A leap of faith towards the Existenz of florescence
This rosé is a quirky looker: direct-press Regent juice added to an open vat where Neuburger and Riesling were already fermenting on skins. Neuburger brings richness, Riesling the zing and Regent (German hybrid, my father's 1990s heritage) the right savage touch. All grapes from our Slovenské vineyard, so it's a true field blend. Each vintage, I only made one barrel like this: first time in 2017, then in 2018 and 2019. No sulfur, of course. Also, no topping up, so the '17 and '18 barrels developed some flor which gives the wine a slightly nutty note; together with the long, bright acidity, it tastes almost like an untamed, layered white, despite its vivid cherry-like colour. (I told you it was quirky.)
My original idea was to sit on it a bit more but then my importers literally vacuum-cleaned all my Forks & Knives Rosé, before the rosé season even started. And I hate to see a damsel in distress. And always have sth up my sleeve (= down in my cellar). And I tasted this wild child and saw it’s ready. So enter Transcendent.
The name comes from a typical “distracted winemaker” story: for the “label” of this wine, I experimented with a can of bright pink spray whose label read “Fluorescent”. Which somehow mutated in my mind overnight so I thought the spray was called “Transcendent”, and liked that a lot as a sign, because what goes more beyond our usual perceived reality than a rosé under flor?! The next day, I was a bit sad to discover that my conceptually perfect puzzle of wine and its name was a fallacy and that the spray is actually called Fluorescent.. but hey, that doesn’t make the wine any less transcendental, right?
Only 3 barrels made. Each bottle a hand-painted original with label by me, the distracted winemaker helped by my dear wife, my sister and the mighty Transcendental paint.
Wanna drink this? These are the guys to ask where to get my wine in your country.
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