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.