Ichor of the gods, a brooding garnet-gurgle sliding down your gullet, prancing like silken garters caught in the rush and tumble of whitewater rapids in a narrow gorge, and then your lips will break free to swirl gently back and forth within turgid eddies of darkest cassis, candied raspberry and cedar smoked bacon. Now, slice a few wedges of Asian pear and dip them one by one into powdered cocoa, and then you will perceive that a veiled mizzle is falling upon the rich earth at your feet while beguiling petrichor vapors rises up your left nostril like dancing cucarachas. So now you’d better add just a pinch of sharp Chiquilin ahumado to seduce the senses like a fine whack of leather across your rump. Another classic Le Cuvier Cab: perfectly excessive, but with sturdy grip on your tongue followed by a drawn-out finish within a world of minerally plum wrapped in ripe black cherry.