With so many wines moving in and out of the store, choosing one to buy—let alone write about—can be a near-impossible task. This week, however, I had the privilege of trying a wine that is beloved by experienced wine drinkers, difficult to get, and even harder to keep on the shelves.

This wine was originally only sold at The Ten Bells, a wine bar in Manhattan’s Lower East Side; now, bottles are sold at various wine shops, but only in small quantities. We were lucky enough to get a couple cases.

Its name is misleading in a pretty weird way. Although it’s called “Si Rosé” and looks like rosé in the bottle due to its pink hue, it’s actually an orange wine made from Pinot Gris and Gewürztraminer. Both are white grapes used to make white wine, but their purplish skin accounts for this wine’s salmon-esque color (and that of other skin-contact wines made from these varietals).

Now to the sort of funny part—apparently, “si rosé” is pronounced the same way as “cirrhosis” in French, which explains the skeleton with a pronounced liver on the bottle’s label. Dark.

Cirrhosis reference notwithstanding, I (unsurprisingly) loved this wine. I wish I could turn its aroma into a candle scent. Gewürztraminer has a characteristic nose of lychee, which can also be described as sweet rosewater. It had additional notes of grapefruit zest, blood orange juice, and yellow peach, with Pinot Gris adding the stone fruit element.

The floral aroma translated to the palate, where there was also a refreshing, mouthwatering acidity. I almost felt like I was drinking a paloma, or a blood orange mimosa. Brunch vibes? The finish was long and dry with smooth tannins and a subtle salinity.

This wine was pleasurable to all my senses—sight, with its gorgeous color, smell, taste, and feel, with a light-medium body and an acid level that stimulated my entire mouth. It even made my ears happy, because who doesn’t love the sound of wine pouring into a glass?

Once again, I drank this wine on a Sunday evening, paired with salty finger foods, but this time, it actually worked as a pairing. It was god-awful freezing outside, and the rain that persisted all day Monday had already begun. I found myself, for the second week in a row, drinking a glass of wine that would have most definitely been better enjoyed on a hot, sunny summer day, with the sounds of waves crashing in the background. Or, perhaps, at a picnic in Battery Park, alongside a lovely charcuterie board of salty, dry cheeses.

It's still red season, of course, but wines like this have been giving me the mental vacation I so desperately need during the hell that is January and February in the northeast.

Christian Binner, owner and winemaker at Domaine Binner in Ammerschwihr, Alsace, France.

The producer, Christian Binner, is kind of a legend in the natural wine world. Located in Alsace, he inherited the vineyard from his family, who has been farming grapes and making wine in the region since 1770. Domaine Binner is certified organic and biodynamic, though their methods have been organic pre-dating official certification. Christian took over and did his first harvest in 1999, still farming the vines planted by his grandfather in 1930.

Interestingly, all Binner’s wines are made and aged in a bioclimatic cellar that was created in the 2010s according to “anthroposophical” principles, with only local materials and natural shapes. They don’t fine, filter, or add sulfites. To add to the sustainable nature of the Domaine, Christian’s girlfriend, Michele, makes oils and cosmetics from the grape seeds left over after pressing.

My advice? Buy this bottle (or two, or three) and save it for the first really, really nice spring day—when everyone gets overzealous and busts out their summer clothes and open-toed shoes and flocks to every green space in NYC, resulting in a sort of city-wide party and collective carefree energy that reminds us again why we all live here and suffer through these depressing winters.