off. On the other hand, if you don't mind a bit of rotgut and blindness, it will get you drunk fast.
Evenly proportioned, almost hedonistic Voignier. Opens with pork rind, hairspray and hints of anise.
Hints of vanilla, touches of oak, and whispers of fruity jam are purely imaginary in the bog-standard claret.
One would be able to detect hints of raspberry, honeydew and marmoset with one's nose, if one was a pompous ass.
Also known in some circles as Tenbrous Vintage of Exsanguinated Shadows. An extremely rare and ancient wine made by the first of monks from the Temple of Shadows. Once used in ritual sacrifices, now sniffed, sipped and expectorated by the obscenely wealthy.