Rio Negro Matias Riccitelli Bastardo

In the sun-dappled hills of Jura, France, Trousseau grapes hang like clusters of rubies amidst the verdant vines, exuding a heady mix of wild strawberries and earthy forest floor. As the wine swirls in the glass, notes of bright cherry and subtle spices leap forth, mingling with whispers of leather and autumn leaves. Each sip is velvety, a tapestry of rustic charm and heritage; one cannot help but wonder—how does a single grape carry the weight of centuries on its shoulders?