Chased Into Another Sunrise
TASTING NOTES: “Kirsch liquor, orange peel, red licorice, and sandalwood. Whirling brings crème de cassis, rhubarb, cherry compote, green olive tapenade, and dry herbs. The mouthfeel is playful and mouthwatering, with tons of red fruit, citrus, and savory tones. The mid palate is lively, with a perfect combination of sweet and savory flavors, and remarkable texture and finesse. The wine finishes vibrant, with a kiss of red fruit sweetness, spice, and a mellow grip to make you crave another sip. Beautiful now, you can enjoy this deal of a wine for the next 8 years.” (AbV 13.5%)
VARIETALS: 78% Cabernet Sauvignon, 22% Syrah
BARRELS: Not specified.
PAIRS WITH: N/A
THAT REMINDS ME OF: Solaksen Vineyard, one of the sources for this wine, has a name that sounds like it belongs in a Norse saga.
Solaksen. Which, if you squint at it the right way, looks like it might mean something involving the sun — and you wouldn’t be wrong to squint. Sol is indeed the Old Norse word for sun, and she was a goddess who drove the sun chariot across the sky every day, pursued eternally by a wolf named Sköll who was trying to eat her. No days off. No calling in sick. Just an infinite cosmic commute with a wolf snapping at your wheels. Norse mythology is absolutely packed with this kind of relentless, unglamorous heroism — gods and giants grinding away at their appointed duties while the universe slowly slouches toward Ragnarök.
What’s striking is how tired the Norse cosmos seems compared to, say, the Greeks. Olympus has drama, sure, but Zeus mostly throws lightning bolts from a comfortable altitude. In the Norse version, even the sun is running for her life. Odin sacrificed an eye just to get wiser. Thor’s whole deal is traveling long distances to hit things with a hammer. These aren’t gods lounging on cloud furniture — they’re farmers, essentially, doing hard physical work in difficult conditions on exposed slopes, hoping the harvest comes in before something terrible happens. You can see why a family that’s farmed the Royal Slope for forty-plus years found the metaphor worth naming a winery after.
