Sourness can be oddly savoury. So removed from sweetness that your brain wonders if it’s salty. Best is that liminal place full of vast fields of rhubarb and unripe plum. You can’t quite pigeonhole it, you struggle to get it, and it compels you to taste it over and over again. No amount of winter spice can tip it one way or another; chutney vs compote in a battle that’ll still be raging when this Northern Californian zinfindel is old and dusty.