William Chris Vineyards
2023 Cinsaut
This one didn't settle down. It didn't need to.
The Approach
William Chris Vineyards. Cinsaut. 2023. Texas High Plains.
Would a loud, restless wine find its footing — or just stay wild?
Small pours. Cork back in. Left on the counter. Three nights. No food. No decant.
You know that feeling under the Friday night lights. You sprint off the line. The play starts. And a linebacker you never saw coming hits you straight in the jaw.
That's the first pour.
This wine didn't ease in. It didn't introduce itself. It just arrived. Everything at once. Loud. Present. Unapologetic. The kind of thing that makes you set it down for a second just to collect yourself before you go back for more.
30 minutes later it was still pushing. Nothing had backed off. Nothing had softened. Like biting into a dill pickle straight out of the jar — that sharp bright brine that wakes your whole mouth up before you're ready for it. Not unpleasant. Just immediate. Just real.
This was the best night.
You know that moment in a song when the band finally finds the groove. Everyone was playing but suddenly they're all playing the same thing. You feel it before you hear it. The chaos doesn't disappear. It just gets a direction.
That's day two.
The wildness was still there but now it knew where it was going. Everything pointing the same way. Still had energy. Still had something to say. Just finally saying it on purpose.
30 minutes later the pepper showed up and stayed. Not the bite of it going in. The slow trail it leaves going down. You almost forgot it was there until you swallowed and felt it follow you all the way to the end.
By night three it had gone somewhere else entirely.
You know those old school buildings. The ones built before the big money bonds came in and tore everything down for something new. The ones that generations of kids walked through. Wood floors. Old radiators. The smell of something that meant something before everything got replaced.
That's what this wine smelled like on day three.
The fruit had stepped back. Something older and wilder took over. Something that was here before you and wasn't trying to be anything other than what it was.
30 minutes later the warmth settled in like early May heat in Texas. You can feel it's there. You know what's coming. But it hasn't arrived yet. Still comfortable. Still nice. Just a quiet promise of something bigger underneath it all.
The Story It Told
This wine never really settled. Day One it was wild. Day Two it focused up — everything finally pointing the same direction — and that was the night to drink it. Day Three it went somewhere earthy and old and strange.
Not every bottle gets better the longer you wait. Some reward showing up on the second night.
This was one of those.
© Jake Ruse — The No B.S. Wine Letter / Austin Texas Wine Society. All rights reserved.