Cabernet Sauvignon. Pitched. Transferred. Transferred again. And again. And maybe a third time (or is that four?)
Finally oaked. In this case French light toast. I like vanilla.
also I took this picture at least eight weeks ago, so it's been bottled already. It still has a tinge of youth, despite all the shaking and racking and incalculable tracts of time. But it has the makings of greatness.
For now, we wait.