Refermented on the skins of dried grapes, it's rich and refined with bitter cherry and a quietly dangerous depth. It lingers the way Lecter's voice does long after Clarice leaves the cell.
For readers who know the film's version, a classic tan-label Chianti with taut acidity and dusty cherry. Bright on the surface, tannic underneath. Like Clarice holding her nerve.
A chess match through glass between a young FBI trainee and a cultivated monster. Every conversation is a scalpel; every silence, worse.
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