This 2016 Barolo Brunate by Giuseppe Rinaldi felt like a mysterious woman you might discover in an old, hidden jazz bar. The lights dim, the room steeped in stories and secrets. She stands slightly apart, spine straight, with a faint, self-assured smile on her lips. She wears nothing flashy, yet she has an elegance that can’t be bought. There’s a coolness draped over her, a quiet, proud restraint. Nothing about her is loud, but she draws every gaze.

You approach cautiously, a mix of curiosity and respect, sensing that she lets only a few close. At first, you feel her cool distance — maybe it’s the wine’s salty notes, slightly austere and firm, like an unapproachable first glance. But then, little by little, she opens up — just as the Brunate does in the glass. There’s a gentle sweetness, hints of raspberries and plums that slowly emerge. Like a mischievous smile she occasionally flashes, as if to say, “I’m not just what you think.”

With every sip, every breath, the wine reveals more of its depth. There’s a dark, smoky note reminiscent of leather and spice, like someone who’s lived through adventures and wears their scars with grace. The finish? Long-lasting, with a hint of licorice, leaving an impression you won’t soon forget — just like that encounter with her. There’s something mysterious about her that lingers long after the evening ends.

This 2016 Barolo Brunate by Rinaldi is powerful and layered, and while it already captivates, I can imagine its true essence will only fully bloom in the years to come. Tasting it now offers a glimpse of what it will one day become — a mature, wise presence that will leave a lasting impact. A wine like that woman you may meet only once, but that never quite lets you go.