Each year that passes, the concept of infinity becomes more concrete.
As we dive deeper into the world of grapes, the more we realize how little control we have over our passions.
Each year that passes, we strain harder to hear the echos in our chamber.
The further we go, the more we feel dreams of half grasped knowledge clawing at us. Our ardor for acumen drags us like quicksand.
Each year that passes, we learn something new.
Auroch is instinct. De Chaunac, stomped underfoot and fermented on skins. Syrah-adjacent spice, encapsulated by a silk satchel of sub-perceptual Viognier.
Arid spice. Green, black peppercorns. Voltaic raw leather.
Zero sulphur, native yeast.
Chill overnight before opening. Like all of our Pét Nats, open with glasses at the ready.