If you were to ask me, I’m thinking that there’s no time like the present to try a wine you’ve likely never heard of (menina d’Uva) from place you’ve never been to (Portugal’s Planalto Mirandês, in the larger appellation/region of Trás‑os‑Montes) blended from 15+ different indigenous and/or forgotten red and white grapes you probably didn’t even know existed (including Tinta Gorda, Malvasia, Bastardo Preta, Bastardo Branco, Formosa and Verdelho) made by a gifted winemaker named Aline Domingues, a winemaker who returned to her ancestral village Uva to make this wine.

(which makes me wonder whether this means the question is abstruse or would that make me obtuse, or would it even matter either way?)(but wait, when the going gets weird, the weird get going, right?)(Hey, I gotta go)

If I had to relate the mélange of grapes used in menina d’Uva to wines made from another grape variety, I’d probably go with Trousseau, which may or may not help you unless you’re familiar with the Jura wines from eastern-France, or maybe the Trousseau from west-of-the-west Sonoma County (Pax be with you, dude). It’s deceptively lighter-bodied, with underlying minerality and oodles of nervosité. Bursting aromatically with bright aromatics like wild cherries, pomegranate, and early-fall persimmon (a soft and fragrant Fuyu, not a tart, suck-the-life-out-of-your-face Hachiyas) that soars above the wine’s inherent tension, a cage-match, fight to the finish battle between ripeness & freshness in the glass. It’s a vibrant, textured wine with a touch of saline and a little earthy minerality that provides a frame for the food that should be on the table in front of you. It’s a wine that presumes a little focus on the part of the drinker but repays the attention handily.

The bottom line is that this is seriously interesting wine that's made for all the right reasons, and with all the right components. Worth a try for sure...