Capital letters on the label for a capital CHARDONNAY. Pineapple tarte Tatin, cinnamon bacon pancakes made with baking soda, very American-themed. There’s that fatty, salty electric type of sensation rounding off the mouthfeel. A truckload of flavour. 18-wheeler. This is a solid block of Chardonnay’s DNA and artifact taken to a mega-sized level. And you chew on it, and you chew on it and it opens up and lifts the back palate penetrating long and deep. YET, it manages to grace with a soft, talcum powder (baking soda?) and slate-like touch. There’s so much to unpack, it’s a very detailed wine. It’s peaches and cream, shaved nutmeg and thick grapefruit skin. There’s sweetness and spice. Utter power. Walks such a fine line between being hungry for more and being full to the brim. Just escapes the flabby, the too oaky, the inelegant loud type. So powerful you can overdose but you keep coming back for more. Just what I did. This is, in essence, the statement of excellent quality and winemaking skills. No doubt you’ll get your satisfaction here.