2014 Domaine Abbatucci Ajaccio Rouge, Cuvee Faustine

Before the votes are counted—before you tell us you lost because democracy itself is rigged—I want to congratulate you. You did it, Donald. Plenty of us tried and failed but you succeeded. You held up a full-length mirror to the Republican Party and said, “Take a good look, bigots. This is who you are.” But you didn’t stop there. After you showed the Republicans who they were, you rubbed their Republican noses in it. You got fifteen million of them to vote for you, and that was just in the primaries. In the general, you might get  forty million.

How did you get that many Republicans to vote for you? By speaking their language: pure, spontaneous, unrehearsed hate. Like you, even though they can’t admit it, Republicans hate Mexicans, Muslims, gay people, women, the poor, the media, liberals, science, common sense, evolution, the truth about global warming, and African-Americans—especially African-Americans who excel at any activity other than sports. Most of all, when the chips are down, Republicans hate each other. And now they hate you, Donald. Now they hate you, too. Congratulations. You have arrived.

Which brings us to the 2014 Domaine Abbatucci Ajaccio Rouge, Cuvée Faustine. 

In the glass, the 2014 Abbatucci Rouge looks like trouble. The depth of its garnet color cannot be fathomed. If your taste runs to Napa Valley Cabernets or Super Tuscans, Abbatucci’s 2014 Rouge will shatter your composure. It offers too much suggestion and not enough statement. If it’s certainty you’re after, stop now. Don’t read what I’m about to say about the 2014 Rouge’s bouquet, attack, or finish. I’m not responsible for what this wine might do to your palate, your values, or the rest of your life.

The bouquet is a lesson in the art of the shadow. It’s more island than mainland, more pagan than religious, more Catholic than Protestant. The beauty of the 2014 Rouge’s bouquet is the way it tempts you to taste the wine, if for no other reason than to find out if its flavors are as mercurial as its bouquet. Again, fair warning. If you feel your blood pressure rising—if your temperament and what I’m telling you don’t agree—give up now. Don’t wait for the skies to clear. The skies will disappoint you.

All of Abbatucci’s wines are based on a simple premise: Simplicity does not exist. Complexity may not exist either. Without simplicity, how could it? The 2014 Rouge offers no explanation for the protean aspects of its flavors. From the moment you taste it, you are not in control. There are Apollonian wines and there are Dionysian wines. If you’ve made it this far—if you don’t mind walking the line between love and confusion—then you are in for a treat. This does not mean you’re enlightened, or even the good person you always promised yourself you’d be. It just means you’re open to the idea of  a wine that will change and keep changing each time you taste it.

The finish expands—and simultaneously contracts—your sense of who you are. Because, what is a good wine, anyway? A good wine is a noble liquid that becomes you, as you drink it. How you react to it and how it reacts to you are not what’s at stake. As the wine enters your body and your blood, you remain the same person you were before you drank it, except that you change. The 2014 Rouge’s finish puts an accent on that change. It opens the door to the rest of your life and invites you to pass through it. Who could say no?

So, Donald, we’ve come this far. You don’t know me. If you did, you’d hate me as much as you hate everyone else who thinks you don’t matter quite as much as you think you do. That’s the difference between us. I know you but I don’t hate you. If you want to know the truth—should I even be telling you this?—I believe you did our democracy an enormous favor by running for president. You showed us that we have a problem. We mistrust each other with such certainty—with such juvenile, self-righteous indignation—that if we keep up this nonsense, by 2020, we’ll be massacring each other in the streets. If for no other reason than the fact that you showed us how bad things can get, we owe you a favor—at least I do.

Here’s the favor. Instead of spending the next four years enabling bigots, choose love over hate. Start a foundation for middle school students, female and male, who don’t have the advantages you had. Put the same wind at their backs your father put at yours. Help them study. Help them graduate. Help them excel. The return on your investment will astonish you. By 2020, you’ll be remembered as the first rich guy who healed our wounds, as opposed to pouring salt on them. Men and women will love you for it, and not just in the United States.

Yes, you’ll have to put up a large sum of money, and you’ll have to let a committee decide which disadvantaged students deserve your foundation’s support. No more backstage surprises. No more self-dealing. At first, you’ll hate it, the arm’s length part, especially. But after a year or two, you’ll learn to love it. Look at it this way, Donald. There are worse things in life than doing what nobody expects you to do. What have you got to lose?

One Bottle is dedicated to the appreciation of good wines and good times, one bottle at a time. You can write to Joshua Baer at jb@onebottle.com.