Last year, we brought you the world's first "inverse saignée" Zinfandel with our Young, Wild, & Free. This year, we went bigger.
Bottled exclusively in magnums, Adios Slowly is a limited edition 2018 Old Vine Zinfandel from the LeVois Vineyard in Dry Creek Valley. While traditional methods of "saignée" winemaking bleed off juice from the fermentation vessel, ours does the opposite, filling our tanks to the gills with bright, youthful juice. The resulting wine is light, yet energetic, brimming with raspberry, cranberry, subtle apple, vanilla, and a hint of molasses to slow things down.
Our goal with this wine is to slow the f**k down and savor the sh*t in life that matters. That's why we only made 300 of these things, all in larger 1.5 L magnum bottles—just to make sure you won't rush it.
The long version:
Adios Slowly – whoever said they don’t like long goodbyes can get f**ked!
When I first tried a tank sample of our winemaking teams’ inverse-saignée of Zinfandel from the LeVois vineyard in Dry Creek, I thought, wow, this is a wine that you really need to just slow the f**k down and chill with.
Why did I feel this way? Good question. I think the first thing that hit me was man, these are the flavors and soft textures that I remember from old school Zins back in the day when I first fell in love with California wines. Nothing says California like the cool laid-back aromas and flavors of claret-style Zin—raspberry, Bing cherry, soft pepper, and cedar unfold with every casual sip and the creamy textures go on and on. Yep, this one takes me right back from my journey from innocence to experience and damn do I miss it.
We felt the ethos of this wine should really be about one single belief and that is—how do you slow the f**k down and just chill in that moment wherever you are? What came to mind for me is those times when you experience some grand event that you have been planning, waiting, hoping, saving for...and then the time comes and you go on that journey/vacation/wedding/weekender or whatever it may be and guess what, it was everything you hoped for. It wasn’t just fantastic; it was f**king magical.
But now that time is coming. You know that time when you start thinking about how this perfect event in time has to end and you start worrying about packing, wrapping it up, and saying goodbye to all of it. That anxious urge to get to that airport 2 hours early and be the first through the security line and then sit in those rows of shitty airport chairs for 2 hours to be the first on the plane to be the first that hits traffic (and f*ck traffic), to get home and do laundry and get ready for that other life, that safe responsible one that allows us to plan the 2-day, 3-day, and heaven forbid, 7-day excursions a few times a year.
Well f**k that and f**k that anxious feeling. I’m tired of it. I got one life to live and I decide no more. I’m gonna walk out on the beach one more time (yep even after checkout). I’m going to unroll that old beach blanket—you know the one we bought on that trip years ago, when we camped in Topanga and looked up at the stars and promised each other that we'd never ever become those rat-race people—and I’m gonna take another sip from that magnum of Zin we brought along for the ride and I’m gonna watch that sunset go down one more time, because if I got to say goodbye to all this, then I'm going to soak up every single f**king moment and just Adios Slowly.