These century old vines are the type that folks pull over on the side of the road to paint. Juicy raspberry fruit greets the palate as wafts of licorice and cinnamon saturate the senses. Pleasant loganberries and faint prune jam reminisce of an earlier era Zin. In the mouth, there’s a tease of a sweet spot, though it finishes dry, lingering for a while with afertastes of long ago days of molasses and baker’s chocolate in the pantry. This gentleman of a Zin can be at the table as an old friend would invite himself or he could sit outside with a pipe or a cigar to officiate the waning sun.