Ever chosen a wine because you liked its name? I was browsing through my “cellar” tonight, looking for pleasure, and came across a bottle of this. “Fixin,” I muttered to myself. What a funky village name. Equal parts slang and exoticism, I figured its catchiness was as good a reason as any to pop the cork. I have, in fact, pondered this wine before. It’s not a great wine by any means, and its value is questionable, but I still rather like it, perhaps even more in its slightly mellowed current form.
Largely, my earlier note remains valid. The nose is a curious mixture of the mellow and the coarse, lumbering nougat oak trampling over seductive, gamine red fruit. It’s the Noomi Rapace of Red Burgundy, petite frame disrupted by too-large boots and a generally put-on punkish demeanor. The palate is perhaps more attractive, and I especially enjoy the rough and tumble character of the tannin. Satin berries against spiky acid, sharp flavour atop blunt weight. This is, if nothing else, a clash of components and, whilst this could be read as a sign of coarseness, I find its discord exciting. The restraint I noted in my earlier impression has receded, and this is now flowing more freely than I remember. It’s all the more enjoyable for it.
Brash, clumsy and a good deal of fun.
Jean Tardy & Fils