Apparently I still have a thing for smug, artsy dudes. Domaine de La Chappe's “André” Pinot Noir is a wild romp through brambles of high acid raspberry, black cherries and the orange-hued innards of early summer plums, wet from rhythmic suburban sprinklers. It has these overtones of Brett and whispers of VA that make me suspicious, and somehow make me love it more. It's so easy and fun, I want to fight with it, in the same way you want to fight with a grade school crush. I want to push its buttons, because it's pushing mine. It's making me want to use the word "funky," which is my least favorite descriptor. I feel like it's poking and prodding and teasing me into submission. Like I'm going to end up rolling around on the rug laughing and screaming "ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, FINE OK 'FUNKY' IS AN OK DESCRIPTOR AND ISN'T JUST A WORD WE USE TO IGNORE TRULY FUCKED UP WINES OK OK YOU WIN JUST MAKE OUT WITH ME OR WHATEVER YOU FUNKY DICK... WAIT THAT CAME OUT WRONG... yeah, no you're right, my mom is going to be home soon."
