The proper way to review a bottle of wine that’s made by a company that makes goo packets is…hell, I have no idea. Me? I cracked my bottle open and shared it with an underage kid. He happens to be my lady’s boss’s kid. He’s in college and he’s a skier. He said he doesn’t love Clif bars but he’ll tolerate them. I like Clif bars so I was curious about Clif’s Napa Valley-produced side project.
The kid said he would bbq something in his smoker for a few hours so me and the lady went over to her boss’s place with wine and 12 lagers. I popped the cork and took a whiff. So did the kid. Pretty good, we thought. I suppose I should say something about a “bouquet” but all I smelled was wine. I poured the red stuff into a fancy glass and swirled it around like I see on TV. The boss thought I was going to spill but I didn’t. Good thing. Because when I tasted it, I wanted more. The kid tasted his and shrugged. “Not bad,” he said. No more, no less.
My take? It wasn’t like Australian red wine—which more often than not, beats the shit out of you and tastes like unsweetened raspberry jam. No, it was more subtle and easy drinking. Sort of like a Bourdeaux. I don’t plan on filling up my Camel Bak with it for a day of ski touring, but I’d definitely buy it again. It tasted no better and no worse than many of the $15 bottles of wine I’ve had this year. Plus, you support a company that supports skiing. And that tastes good.