FAMILY | 2022 GRENACHE - SYRAH - MOURVEDRE

This bottle is a return.
Not a throwback — a reckoning.
Back to the beginning, when the only design I had was ink and intent.
When I would handwrite and hand-sign every bottle.
When I’d smear a little ink, miss a line, or bleed through the paper —
and that was part of the beauty.

The world has gotten so polished.
So “finished.”
So perfectly presented and sterile.
But not this.

This bottle is a departure from the machine-made.
It’s a hand-written note, not an email polished by ChatGPT.
It’s a signature that bleeds, not a DocuSign line.
It’s the pops and cracks in a record —
not the plastic perfection of autotune.
It’s hard-earned patina over high-gloss paint.
It’s real. It’s flawed. It’s alive.

This is a thumbprint on the glass — proof that I was here.
This is my imperfect penmanship,
as I pour my heart onto the page one line at a time.
It’s what happens when you stop editing yourself
and let truth spill out in its rawest form.

I want you to know this was made by a person, not a process.
Not an algorithm, not a brand.
A human being — calloused, tired, grateful —
who still believes that the ground can love you back
if you give it everything you have.

This wine wasn’t produced.
It was earned.
Pulled from the earth one cluster at a time.
Hand-sorted. Bled over.
Fermented in handmade barrels that were once living forests.
Rested by time, not by schedule.
Because time, and only time, makes things better.

We named it FAMILY this year.
Because that’s what it is.
It’s messy.
It’s earned.
It takes time.
It takes love.
It takes care.

It’s beautiful not because it’s perfect —
but because, somehow, when everything comes together,
it finds harmony.
And harmony is perfection.
Not polish — harmony.

There are six wines inside this bottle — six voices.
Three Syrahs from three hillsides, each stubborn in its own way.
Grenache from both vineyards — one quiet, one wild.
And Mourvèdre — the philosopher in the corner, keeping everyone honest.

They argue. They overlap.
They fight, then forgive.
Until what’s left isn’t chaos, but music.
A song made of contradictions.
A symphony of imperfect parts
that only sing when they surrender to one another.

That’s family.
That’s farming.
That’s faith.

We live in a time obsessed with finish —
with perfect smiles, perfect fonts, perfect everything.
But I don’t want perfect.
I want true.
I want honest.
I want cracks.
I want wrinkles.
I want earned.

I want the slow satisfaction of a life that was actually lived —
of something that took longer than expected,
but turned out better because of it.

This bottle is the taste of work.
Of dirt under nails, of hope that won’t die.
It’s what happens when you give your days to something,
and it gives them back in flavor and grace.

This isn’t a product.
It’s a prayer disguised as a blend.
It’s a scar you can taste.
It’s proof that the old ways — patience, family, dirt —
still make something worth drinking.

So when you open this,
don’t think about the polish.
Think about the ink.
Think about the thumbprint.
Think about the people who made it —
the ones who still believe in handwritten notes,
real handshakes, and long goodbyes.

Pour it deep.
Share it slow.
This is FAMILY 2022.
And it took everything we had to make it this way.

And on the back of the bottle, it reads:

Let our branches reach in all directions,
Let our roots remain as one.
— The Saarloos Family

Because we believe there is nothing more beautiful that the chaos of the branches —
reaching, stretching, colliding —
but always, always remembering
our roots are one.

TASTING NOTES

FAMILY — 2022

The first thing you notice isn’t flavor — it’s presence.
A stillness.
Like stepping into a room where everyone’s already gathered and mid-story.
Then the wine speaks.

Grenache starts the conversation — bright, red-fruited, generous.
It’s the first laugh at the table.
Ripe strawberry and cherry glide through the nose,
brushed with wild herbs and a hint of sunbaked earth.
It’s the one that shows up early, talks loud, and brings the joy.
Grenache is 56% of this year’s FAMILY — the voice that carries the melody,
the heart that won’t quit beating.

Then comes Syrah — the backbone.
33% of this blend, and every bit of it earned.
From three hillsides, three distinct tempers:
Fatman brings muscle,
Little Boy brings precision,
High Hill brings grace and restraint.
Together, they carry black plum, cracked pepper, smoked meat,
a brush of graphite and the echo of oak staves drying in summer heat.
It’s the voice that steadies the room when everyone else gets loud.
The gravity that keeps it all from floating away.

Then Mourvèdre — the wild card.
Only 2%, but it moves the room.
The philosopher, the wanderer,
the one who only speaks when it has something worth saying.
It lingers in the background with whispers of peppercorn,
a brush of leather, a trace of dried violet.
It’s mystery and restraint —
the silence between the notes that makes the song worth listening to.

Together, they’re a conversation that turns into harmony.
A collection of voices that shouldn’t agree — but do.
Not because they’re the same,
but because time, patience, and faith taught them how to listen to each other.

That’s FAMILY 2022.
Ripe without being loud.
Structured but still human.
A little dust on the boots, a little grace in the step.
It opens like a memory —
red fruit turning dark, spice turning to smoke,
edges softening with air until everything settles into balance.

The tannins are there —
firm but kind, like a handshake from someone who means it.
And when it’s gone, it leaves warmth behind.
Not sweetness — warmth.
The kind that comes from knowing you’ve shared something real.

This isn’t a wine that performs.
It doesn’t need to.
It just tells the truth —
in Grenache, in Syrah, in Mourvèdre —
in all the noise and grace that make a family what it is.

FAMILY 2022
56% Grenache Noir · 33% Syrah · 2% Mourvèdre
Six voices. Two vineyards. One story.
ONE FAMILY