Ah, Nantucket. Take a deep breath and smell that salty sea air. The land of decadence and high society, an island of 20th century Gatsbys frolicking in the summer sun. Yachts, seabreeze, seagulls: the American dream. With a nod to CBS’s The Jeffersons: “We’re moving on up…To a deluxe apartment in the sky [over Nantucket].”
And what do they do in Nantucket, these captains of high society, fame, and fortune? They sail across the whitecaps in their yachts, wearing only pale red shorts and sipping the local vintage. We recreated the atmosphere by washing our underwear with red sweatshirts, taking to the sea in Ryan’s newly purchased kayak. The only thing left was the wine. The nectar of Nantucket, if you will.
Nantucket Nectars Grapeade wine was dateless; its label gave no hint of its age or origin. The wealthy residents of Nantucket drink nothing but the best. This ambrosia of aristocracy is above such sycophantic labels as age or alcohol by volume. If we were to mingle with our peers successfully, we needed to figure this wine out on our own.
The avant-garde bottle surprised us with a Snapple like pop-cap (no time for wine openers when you’re yachting). Nevertheless, we managed to open the bottle. The exterior of the beverage’s vessel is emblazoned with a clump of what could only be Nantucket grapes. Massive orbs of crimson and violet rest in quiet repose on the grass. Nantucket is a small island nation off the coast of Mass-o-chumpchump. It remains populated with the wealthy and wonderful and isolated from the plebes of the mainland. Nantucket is governed by what can only be described as a “totalitarian theocracy.” A man known only as Murray controls access to his trademark red vintage with an iron fist. Fortunately, this local wine is sold in Maine.
Grapeade shines translucently, a pale orange-red that shows little sediment. Its nose is filled with sweet, sugary grape notes, without a hint of bitterness or earth tones. Forward, fresh and dangerous. This Nantucket wine suited us perfectly.
Due to Murray’s legal system, ABV is not required to be printed. We thus have no idea how much alcohol was in our Grapeade, and we extend our compliments to the vintner on his ability to hide its flavor. The skill with which this wine was made is apparent. We noticed almost no alcohol as we drank this “ade” (an old oenological word used in Nantucket to characterize their wines).
Nectars should be drunk young and chilled, preferably on a yacht. However, the imprint on the bottom of our bottle told us that our Grapeade would be drinkable until February of 2022.
Without any trace of alcohol, the sweet nature of this wine shone through. It starts with a splash of grape on the tongue, fading to the pleasant refreshment of Nantucket spring water. A sort of granular sugar dominates the middle, leaving a nice, sugary grit on your teeth, before dropping out to leave an artificial taste of sour fruit.
You know that moment when you pee, look down, see that it’s red and say, “Maybe I should see a doctor. Oh well, it’s Ivies?” People in Nantucket do that every day. They drink Nantucket Nectars Grapeade, whether they like it or not. It is the only beverage allowed to be drunk on the Island. Be like them, drink like them. Persevere. It might seem like a long, dark road, but do you know what will be on the other side? Us, on a beach, sipping Nantucket Nectars Grapeade.
Additional Notes:
Dan: More like nom-tucket. Drink it for taste, drink it for power and prestige, drink it for Nantucket.
Ryan: That was Nan-titillating.
Nose: Doesn’t matter
Body: Doesn’t matter
Taste: Yee-haw Nantucket
$1.89 at Bowdoin Express.