Ramblings: Style v Substance (3 of 4)

A sense of place

If you accept that a sense of place is one of the principal pleasures of wine, then it becomes natural to seek out a variety of distinctive goûts de terroir. I would suggest that, historically, the Australian industry has chosen not to cultivate a series of intricate regional identities, preferring instead to view regionality more broadly or not at all. And this has often served us well. Grange, our greatest wine, embodies this approach to wine, where an identifiable style of the highest quality is achieved by using appropriate raw materials without preciousness with regard to regional origin.

I think it’s telling, though, that we have only one Grange, whereas there are myriad top French (and Italian, and German) wines that are inextricably related to, indeed that leverage powerfully off, their regions. As complex as are the rules relating to AOCs, their very existence provides support for the idea that a product’s origin, it’s regional identity, can be a powerful indicator of (perceived) quality. So whilst a 1er Cru Burgundy may not be a good wine, chances are one’s initial impression is that it might be.

In addition, the complexity associated with Burgundy’s patchwork of vineyards, whilst perhaps forbidding to a newcomer, promises endless exploration and riches to the dedicated wine enthusiast. These nuances aren’t covered up; rather, differentiation between this or that soil type is an inherent mark of the top end. Terroir is priced into the product, and consumers lap it up. Not that it’s purely a matter of marketing. The Old World lesson here is that, as a matter of course, we gravitate towards a more and more nuanced feel for regionality as a culture of wine production matures over the decades and indeed centuries. It appeals to our natural urge to overlay taxonomies and to organise what may begin as randomness. It creates a journey for us to follow. And, perhaps most powerfully, it creates the tantalising prospect of an ultimate wine — a wine that best represents a specific intersection of variety and region.

On the subject of ultimate wines, Mollydooker and its kin may represent the ne plus ultra of a particular trend in Australian wine. Broadly, this trend is represented by large scale red wines, perhaps high in alcohol, often limited run, historically popular in the North American market. They are often associated with specific wine regions in Australia: McLaren Vale and the Barossa Valley amongst others. Indeed, they have helped raised the profile of these regions substantially in the international market. Further, some such wines have achieved the rare feat of conferring on specific vineyards (or even plots within vineyards) an amount of prestige. One would usually think of Burgundy when beginning to understand a region in terms of its patchwork of terroirs, but our hard-hitting red wine styles have been amongst the few in Australia to encourage scrutiny to this level.

What’s interesting about some of these wines is they combine an identifiably indigenous style with a sense of regional identity. They are, one might argue, sui generis, both authentically Australian and authentically regional. No matter one’s personal taste, it’s worth acknowledging they represent a breakthrough direction of sorts. And, further, that this future might represent the future of all Australian wine.

At the other end of the stylistic spectrum, there’s the Hunter Valley. The Hunter is well known for its Semillon which is generally regarded as a singular wine style on the international stage. Historically, too, Hunter Shiraz has carved out its own niche, occupying a more delicate, medium bodied position than our full blooded red wines. Despite possessing some of the oldest vines in Australia, indeed the world, the collective portfolio of Hunter wines is, to my view, short on insight into these individual treasures. This is why the work Tyrrell’s is doing with its range of wines is so important. By identifying especially notable vineyards or plots within vineyards and bottling their contents, wines like the Tyrrell’s 4 Acres Shiraz move us in the direction of a Burgundian model of terroir. The results, I would argue, are distinctively Australian wines that capitalise on their uniqueness whilst acknowledging the beauty of a fine-grained understanding of regional character. These wines, though they borrow an Old World approaches to region, could never be made anywhere else. And they taste it.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Domaine Séguinot-Bordet Chablis Premier Cru Vaillons 2006

Mealy, flinty nose that shows markedly more tension than this same maker’s Chablis tasted recently. It’s tighter and less broad in fruit character, even as winemaking is a more obvious influence. Very attractive, actually — complex and elegant, with fruit sitting squarely in the grapefruit zone. Highly sniffable.

The palate shows good focus and general zinginess. There’s also a reasonable degree of mealy, lees-type influence in the flavour profile that provides a nice counterpoint to tight, bright fruit character. On entry, very refreshing and bright, with ultra-fine acid firming the wine’s line. The flavour profile is extremely well integrated and this allows one to focus more on refinements like shape, flow and complexity. Reasonable intensity, though not mouth-shattering either. A lovely mineral lift through the after palate seems to linger for an unreasonably long time, generating both satisfaction and the desire for another glass. Very dry, very fine finish.

The price of Chablis being quite reasonable, it’s worth springing for the higher levels of quality, as one’s satisfaction scales, to my taste, in proportion to outlay, if not more.

Domaine Séguinot-Bordet
Price: $A39.50
Closure: Cork
Date tasted: December 2008

Domaine Séguinot-Bordet Chablis Vieilles Vignes 2006

Interesting wine, this one. I guess we come at most established wine styles with a set of expectations that serve, correctly or otherwise, to orient our enjoyment and criticism. The risk is, of course, that we stop judging wines on their merits but rather by their adherence to an abstract idea of what they ought to be.

Take this wine, for instance. One the one hand, it shows all the flinty minerals one expects of a good Chablis, yet overlays this austerity with much richer pear and overripe apple fruit that is quite unexpected and, initially, a little disconcerting. But, relaxing into its aroma profile, there’s an integrity to the way each element comes together that’s perhaps left of centre but no less legitimate.

>On the palate, quite high toned on entry with minerality playing a key role. Acidity is fine and full, nicely three dimensional. It’s only towards the mid-palate that one realises there’s a there’s a barely adequate level of intensity, although there’s a good level of flavour complexity to keep things interesting. Nicely round pear fruit and a sweetly floral note sit astride a core of more savoury notes. As the after palate rolls on, a subtle butterscotch flavour begins to emerge, becoming a highlight of a finish that is easygoing and deceptively long.

A very drinkable Chablis that shows soft, round fruit flavour alongside more typical (and typically challenging) minerality. The winemaking is well judged, and one only wishes there were a notch more intensity to be wrung from the grapes. Not an apex of typicité, but still tasty. I have one of this producer’s 1er Cru wines for tasting soon, and look forward to a step up in fruit quality.

Domaine Séguinot-Bordet
Price: $A28
Closure: Cork
Date tasted: December 2008

Penfolds Bin 28 Kalimna Shiraz 1998

Mentholated violets dominate the nose, which is straight out of a heritage candy shoppe of the sort you’d find in the California gold country (or Ballarat, I suppose). There’s a very rich, liquid smoked chocolate, coffee nose as well; it somehow doesn’t smell particularly old. It also strangely reminds me of waterblommetjebredie, a South African stew with a peculiar indigenous plant in it that’s vaguely like weak spinach or strong cress; it’s a watery, slightly meaty, slightly green smell that’s appetizing for sure.

Initially disconcertingly acidic, length isn’t so great at this point in history, tapering off quickly to a sort of stewed prune aftertaste. It’s weirdly like dealcoholized port, not particularly delicious; if I had some inexpensive brandy around, I’d probably add some to the glass in hopes of creating something more palatable. Still, it’s interesting enough for what it is, not entirely dead yet, and oddly flavoursome. Over time, you get used to the shock of it and what you get is almost a lamington sort of deal: bright, rich red fruits, a certain coconut aspect, and the dark toasted chocolate from the barrels as well.

OK, ten minutes later and I’ve changed my mind: this is delicious.

Penfolds
Price: about US$16
Closure: Cork
Date tasted: December 2008

Fun fact: This was one of the first bottles of wine I ever bought; back in the early days of eVineyard.com (the company that eventually took over Wine.com), they had a ridiculous deal where you could buy bottles of wine for a penny each or something (I really should go find the receipts and scan them), so I lined up a dozen coworkers and we all ordered discount wine. Given a business plan like that, it’s a miracle they’re still in business in 2008!

Domaine des Roches Neuves Terres Chaudes Saumur-Champigny 1998

An older Cabernet Franc from the Loire Valley.

Some bricking but mostly a rich, dense garnet. The nose is appealing, with sweet hay and a touch of dusty library, plus a bit of mushroom. We’re a long way from fruit bomb land here, the aroma profile being quite angular and savoury. There’s also, perhaps, a hint of brettanomyces here, coming across as a meaty (verging on shitty) note, but it’s certainly subtle enough to slide into the mix without overwhelming anything.

The palate is all about line, slinky elegance and elusiveness. It’s also about fruit, quite sweet really, and unexpected considering the savouriness of the aroma profile. On entry, a cool burst of leather and sweet berry fruit, the latter taking over as the wine moves to the mid-palate. There are also assertive tannins, very fine, a little unevenly distributed, and very drying. Some good complexity here, with a range of barbecued meat type flavours in addition to the core of fruit. Overall, the impression is lean and bright and a little unclean. Leathery notes float over the top of the wine’s finish, which is of good length.

If ever a wine were a matter of taste it would be this one. It’s a bit stinky and I suspect this isn’t terroir-related. If you can get past the faults, though, there’s some interest here, not least a lithe, elegant line that communicates the pleasures of structure better than many wines.

Domaine des Roches Neuves
Price: $NA
Closure: Cork
Date tasted: November 2008