Petite Sirah… you vampiric little vixen.  My people at Cast did a wizardly job of conveying the intrinsic splendor of this varietal. Dusty plum and smoke-set dark chocolate steps and skips across your senses, nose to tongue.  Like a closing tune from a New York jazz quartet, late late night in Brooklyn.  This bottle has theatricality, sincerity, and scope.  Memorable and haunting, daunting, thought-taunting.  I think about it between sips, what it’s thinking and what else it wants to say as oxygen finds its way into its flavor fray.  The color alone… a stage.  Yes I know, many other PS’s are dark like this, but I contend they’re not.  They’re NOT.  Enrapturing edges and center– verse atop verse.  This wine has a place in tonight’s paragraphs and later chapters, surely.