This a tough wine about which to write, because it is designed from the ground up for a completely different consumer than myself. It's off-dry - not my thing - and oaked within an inch of its very existence. It's pleasing somebody, though. I was taken aback by the numerous four- and five-star reviews online for Apothic Red. It's supermarket-priced at right around ten bucks.
The name is inspired by the Greek word, apotheca, which is defined as a repository or storeroom where wine was kept. I've seen wines named after natural beauty, mythological creatures and spaceships in France, I've never before seen one named after a warehouse.
It's very dark in the glass, black almost. A purple ring around the edge is the only thing differentiating the color from, say, motor oil. The nose is amazingly oaky. Fire, smoke, burning things - all these traits come across with the fervor of a four-alarm blaze. Those grapes are there - Zinfandel, Merlot, Syrah and Cabernet Sauvignon - but it's like "Where’s Waldo" to find them. Sweet oak is what you taste. And put the emphasis on sweet. This is one of those wines made exclusively for millennials who just got rid of the training wheels last week, so pardon me if I don't seem too enthusiastic. The oak isn't supposed to be the whole show in a wine.
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