Wine Review 3/17/2017

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Recently I had the pleasure of relishing a glass of HAUNER 2013 HIERA TERRE SICILIANE with three members of my beloved girl gang. The sensations and taste-trips that sprang from the first glass are noted in all their surrealness below. A side note: something about this wine made me jump from the self to the other  in ways other wines haven’t. A second side note: something about this wine makes me call out to the dear collective powers that are lager then my single life with a confused but wholehearted Thank You! This wine is amazingly delicious.

So, like I said, omg. I have yet to meet a Sicilian wine like this. It’s so bright thousands of years of volcanic ash can dull not a single note. The first sip begins with a bright orange, tangerine infused, sticky, sugary film that I sense forming across my toes like a snow flake melting in reverse. Then the flavor held in my mouth creates a sensation that jumps to my heart, your heart, and the skin that stretches over this most wonderful, life giving, love shattering organ. This skin is touched and soothed and covered in the orange tinted, translucent, warm, sugary liquid then licked off by the loving tongue of my choosing and your choosing. Then slowly, perfectly tart, warm, green apples roll under my armpits. And something in the back of your throat and in your glands makes you look up. My mouth opens. From the second sip emerges the image of a grown woman licking lime juice off a light green, velvety petal in the sunshine at the edge of a garden, this image plays out in my mouth. We both notice a floating plastic form in the distance, purposelessly drifting on a lake. Is it florescent blue? Your eyes take in this disorienting shift of material while I notice the feeling of cool stones on the bottom of my feet. The stones are walking up and down, alternating pressure on my souls like puppy paws on a family member. My neck warms up. Within the third sip emerges sweet and sour candies, you know the ones, sour patch kids perhaps. They have been chopped with a large kitchen knife into tiny pieces and bundled in a smooth, open-weave, gauzy fabric and are being rubbed against the skin at the very back and top of my throat. Warm tangerine juice appears once again this time tiny drops are squeezed onto the back of my tongue and mixed with equally warm berry juice. This whole taste-trip has me open, sun soothed, and awake in dream state that I can’t wait to live again.

I stop here. But the wine goes on. It receives 5 mind tongues for touching that skin stretched across my heart alone.  But truly this wine moves beyond my rating system and into a realm where one only senses and communicates with rainbows and light spectra. It’s so good.

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