Isla is the third Riesling we've released this year. It is Riesling with light skin contact.
Riesling captivates us, haunts us, and has reached its tendrils into every fibre of our being.
Imposter syndrome is a real thing. Our first reaction when tasting Isla was, 'Did we really make this?'
And in many ways, we didn't.
Ed Hughes - one of our many viticulturalist friends - grew these grapes himself. Planted them in 1999, and looked after them for over two decades.
Our native microflora transformed the sugars into a myriad of flavours, lifted and bridged by alcohol. Sure, we stomped these grapes. We decided when to press, when to rack, when to bottle. But ultimately, we played a small part in the beauty we take credit for.
Where has this obsession for Riesling come from? Why does this combination of lemon curd, petrol and kiwis haunt us so?
Shooting stars behind an overcast sky. River rocks slathered in petroleum jelly. The time you aced the exam in your hardest class.
I can't tell you why. Sometimes, it's enough to realize that certain things are goddamn beautiful and not worry about anything else.
Isla is Riesling planted in '99. Harvested by hand in 2019. Stomped underfoot, on skins for 7 days. Wild fermented. Unfiltered and unfined.