Zema Estate Cabernet Sauvignon 2004

Interesting bunch, these 2004 Coonawarras. It was obviously a good vintage, but what’s fascinating to me is how each maker interprets their fruit in the context of an acknowledged Australian “classic” style. So far, three wines (Leconfield, Wynns, and this), three quite different interpretations. Perhaps it’s misleading to discuss regions in terms of a singular style. Sure, there are common elements, but it’s the differences that tell the most compelling story.

Initially wild on the nose, and a bit hot, but settling quickly into classic Cabernet notes of leafiness and cool dark fruit. There’s vanilla/cedar oak too, a fair bit of it actually, but the fruit has the scale to contain it. This isn’t a shy wine at all — the nose is quite expressive and the whole thing feels generous.

The palate continues this theme with immediately accessible fruit flavours wrapped in a textured, chunky mouthfeel. Although not quite full bodied, we’re squarely in “big red wine” territory here, fruit-driven and mouthcoating. Notes of red and black fruits (with perhaps a prune or two thrown in) dominate the middle palate before giving way to more astringent flavours like brambles, black olives and tartly unripe berries. I like this progression. Really good consistency through the palate, with no dips or dead spots. Fine, ripe tannins start to blanket the tongue towards the finish. Pretty good length.

This is the kind of wine you’d want to pull out in the middle of a convivial dinner party, perhaps just as you’ve dragged that lasagne from the oven, piping hot and rich with béchamel and Bolognese. You’ve worked your way through some sparking, a riesling or two, and you’re ready for the main event. Crowd-pleasing.

Zema Estate
Price: $25
Closure: Cork

Bonny Doon Ca' del Solo Dolcetto 2006

Refreshingly, this is probably the first bottle of wine I’ve ever seen with a complete ingredients list, ranging from the unsurprising (grapes) to very surprising (untoasted wood chips!). I’ve been thinking a lot about Bonny Doon lately, especially in terms of the sudden economic crash last year: for most of my adult life, companies I’ve worked for have been obsessing over growing the business, increasing market share, and simply getting bigger rather than working hard to create better products, improve people’s lives, and realize long term benefits from their investments (as opposed to quickie returns by way of gains in share price).

Randall Grahm and Bonny Doon seemed to have done much the same thing for most of the 1990s: they went from small to huge, growing into six digit production ever year, worrying about SKUs at big box retailers and all of that other fun stuff. And then suddenly, four or so years ago, he sold off all of the big brand stuff, spun off the medium brand stuff, and pledge to concentrate instead on a different mission: don’t make a lot of things, but make it well, make it deeply.

Especially now, as I watch companies implode when they realize that their businesses are unsunstainable because they don’t create things people want or need, just endless marketing plans and blueprints for mergers and takeovers, I marvel at Mr. Grahm’s decision. I’ve made similar decisions in my own life over the past few years, opting to own a cheap car instead of lease a fancy one, live in a reasonably sized house instead of one that could host a sleepover party for all of the Dallas Cowboys (or their cheerleaders); it’s always seemed a little crazy but suddenly it seems sensible.

Anyhow: on to the wine. I’m no fan of Italianate anything save for moscato d’Asti, so I figured I owed my friends John and Mark this bottle. They’re no fans of California anything, especially Zinfandel, but found themselves drinking a Ridge zin tonight – so here I am with a bottle of quasi-Italian wine.

Upon smelling it I was briefly reminded of biscuit dough, but that passed quickly. Upon reflecting, it smells more like nondescript rich red wine, not particularly varietal (at least not that I notice: I’m not particularly edumacated when it comes to Italian grapes at all). Color-wise it’s a lovely rich, inky purple that is immensely appetizing, staining the sides of the glass when swirled. It’s hard to pin down the smells, though, other than faint French oak (and that could be imagined; that was on the label as well) and some kind of linear, pure fruit… something like dusty blueberries.

The shock is in the mouth; after so many Californian and Australian reds, I’ve grown accustomed to that sort of hulking flavor profile. Instead, the first thing you notice here is bright acidity, thankfully very well tempered by a smooth tannic spine overlaid with spicy red fruits. The tannins are fairly mouth coating but pleasant; the fruit seems to again hover on its own level, not explaining anything about what it is. There’s a sort of metallic-mineral effect as well, and a very dense fruitiness that reasserts itself before the slow fade-out of the finish; it’s moderately complex and fairly idiosyncratic.

If you like Italian wines, would you like this? I don’t know. I can say, however, that it’s far less Californian than simply something else: much like the Marlborough Montepulciano I tasted last week, this is a wine that is appealing on its own terms and unlike much of anything else planted nearby. Still, I’d be fascinated to know how “properly Italian” this tastes – I’m afraid I just don’t have the background to say.

Bonny Doon Vineyard
Price: $20
Closure: Stelvin

Domaine Côteau de la Biche Vouvray Sec 2005

I spied this while at lunch today and couldn’t resist buying a bottle.

On the nose, apple and pear plus a collection of somewhat prickly notes that remind me a little of pies baking in a slightly-too-hot oven. It’s very distinctive and quite forward, expressiveness growing as I sit with it through the evening. On entry, the most notable element is a thick, round mouthfeel that is quite unexpected after a relatively tight nose. Hence, the wine has good impact and presence. Labelled “sec,” there’s no overt sweetness, although fruit flavours are quite forward and soft in the context of the style. Apples and pears and, dare I suggest, grapes are the primarily flavours, overlaid with that distinctive marshmallow and toffee halo that one sees in some Loire Chenins. I wish it had a bit more incisiveness and bite, as well as a notch more intensity. A little tame through the after palate, the wine is of average length, seeming to taper off too quickly relative to its punch on the middle palate.

An easygoing Vouvray that provides a good hit of Loire goodness for not too much money. For my dollars, though, there are probably others that represent better value.

Domaine Côteau de la Biche
Price: $A31
Closure: Cork

Yalumba Hand Picked Barossa Shiraz + Viognier 2002

How often do professional wine writers smell something and think to themselves “Oh dear God, it’s yet another Barossa shiraz with some age to it” and quietly frown, wondering how they’re going to say something exciting and original about yet another wine of hundreds that are superficially the same? Fairly often, I’d guess.

This is yet another Barossa shiraz with some age to it: an initial burst of jammy fruit tempered by marked bottle age notes at the finish of a good sniff. It’s fresh black cherries with cola nut and just a hint of horehound.

The initial attack of rich, sweet Barossa fruit is quickly swept aside in favor of a somewhat tannic, then revoltingly medicinal (honest: this tastes like American cough syrup does, and I’m not a fan) note that disappears quietly into an unremarkable finish. With aeration and patience, this does prove itself to be a well made wine but ugh: that flavor is so strongly reminiscent of childhood medications I took to relieve the itch associated with chicken pox that I really do need to go find something else to drink.

Recommended only if you didn’t grow up in the USA.

Yalumba
Price: $30
Closure: Cork

Wynns Coonawarra Estate Cabernet Sauvignon 2004

Quite a savoury, complex expression of Cabernet, totally different from Leconfield’s 2004 effort. This wine shows a classically leafy aroma profile, lean and a little angular, with some graphite and smokey cedar in amongst lithe blackcurrant fruit. There’s an interesting (and slightly odd) earthy note, plus a light edge of confected red fruit too. A lot going on here for a young wine.

In the mouth, equally lean but with a sour thrust that I find delicious. The entry is deceptively smooth, as it’s not until the middle palate that both sourness and fruit weight begin to register. It never reaches any particular heights in terms of presence, and at times it tastes a little dilute, but I enjoy the fact that this is a light wine, nimble and sprightly in the mouth. Tannins are firm and start to take over on the after palate. They’re a little raw at the moment and feel unevenly distributed, but add a welcome rusticity to the mouthfeel. Reasonable length.

If you must drink this now, make sure you accompany it with food, as this will smooth out the structure and fill the wine in to an extent. I think it will drink better as a more mature wine, and suspect it will transform into one of those ephemeral 1970s Coonawarra Clarets that, as aged wines, sparkle with decaying delicacy.

Wynns Coonawarra Estate
Price: $25
Closure: Cork

Ridge Mataro Pato Vineyard 2003

Going by the label on the back of the bottle, I shouldn’t have waited so long to open it – but it doesn’t seem to matter too much.

It smells like strawberries and cream and/or refrigerated ground beef, but I honestly don’t mean that in a bad way. There’s a briary sweetness hinting at old age there too, blooming into old leather and cologne, oranges and cloves with a good swirl.In the mouth it’s, well, odd: initially a touch sweet, quickly replaced with milky chocolate tannin and savory red berries. Then, suddenly, the wine rears up with a harsh whack of acidity, explodes with alcohols, and settlies down into a long, harmonious finish of citrus peel and nutmeg.

It doesn’t all hang together particularly well; it’s like watching a Hollywood blockbuster with five screenwriters, two of them uncredited. Sure, every scene is a pleasure unto itself, but the narrative arc is just a little bit lacking here.

That being said, it’s surprisingly delicious and moderately complex. Bandol it’s not, but it’s a fine drink.

Ridge
Price: US $30
Closure: Cork

Seppelt Jaluka Chardonnay 2005

A couple of years ago, this wine wasn’t especially rewarding; tight, unyielding, totally bound up. Yet the intensity of its fruit shone through a clasped structure, so I purchased a few bottles for later tasting.

It’s quite different now. For a start, there are distinct flavour influences from time in bottle, mostly toast and crackly caramel in character. These ride atop juicier white peach and honeydew melon notes, themselves straddling vanilla cream. A precisely layered aroma profile. In the mouth, powerfully intense fruit flavours rush over the tongue with military precision — despite relaxing enough to allow a fuller expression of its fruit, this wine remains a focused experience. Acidity is quite prominent but noticeably less assertive than on initial release. The after palate and finish are especially lovely, with a blanket of sweet fruit gently settling in the mouth, lingering on and on, then smoothly tapering away. Quite complex, shapely and elegant.

Without wanting to imply restraint, this wine is quite an intellectual experience that contains its sensuality within a precisely etched framework. I’m reminded that, sometimes, clothing is infinitely more sexy than full frontal nakedness.

Seppelt
Price: $A30
Closure: Stelvin

Offcuts: Flight 3

I recall we consumed these wines over two or three nights. Certainly, it all happened in Queenstown, around Christmas.

Before heading off to the most unlikely (and wonderful) Christmas dinner one could imagine, we downed a bottle of Domaine Emilian Gillet Viré-Clessé Quintaine 2002. I think this wine’s a bit of alright and had been keen to share it with Chris since my first tasting. Gratifying, then, to observe Chris’s enjoyment of what is an unusual and delicious white Burgundy. According to Ross Duke, Jean Thévenet (who makes this wine) picks his fruit in tranches at quite different levels of ripeness, including late picked, Botrytis affected fruit. This is evident in the quite startling array of flavour influences, and a lusciously round mouthfeel. Fabulous wine, great value.

Thinking back, we also managed to drink a bottle of 1996 Mount Pleasant Lovedale Semillon, though exactly when I can’t recall. As per my previous note, this wine remains a beautiful baby, showing nascent signs of maturity but still prickling with youth.

At some point in the next twenty four hours, we opened a series of Shirazes. From the first sip, it was evident Chris’s bottle of Cayuse Vineyards Cailloux Syrah 2006 from Washington State’s Walla Walla appellation would be the wine to beat. I’ve never tasted Syrah with such a flavour profile before. Explosively fragrant, this wine smells of bright red and black fruits, spice, tobacco, some pepper and a cascade of notes I feel ill equipped to describe. The palate matches the nose’s level of impact with powerful flavour that steamrolls across the tongue. It’s not at all heavy, though. This wine is almost expressionist in its character — vivid, emotional, even a bit uncontrolled. I loved it and was very sad to see the end of the bottle. My wine of the trip, without a doubt.

Many wines might suffer in comparison to the Cayuse, and on the day this was the fate of a bottle of Seppelt’s St Peters Shiraz from 2004. Dan and I felt it was a little bretty — certainly, it never tasted quite right, with a thinly acidic palate and not much stuffing. My last tasting of this wine revealed a balanced, elegant wine of some luxury, so I can only conclude we struck an inferior bottle.

Not so much suffering in comparison to a particular wine as an entire wine style was our next bottle, a Lake’s Folly Cabernet from 1999. Note to self: don’t mix older Hunters with young, fruity Shiraz. Lots of regional stink here and, though it showed true to type, this wine requires the sort of leisurely, isolated contemplation that none of us were in the mood to provide. The next day, I retasted this wine and enjoyed it a deal more. As always, a polarising style, for which I remain grateful.

A 2006 Wendouree Shiraz was just the ticket to revitalise our palates. This is seriously young, yet not as forbidding as I had anticipated. Sure, there’s structure to burn, but the primary fruit is so clean, pure and deep, it’s a pleasure to taste right now. Very dark berry fruits and eucalyptus are the main flavour components. By the next day, it was tasting markedly better, structurally more integrated and with greater elegance. If it’s not yet a wine of overt complexity, its correctness and poise provide ample compensation. A wine with its best days ahead, and one that I’d love to retaste again and again.

I guess we were Shirazed out by this point, because our next bottle, also courtesy of Wendouree, was a fortified Muscat of Alexandria (a blend of the 2004 and 2005 vintages). Not a wine to pick apart, this is designed for easy, hedonistic enjoyment. This is an unusual fortified wine in the Australian context, being relatively fresh and light as a style. Piercing, rich floral and marmalade notes dominate. Delicious.

Offcuts: Flight 2

There isn’t much else to do in Invercargill two days before Christmas except open a whole bunch of wine. Or so we told ourselves. Earlier in the day, we had visited the Southern-most point of the South Island of New Zealand, so Pinot Noir seemed an appropriately extreme varietal for our evening tasting.

Starting with the obvious, then, we opened a bottle of Jacques Cacheux & Fils Vosne-Romanée Aux Réas 2005. I’ve tasted this wine before, and my experience of it on the night was consistent with my earlier tasting. Very much on the funky side, this isn’t a world-beater but shows intense perfume, an attractively nimble character and enough finesse to keep things interesting.

Warmed up by now, we headed straight for the heavy hitter: J.K. Carriere Antoinette Pinot Noir 2005, from the Willamette Valley in Orgeon. It’s amazing when you consider this wine travelled first from Oregon to California, then from California to New Zealand, and finally to our hotel room in Invercargill. Even more amazing is knowing, the whole time, 2,4,6-trichloroanisole was swimming around in the liquid, destined to disappoint us. Chris was especially disheartened, having lugged the bottle a long way for us to taste together. I couldn’t resist having a quick taste. Although quite tainted, a velvety mouthfeel and considerable density of fruit flavour were evident. What a shame.

In an effort to perk up our spirits, we moved on to Picardy’s Tête de Cuvée 2005 from Western Australia. What a provocative wine. People talk about bringing the drama of a particular site or terroir to the bottle and, for better or worse, this wine exemplifies that particular approach. It’s wonderfully elusive, with a range of high toned notes including orange peel, flowers, spice and smoke. In the mouth, it’s light yet with notably intense fruit character. Great drive through the palate. Chris was prompted to note a certain similarity to Bourbon, and I get this through its extravagantly fragrant profile. Despite these qualities, it tastes so marginal one wonders how the wine was ever made. It teeters on the edge of not existing at all. A beautiful one-off, then. I still can’t decide whether I like it.

We chose a local to finish off the evening, being the 2007 Mount Difficulty Pinot Noir. A total contrast to the Picardy, this wine belongs to the meatier, more subsantial Central Otago camp. Heady notes of Pinot fruit, nutmeg and ripe tomatoes, says Chris. I found the palate quite acidic and a little disjointed, though Chris had less trouble with this aspect of the wine. We ended up drinking it over three days and, by the final glass, it was singing a much smoother song, almost glowing with gentle fruit and a harmonous, velvet structure. Lovely wine.

Leconfield Cabernet Sauvignon 2004

There was a bit of hype around 2004 Coonawarra Cabernet, so I bought a few examples but somehow never got around to tasting many. Consequently, I’m coming at this wine a fair while after its release. As an aside, I must be one of the few people on Earth who didn’t mind Leconfields “greener” wines from the 90s, and I recall the 1998 as an especially fine release.

This is a different beast altogether, though; there’s no hint of unripe fruit here. In fact, there’s barely any Coonawarra leafiness either. Instead, the nose is a mushroom cloud of smooth, elegant fruit notes and violets. There’s a hint of Christmas cake too, partly in the savoury nature of the fruit, and partly from sweet spice. Quite seductive. In the mouth, more savoury fruit that strikes me as somewhat Italianate. Medium bodied, there’s rich tobacco, smoke and licorice. It’s almost voluptuous in profile and mouthfeel. Perhaps I served it a tad too warm (easy to do in Brisbane’s Summer heat) but the wine seems to gain an extra plushness at this temperature. Tannins are soft and fine, and slightly sweet.

This is a luxury wine.

Leconfield
Price: $A27
Closure: Stelvin