For me, the worst thing about being a wino is probably the dilemma of choosing something to drink while you’re on your own. My partner should’ve been here for dinner tonight, but United Airlines declared his plane broken – something to do with the electrics – so he’s stuck in Chicago for the night leaving me with a simple question: what to drink with some leftover pork tenderloin, green beans, shallots, and mushrooms?This wine seems to do the trick just nicely: it’s not so expensive that I feel bad for not sharing – and more importantly, it worked wonders with the savory accidental broth left behind from the food. Thank you, Waitrose, for your lemon myrtle whatever; it really made the sauce.Even seven years past harvest the wine seems Barney purple, exuberant and fruity. The nose is classic Aussie shiraz, rich fruitcake, more cleavage than is proper, overripe plums stewed with cloves. There’s just a hint of something medicinal there, too – almost Russian aftershave that is never worn, simply drunk, with suggestions of woodland herbs used to make it all taste a little bit less like alcoholic poverty.I digress: this really is lovely and very much itself. I’m glad no one is asking me if this is like a Côte-Rôtie or a Hermitage or some other Old World wine: this is living proof that we’re doing just fine on our own in the New World, thank you. Yes, I suspect there’s a praiseworthy assist from a French fôret somewhere, but that’s certainly allowed, isn’t it?Wonderfully full and chunky in the mouth – I am somehow reminded of Wynona Judd here – the fruit still doesn’t seem perfectly integrated with the oak; of course, it doesn’t really matter. The impression to me is of visting a natural history museum: drinking this wine is like examining the rings of a California redwood or looking at geologic strata deposited over time. The line, such as it is, is parallel: fine, gentle, nervy acidity at the top; rich damson fruit with a hint of bottle age in the middle; at the bottom, fully resolved tannins grounded in dark loam. As wines go, this one is polychordal: it’s a neat trick and one the winemakers really should be immensely proud of. It’s a delight to drink, especially with the pork and beans.Leasingham
Price: $15
Closure: Cork