This one walks in wearing a floral shirt, holding a plate of French toast, and smelling like it just stepped out of an apricot orchard. It’s charming, a little sweet, and surprisingly polite.
The palate? Imagine marmalade and cinnamon doing a slow dance on fried dough while burnt oak chaperones awkwardly in the corner. Sweet, but never that guy who overshares on the first date.
Then the finish kicks the door open—rye spice in one hand, marzipan in the other, and just a hint of leather to remind you it means business. Medium length, but memorable—like a Tinder date who quotes Camus and pays the check.
It doesn’t quite gel as a full symphony, but each section plays beautifully on its own. Take your time. Sip slowly. Reflect. Or don’t—and just enjoy the weirdly delicious ride.
