USCA Sonnet 23
O! learn to read what silent love hath writ:
To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit.
Wine as Poetry
In 2003 Can and Serpil Şener and Eda Aylın Genç abandoned city life and careers in favor of wine. They chose the Urla district of Izmir for their project. With its long history of wine production and favorable climate, they knew they would find favorable conditions here for their vines.
Set in the village of Kuşçular, USCA’s vineyards feel both the west and north winds of the Aegean’s surrounding gulfs. Part of a growing trend in Turkey, USCA farms all its grapes organically in an effort to begin as they mean to end; with quality. Grapes both domestic and international grow here including Bornova Misketi and Foça Karası, along with Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Syrah, Grenache, Chardonnay, and Viognier.
All of USCAs wines receive the name of a Shakespearean sonnet. Not chosen at random, the USCA team selected a sonnet they felt best reflected the personality of each wine.
USCA Sonnet 23 2014
Foça Karası is a very special Turkish grape. Aegean in origin, only two wineries work with it: USCA and Öküzgözü Winery. At the moment, USCA does not make a varietal wine with it but includes it in a Syrah blend.
Sonnet 23 2014 is a blend of 85% Syrah and 15% Foça Karası. Medium-bodied with 13.5% abv. Aromas of black fruits, dried fruit, fig, and cinnamon unfold from the glass. Sipping reveals black cherry, fig, vanilla, and cinnamon.
This wine really wants some air so I would let it breathe for at least an hour, two would be better.
Shakespeare’s Sonnet 23
As an unperfect actor on the stage,
Who with his fear is put beside his part,
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart;
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love’s rite,
And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay,
O’ercharged with burthen of mine own love’s might.
O! let my looks be then the eloquence
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,
Who plead for love, and look for recompense,
More than that tongue that more hath more express’d.
O! learn to read what silent love hath writ:
To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit.