There’s a strange peppery note on the nose of this wine – almost like a low quality mixed peppercorn grinder you bought on clearance at Ross Dress for Less last January and promptly forgot about. There’s sort of a soft quality about it too; it’s very hard to describe, but it’s almost like an overstuffed velour couch you passed out on in your parents’ rumpus room back in the 70s. With air, there’s also a decidedly feral funky there as well: fairly meaty, and possibly Brett (enough to provide interest, not enough to really turn you off).It’s fairly full in the mouth, with drying tannins on the finish; the flavor’s very hard to describe, so all I’ll say is that (surprise) it’s no wonder that this grape seldom is vinified and bottled all by itself. It’s not that it’s unpleasant; it’s just that it feels somehow incomplete on its won. There’s kind of medicinal, almost horehound fruitiness, but other than that? I have to admit that I don’t get it.Kent Rasmussen WineryPrice: US $20Closure: CorkDate tasted: December 2007—After I wrote this post, I spent a few hours with this wine… and grew to appreciate it much more. It may not be the most forgiving or enjoyable wine, but at least it seemed to be very much of itself. I suspect that the winemaker did a very good job indeed at allowing the grape to express itself; the naturalness and honesty of the wine was very impressive.
I gotta say, your writeup makes this wine sound really interesting, as much for its difference as anything else. Especially the velour couch bit. I love wines that sneak up on you over the course of an evening.
There aren’t many wineries in Australia doing a straight Petit Verdot. Pirramirra in the McLaren Vale is a notable exception. Must try some more.