This is a nice wine. But, let's face it, the main reason I'm drinking a Cab from Oberon Wines because of the name. Just like I get most of my leather goods and pewter jewelry from Oberon Designs (also in California). And right now, while I'm re-immersing myself in Oberon (my Oberon, that is) and even more specifically, while I'm in the midst of annotating book five--the wine book--seemed like a good time to open another bottle.
Arguably Cabernet Sauvignon is my favorite red wine. I mean, there are a few caveats. Paso Robles Zinfandels are impossible to beat, and here in Texas I'll generally pick a Tempranillo where one's available. I also have a sentimental attachment to Chianti, since that's the wine my parents drank. (Those straw-wrapped bottles of Chianti were a fixture on the dinner table every night.)
But overall, cabs are reliably drinkable.They're my go-to red wine, which is why I've reviewed so many of them. This wine is no exception. It's a very classic iteration.
Black cherry and dried cassis are the primary scents, along with a whiff of cedar and something a little earthy, maybe leather? All in all, it smells like a private library--of wood and beeswax and old, leather bound books, with maybe a touch of cherry-flavored pipe tobacco. It has a dark purple color, typically opaque and nothing to speak of in terms of legs. The taste is straightforward--dry, toasted oak, dark berries, a hint of spice. Good. Drinkable. Not surprising. I would definitely pair this with a steak, maybe with baked potatoes and roasted asparagus. I also think this seems like it would be a good wine to poach pears in. Random, I know. But there you have it.
I was actually thinking of making Sangria earlier today, but I don't think I'd waste this wine on that. It's a little too good for that. I would, on the other hand, wear a perfume that smells like this wine.
Adam took a small sip of wine into his mouth, rolling the liquid around on his tongue as he studied its flavor. It was still young, its tannins untamed, but the complexity was there; an exciting potential that was sure to improve with age. “Yes,” he said, nodding slightly as he met Carlo’s eye. “Yes. Very good.”
The winemaker shrugged, his face impassive. Adam sighed. He could never tell what Carlo was thinking. Had he just insulted the man? Had it sounded as if he thought he was telling him something that he didn’t already know? Or had he come across as an idiot--just stating what anyone could tell was obvious? It was probably too much to hope that Carlo would take his words as a compliment, a testament to his skill as a winemaker.
A relic from his grandfather’s reign, Carlo Deguzman was generally grim faced and taciturn, and Adam was never quite sure where his true loyalty might lie. He was certainly obsequious enough, at least when the occasion demanded it. But there was something about his manner that made Adam uncomfortable. On the other hand, he was a damn fine winemaker and Adam, still relatively new to the craft, was determined to make use of his expertise. He needed people like Carlo if he were ever to make Lupa e Cervo a success.
He took another sip from his glass. Like the wine itself, this place had potential. He could sense it. He was taking an enormous chance on this gamble, but the risks he was taking were outweighed by the possible rewards. Or so he’d always believed.
Carlo cleared his throat, his eyes shifting toward the door, and Adam turned to follow his gaze.
“Scout.” Adam stared at his stepsister in chagrin. Shit. She’s not supposed to be here. His glance shifted to her companion and he felt suddenly lightheaded--as though he’d had much more than two sips of immature wine. “And…Ms. Quinn. What are, ah...what a pleasant surprise.”
What are you two doing here? he’d nearly demanded, barely catching himself in time. He thrust the glass he’d been holding into Carlo’s hand, and hurried towards the women; trying to keep his face and his movements calm and nonchalant, racking his brain for something intelligent to say.
He felt his anxiety recede the closer he got to them. He kissed Scout’s cheek, and then allowed himself the luxury of transferring his glance to Sinead. For just an instant, he thought he saw uncertainty in her gaze, but he blinked and it was gone again. The smile she gave him was cool, professional--it steadied him somehow. He smiled back, reaching out to take her hand, and then frowning as he realized she was already holding something. “What’s that you’ve got there?” he asked.
“A lemon. Here.” Her laugh was like a cascade of tiny bells. She pressed the fruit into his hand. “It’s one of yours, I’m afraid. I stole it on my way in.”
“A Lemon?” Stolen? Not hardly. She could have all the lemons she wanted. He’d give her the whole tree if--
“Mm. From the tree by the stairs?”
Oh. Okay, well, maybe not that tree. Adam sniffed at the lemon, and was instantly transported back to his childhood. How often had he climbed up into that very tree, to sit hidden among the branches and pretend he was a bird?
No, not to pretend, but to dream of being a bird, so that he could fly away from this place. To wish and to hope and to pray that it might be so. To close his eyes and concentrate until he thought he almost could. Until the whole world would drop away, and he would no longer hear the rustle of glossy, dry leaves touched by the breeze. Or the hum of bees as they foraged among the sweet scented flowers. Or feel the small procession of ants, back and forth across his hand. Another moment, maybe two, and he could let go of the branch he was sitting on, and just… fall into the sky.
But someone would always find him before then, and drag him back to earth. And his grandfather would beat him for his trouble.
Adam opened his eyes. “Here, keep it,” he said, dropping the lemon back into Sinead’s hand.
Touch of a Vanished Hand
Oberon Book 5.0
Sinead Quinn has always been something of a drifter. But now, with her ex-husband trying to blackmail her, and her ex-boyfriend's widow trying to put her in jail, she has no choice but to go to ground. What better place to hide than with your family? After all, what are sisters for? Especially when you're a twin.
But the first rule of hiding out, is to keep a low profile. And that does not mean kissing your sister's boyfriend (even if he can't tell the two of you apart); rescuing a troubled teen; or taking a highly visible job as hostess of Oberon's most celebrated new inn.
Adam Sasso has always dreamed big. But big dreams beget big complications. First, his goal to turn the vineyard he inherited from his grandfather into a world-class winery is threatened by a mysterious saboteur. Next, his plan to run the finest bed & breakfast Oberon has ever seen, is broadsided by a hostess who wants to run him. Finally, it seems his fondest wish, of finding love-everlasting with the soul mate of his dreams, is about to go up in smoke when he can't convince her that they're destined to be together.
This summer, it's going to take all the wizardry in Oberon to craft a happy ending for the drifter and the dreamer.
