Jancis Robinson über:
Foscarino
The sunny abundance of this wine is almost deceptive – you could so easily get swept up in the brilliance of brightness, in the generosity of its fruit, without realising just how serious, layered and structured it is. You could almost miss the piano-string tension in the cavalcade of clementine, nectarine, golden currant, ripe pear, quince and apricot fruit. You need to let the cold clatter of the fridge fall back to feel the wine drift into something more luminous; to taste the vineyard herbs, flowers and stones embroidering the edges of the spaces; to feel the wine breathe deeply; to notice the quiet pause of gravitas at is centre. And then, when you do find this, you will taste the slipstream of acidity, as lustrous as phosphorescence in a still pool. And you will taste honey. And you will feel a golden glow. And you too, will pause, hold the beauty of it in your mouth for as long as you can.
