Let’s chat about RS for a bit.

It has its place in the industry. Many who are starting their journey into more “serious” wine (cue eyeroll) tend to shrug it off as a low-class gimmick for those that just can’t ApPrEcIaTe a stinky Bordeaux or a cat-pissy New Zealand Sauv Blanc.

But there is a time and a place for RS. And that time is now, and that place is everywhere.

I popped open a bottle of Pét Nat today, expecting the same dry acidity I’ve come across so often in the style. I wasn’t expecting the roundness of sugar to fill my swill-sucker, and maybe my own preconcieved notions sounded the alarm in my head:

“That can’t be right.”

It was unexpected and unwelcome, at first sip. I handed the glass to my boyfriend, who so often (and so patiently,) partakes in my reviews. After announcing that he liked it, in a calm and gentle manner, I tested it again. And I found myself warming to it.

The Love & Squalor Pet Matt is derived from 100% gamay grapes, which imparts a ton of acidity. This wine is essentially a peachy raspberry lemonade on first sip. It’s tart, and zippy, and a touch of sweetness adds to the overall springtime quality that it exudes. And it lingers, oh, does it linger.

This is the wine I would take to brunch and guzzle like Prosecco, pair it with braised pork belly eggs benedict, and pretend I’m in Santa Monica in May.

Unfortunately, this pet nat has been disgorged of all of its natural sediment, which might have left it with a more satisfying mouthful, especially given that it runs on the sweeter side of the sparkling spectrum. But if that’s the extent of it’s flaws, I’ll take another bottle.