I don’t usually review alcohol—prefer to support local and keep my opinions to myself—but this one forced my hand after landing on the Fez list of 2026. The Spring Vale Pinot Gris promised “subtle and moreish,” which is a bold claim for something that tastes like it’s actively trying to leave your mouth. Even a desperate pairing with plain Smith’s chips couldn’t rescue it, and that’s saying something. I genuinely considered holding my nose just to get it down, which isn’t a great sign for a wine meant to be savoured. The aftertaste lingers in that uniquely confusing space between bitter and oddly tangy, like it can’t decide what it wants to be. Label says subtle and moreish—I say subtle like a car alarm and moreish in the sense that I’d like less.