Bright, Velázquez walnut, gentle fade to the rim. Hints of green recall ancient Boal, dignified for all that. The aromatic is only modestly lifted: dried fig and toffee apple at first, then something briny, heather maybe. Woodsmoke and fireplace, yes, but also something fresher, more poised, and almost modern: preserved lemons, even wild strawberry, something from the orange grove. This carries to the palate, where butterscotch and almonds are evidenced; not quite marzipan—too restrained and venerable. The acidity sings clearly after all these years, nothing too volatile by way of descant; the overriding impression is of clarity and precision, tarte tatin sweetness, brocaded soft silk tannins and flavors vaguely recalling macerated cherry but ethereal, elegiac energy quietly resonant. | 95