Clos Apalta 2017: The Chilean God You’ll Want To Sin For

Clos Apalta 2017 tasting note — bold Chilean blend, sumptuous texture, long aging upside.

Clos Apalta 2017: The Chilean God You’ll Want To Sin For

There are wines that ask politely for attention and wines that shove a goblet into your hand and dare you not to fall in love. Clos Apalta 2017 is the latter — a theatrical, unapologetic masterpiece from a slope that remembers how to keep its secrets. This isn’t polite Bordeaux-aping; it’s a long, slow exhale of concentrated black fruit and old-world composure wearing a new-world grin. If you’ve been collecting safe bets, this is the disruptive, unapologetic specimen you cellar to make your grandchildren cock an eyebrow at your taste.

In The Glass

Deep, inky garnet with a violet halo that refuses to fade. It sits like velvet in the bowl — dense, lustrous, generous. Nose opens with a dark bouquet: black cherry and cassis rubbed with bay leaf, a suggestion of smoked paprika and the ghost of wet river stone. Underneath, a balsamic tang and a thread of warm spice — clove and black tea — that teases you with complexity before the first sip even hits.

On The Palate

First impression: layered authority. The entry is plush — ripe blackberry and plum jam — but this is not fruit for fruit’s sake. Those flavors are braced by chalky minerality and a sinew of graphite that makes the fruit honest. Tannins are present, precise, like hands that know how to lift and support a melody without clobbering it. Mid-palate blossoms: leather, mocha, a whisper of cedar and that strange, seductive herb note — green peppercorn or Carménère’s signature leaf — that roots this wine in its place. The finish is long, saline-edged, and insists you take another sip as if it has more to say. Texture? Satin that can knit into silk after a decade in bottle.

Behind The Scenes

Clos Apalta is not a vanity project posing in the sun; it’s a terroir hymn sung from steep, stony terraces in Apalta — a place where vines claw for water and reward restraint with concentration. The 2017 bottling wears its pedigree without pretense: a Bordeaux-minded blend shaped by Chilean altitude, diurnal swings, and soils that give you grit wrapped in fruit. The house philosophy here is elegance married to power — old vines, meticulous sorting, oak that supports rather than dominates. The result reads like a geography lesson and a love letter at once: place-forward, but flirtatious.

Serving Tips

Serve at 16–18°C. Decant for 45–90 minutes if you’re pushing this right away — it will open like a curtain, revealing nuance you’ll miss at first. Food pairings: grilled hanger steak rubbed in smoked salt and rosemary, slow-braised short ribs with mole-ish bitterness, or a wild mushroom ragù with a slab of aged sheep’s cheese. If you’re feeling decadent: dark chocolate with espresso dust, but keep it minimal — this wine asks to be partnered, not upstaged.

Investment Potential

Clos Apalta sits in that seductive overlap: serious terroir cred with enough modern polish to appeal to collectors and restaurants alike. Historically it garners enviable reviews and retains demand outside Chile — meaning decent secondary market interest. It’s not industrially produced; allocations can be tight in good years. Cellaring window? Drinkable now for those who like bold maturity, but this 2017 will reward restraint: think 8–20+ years depending on your patience and cellar. In short: buy some, drink some, stash a bottle for that future dinner where you want to show someone what “wow” tastes like.

Final Note

Walking away from a case of Clos Apalta 2017 is a decision you’ll rehearse regret about. It’s not just a wine; it’s an argument for why terroir matters and why good wine still surprises you. Pass on it and you’ll tell yourself you were being prudent. Open it and you’ll discover why prudence is boring. Snap some up while you can — the ones that sing rarely stay on the shelf.