The jute carpet you smell is a summer house baked by the afternoon sun. Dreamy. Until you’re snapped out of your haze with a smeary tang like a slide trombone. Dried apricots with their puckered tartness. Cooked rhubarb pinging your mouth with acidity. Finally, the minerality of this signature Riesling walks you out to the rocks on the edge of the bay. Calm.