Now we’re talking. This wine, made from estate grapes grown biodynamically, is also the product of several purposeful winemaking choices: the grapes were crushed, some skin contact allowed, fermentation occurred in French oak puncheons, all this followed by six months of lees contact. All of these techniques will typically create texture and weight, as well as the development of some secondary flavours, facts that are easy to discern when tasting this wine.
The aroma is flinty and tight, with notes of citrus flower and stone dust overlaying hints of richer fruit flavour. I like the sense this wine gives of not yielding too easily; flint and smoke give the aroma profile a real blade, and it never entirely gives way to a sense of softness. Nice tension indeed.
In the mouth, a story of texture and fruit ripeness. This has plenty of flavour. Indeed, the mid-palate swells with rich candied citrus peel and luscious fresh juice, yet it is preceded by a taut entry and followed by swathes of savoury texture through the after palate, dusty and rough like a well-used walking trail at the height of Summer. Earthy, musky notes float through before the finish reverts to lemon juice and chalk. It’s a curious narrative, moving as it does from such fullness to such angularity, yet I appreciate how each taste tells a story that covers such ground.
A pretty unconventional style in Australian terms, but those who enjoy texture, or who have already acquired a taste for Alsatian Riesling, needn’t hesitate. Cellar door only.