A few weeks back, I got a few bottles each of two Chenins from Touraine Azay-le-Rideau on the recommendation of a local retailer who'd visited in the spring. The first one we cracked was a Le Sot de l'Ange (Quentin Bourse) 2015 Touraine Azay-le-Rideau Blanc "La Goujonnière." This has pleasant but surprisingly mild aromatics, which include a note of wild yeastiness that I associate with some ciders; it's also texturally thinner than I expected, but tasty enough: apple, minerals, and something reminiscent of the white-pepperiness of certain Grüners. We didn't do this any favors by opening it straight out of the fridge, but still, I'm a little underwhelmed. It will be interesting to see how the other one compares (Domaine Marie Thibault).
Earlier this week, another bottle of Dirty & Rowdy 2015 California Mourvedre, "Familiar" hit the spot on pizza night: playfully aromatic, bright and deep and still tasting very fresh; beauty without makeup.
Last night at Avec, the current vintage of Frank Cornelissen 2016 IGT Terre Siciliane Rosato "Susucaru." Deep raspberry color, intense dry dark fruit (as rosatos go) with lots of herbs, brightened by acidity. Uncharacteristically devoid of funk, and also of galaxy-like clouds of whatever floating around in the bottle, this is a Susucaru showered and shaved on its best behavior (and still really good). (Not sure if it's a feature of this bottling in general, as this is the first 2016 I've had, or bottle variation, or better handling en route.)
By the 250ml after we drained the Cornelissen, a Cantina del Vermentino-Monti 2015 Vermentino di Gallura "S'Éleme." Blecch: who put floral perfume in my Vermentino? No, it doesn't taste doctored, and it's perfectly okay wine, but I just need to remind myself that Vermentino gets all lily-laden down here and stay away from anything grown south of La Spezia.
Oh, and earlier in the week, a Frog's Leap 2013 Napa Valley Zinfandel, which was interesting, focused, and zippy at first taste but became a little broad and tiresome over the course of the evening, like that friendly but bloviating uncle who keeps telling the same story, and who gets louder as he drinks -- or, in this case, as you do.