The Scholium Project the sylphs 2009

About three days ago I arrived in San Diego, a place I haven’t visited since 1997 when I was here on a student exchange. What a year. I had come to finish my science degree at UCSD, and I did indeed do that. But my fondest memories are of life outside school.

For the first couple of weeks back then, I wasn’t even 21 years old, so was legally unable to enter any of the bars that, as a fourth year university student, I had become rather too accustomed to frequenting in Australia. No matter; my birthday soon ticked around, the school year started, and my time here flew by in a haze of perfect weather, minimal study and a seemingly inexhaustible supply of great beaches.

The intervening years have brought many things, one of which is my friendship with Christopher Pratt, co-publisher of Full Pour and all-around awesome guy. A few years ago, Chris and his partner made San Diego home, and the city has beckoned ever since. Finally, in my year of wine, I’m here again.

Amongst the many Californian wines I’ve been keen to try, few are higher on the list than The Scholium Project’s various bottlings. Chris has written about these in some detail on Full Pour, and I encourage you to browse through the archives to familiarise yourself with what must surely be one of the more intriguing producers working in California at the moment. We’ve already tasted several over the past few days, and none have been less than interesting. This, though, stands out for its sheer perversity.

This is what might happen if you turn Chardonnay inside out. Everything about it seems designed to test one’s idea of what varietal Chardonnay ought to taste like, from its emphasis on flavours that ordinarily sit at the edges to its radical re-rendering of some clearly beautiful fruit. The nose shoves things like nutty aldehydes, salt spray, Mexican candy and your grandmother’s stash of sherry (thanks Chris for that image) right into the foreground; fruit becomes utterly secondary to aromas that are ordinarily used sparingly to add complexity and depth, and that might reasonably be considered faults if too prominent. But do conventional ideas of balance apply when a wine is so determinedly styled to challenge those conventions?

The palate reveals a core of fruit that seems radically distorted yet weirdly beautiful, like trying to see a peach through glass bricks. This styling strikes me as cubist in its reconceptualisation of expected flavours. This extends to palate structure too; weight is much lighter than expected and lacking the sort of flesh one might associate with Chardonnay from California. Flavours aren’t quite as sweet as the nose suggests, although no amount of fiddling can completely rob the fruit here of a certain lusciousness. Texture becomes rough through the back palate, and complexity of flavour is unmitigated from front to back.

In some ways, I’ve no idea what to make of this wine in quality terms. It’s full of intent, shows good fruit and is vastly provocative, stylistically. Does that make it a good wine? Do regular indicators of quality even apply? I’m not sure, but I love that it poses the question.

The Scholium Project
Price: $US75
Closure: Cork
Source: Gift

Louis Moreau Chablis Grand Cru Les Clos 2010

With so many producers in Australia ostensibly chasing Chablis-esque expressions of Chardonnay, it’s refreshing to go back to the source. Although a tight, linear wine, this is far from lacking in fruit and provides a nice lesson in what makes Chablis such a refreshing style.

The nose shows some free sulfur at first; as this blows off, sulfide characters and floral aromatics dominate, anchored by bassier notes of white peach. High and low, then, with a definite fleshiness on the aroma, promising a taut but generous palate. There’s a precision to the aroma that I particularly appreciate, each component dovetailing neatly as it gives way to the next. It’s cool, even slightly dispassionate, perhaps a wine for a particularly analytical mood.

The palate is linear and quite steely, with an initially dominant saline note that gives way to fruit, herbs and flowers. There’s a subtle thread of much riper fruit, almost raisin-like in character, that is unexpected. I like the weight and flesh this gives, but the flavour itself is one I question. A keen thrust of acid drives the wine fairly hard, with chalky texture descending on the after palate. This is all precisely put together, the flavours varied, structure fresh and texture just so.

Louis Moreau
Price: $NA
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Gift

Zarephath Riesling 2012

I don’t think there’s a more quietly spectacular vineyard site in Porongurup than Zarephath’s. As one travels north on Chester Pass Road, most producers sit to the left on Mount Barker Porongurup Road. Turn right, though, and the road slips from bitumen to dirt, trees slowly becoming more ancient and stressed, tiger snakes winding their way over land that bears little of the stamp of human ownership. The Zarephath vineyard, then, seems placed in some sort of paradise, its small blocks carving a luscious oasis in amongst red dirt, granite and gnarled tree trunks.

None of which, of course, means the wine is any good, but it provided a lovely setting for my first encounter with this producer and perhaps played some role in my purchase of this bottle from cellar door. I remember a distinctive lime sherbet note when I tasted it, a flavour sufficiently appealing to make me want to spend a bit more time with it.

On extended tasting, first impressions are validated, as this is a delicious Riesling style. The nose is very expressive, with florals, lime rind, a hint of toast and a general impression of good times. It’s slightly louche, and I like that its flavours are so eager to please that they tend to jostle with each other a bit. So not the most refined aroma, but with great freshness and vibrancy nonetheless.

The palate is similarly robust, with that firm lime sherbet flavour the dominant note. I suspect there’s some residual sugar in here, which builds some flesh into the mid-palate and works as a positive foil to bubbly acid and phenolics. Again, not super fine, but in its way this shows impeccable balance and, more than many more intellectual Rieslings, is simply delicious drinking. The winemaking — by Rob Diletti at Castle Rock — seems top notch and the wine generous to a fault without being in any way too broad or lacking in definition.

It seems hard to make a bad Riesling in Great Southern; this is a particularly thirst-quenching one.

Zarephath Wines
Price: $A25
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Retail

Pizzini Rubacuori Sangiovese 2005

Self-appointed benchmark wines perform an interesting function in our wine scene, especially when made from varieties still considered “alternate” in Australia. Unlike wines that sit atop the tree of our few truly indigenous wine styles, wines like the Rubacuori seem to inevitably prompt comparisons, both stylistic and pecuniary, with their Old World counterparts. However, I prefer to see these wines as arguments for local expressions of their varieties, ones that are, in this case, joyously Australian in their richness and generosity.

This opens with a lot of oak, but give it some time in the decanter and it rebalances most pleasingly. The aroma blossoms with a whole pantry full of notes – bitter almond, white flowers, sawdust, broom cupboards, dried fruits, even a bit of mint. Pretty evocative, then. It’s a changeable aroma profile that benefits from slow contemplation rather than hurried evaluation.

The palate is remarkable for its slap of intense fruit within a dense, medium bodied frame. The mid-palate simply lights up with pure, clean red fruit, then splinters into an array of notes as the wine drifts towards the back of the mouth. Here it settles in its fragmented beauty, intensifying as abundant tannins release seemingly unlimited reserves of fruit and texture. Length is most definitely a highlight. Flavours are sweet and savoury, texture alternately silky and velvet.

A truly delicious, fine wine.

Pizzini
Price: $A110
Closure: Diam
Source: Gift

Lake’s Folly Cabernet 1992

I was lucky enough to depart from my time at Lake’s Folly with a wonderful selection of older wines of the estate. This is my first dip into that stash, and what an excellent start to the exploration.

At first, this gives a shockingly young impression; primary fruit ringing clearly, pure red berries at the core of a seductive aroma profile that has become quite elaborate with bottle age. Turned earth, second hand books, mushroom, spice. It’s seamless and savoury and changeable with air, shifting its emphasis this way and that, never becoming a comprehensively old wine to smell, though its tertiary life looms heavily.

In the mouth, bright with purple flowers, red fruits and acid, light to medium bodied, savouriness creeping in from all sides. Although this remains structured, it has the mellowness of an older red wine, with a silky smooth mouthfeel and an easy flow down the line. Sweet tannins are still abundant and fine, blanketing the after palate and adding persistence to the wine’s line. As old wines will sometimes do, this started to slowly fall apart after a couple of hours, acid poking out a bit more, fruit weight diminishing.

Wines like this are why I don’t score.

Lake’s Folly
Price: $NA
Closure: Cork
Source: Gift

Cambridge Road Martinborough Pinot Noir 2009

When I was in Central Otago recently, I was one of two Australians in the vintage crew, Jimi Lienert being the other. Jimi hails from the Barossa, where his family has a beautiful vineyard. Inevitably we got to tasting a bit while in New Zealand, and again when I passed through the Barossa Valley the other day. Despite growing up surrounded by, and helping to make, traditional Barossan styles, Jimi has a penchant for lighter, elegant wines. After vintage, he toured New Zealand and tasted as widely as possible; this is a bottle he found along the way that he shared with me.

I’m very glad he did, because it’s excellent. Something I’ve often enjoyed about Martinborough Pinots versus those from Central Otago is their shift in balance away from fullness of fruit towards fragrance, savouriness and structure. This is a good example of the style; aromatically it’s spiced and fresh, with berry-cherry compote, just a touch of stalk character (easily carried) and vanilla oak. Although the fruit is present and lush, it doesn’t push its way past the other elements, making this far from a fruit bomb style. With air, further complexities of curry leaf and musk, all aromatic and floral.

In the mouth, structure, depth of flavour, layers and length. There’s something quiet about this wine, though, like a really smart person who just makes enough of a contribution to the conversation. Despite that, its contributions have a tremendous impact, so this wine, although measured, makes itself known. Partly this is due to its acid structure, which drives flavour down the line quite firmly and gives it good length. Partly, it’s due to a complex flavour profile that makes one lean in to look more closely. It’s both sweet and savoury, umami-filled and delicious.

A whole lot of sophisticated, delicious Pinot.

Cambridge Road
Price: $NZ55
Closure: Cork
Source: Gift

Woodlands Margaret 2011

A blend of 70% Cabernet Sauvignon, 16% Merlot and 14% Malbec.

This, like the 2011 Cullen Kevin John I wrote about yesterday, changed a lot over the course of my time with it. Unlike the Chardonnay, however, its evolution was entirely positive.

At first, I thought I might have wasted the $45 this cost me, as the wine I poured bore little resemblance to the deliciousness I had tasted at cellar door and on which basis I made my purchase. Masses of bright, sweet fruit — varietal enough but completely overwhelming — shot off in one direction while oak and structure scurried away separately, like friends who have just fallen out over who might be the prettiest of all. Hanging over the whole, like a toxic cloud, that unpleasant, faintly doughy malolactic fermentation smell, hammering one last nail into the coffin of a wine I was ready to write off as an unfortunate product of its warm vintage.

But what a dramatic difference on day two. After a bit of time and air, savouriness returns to this wine with a smack, and with it vastly improved integration of its elements. No doughy smells, either; indeed, this is squeaky clean. With a diminution of fruit volume, the wine’s elegance steps forward, a dusty note overlaying fresh mulberry fruit and snapped twig on the nose, brown spices and oak making a contribution, perhaps not quite as connected as they might be with more time, but nonetheless still very much part of the wine. The palate is medium bodied and, despite generous fruit, elegant, with abundant, fine tannins setting over the after palate and firm acid throughout. I was dissatisfied with the 2007 vintage due to its, for my taste, perversely light weight; the 2011 seems a more balanced wine in this regard.

I do feel this has been released very early and, hopefully, with a bit more time in bottle it will present better on opening. As it is now, be sure to give it plenty of air before any serious contemplation.

Woodlands
Price: $A45
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Retail

Cullen Kevin John Chardonnay 2011

Ideally, a wine will grow in the glass, evolving through an evening as it reveals new facets of itself. I liken it to a conversation that might meander over time, becoming deeper and richer as it goes. What’s not so pleasant is the ranconteur who seems fascinating at first, so full of delights, yet gradually reveals himself a bore, or otherwise disappointingly imperfect.

I tasted this wine at cellar door recently, then stayed with a glass over lunch and watched it develop. It’s not a bad wine by any means, but over the course of an hour or so, it became less fine, showing a broadness of fruit that went against a set of aromas suggestive of something altogether more taut.

The aroma profile shows a smokey influence, with hints of sulfide complexity and bright fruit. There’s also a background nuttiness. It’s not overly expressive but is complex enough to draw one in.

In the mouth, powerful and initially linear; flavours of citrus flesh, white stonefruit and oatmeal, with a decent amount of oak input. The mid-palate is quite fleshy and is redeemed somewhat by an after palate that is satisfyingly chalky. The issue is one of balance and, to be fair, one of taste too. The fruit’s countenance is generous and there’s a lot of it, such that it constantly threatens to overwhelm the wine’s structure and winemaking artifice. Temperature has a great effect here, the wine seeming less shapely as it warms.

While tasting recently in Margaret River, I saw a few 2011 whites that were quite broad, perhaps reflecting what was a warm growing season. This, then, shows admirable transparency to vintage, and I wouldn’t be surprised if fans of fuller Chardonnay styles will find much to enjoy here. In the end, though, I wasn’t entirely convinced.

Cullen
Price: $A25 per glass (wine list)
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Retail

Frankland Estate Poison Hill Vineyard Riesling 2012

Taste through a region and its strengths become abundantly clear. Although many producers’ portfolios in Australia can lack focus and muddy the waters on paper, some variety and region combinations jump out with a bit of exploration. After a few days in Great Southern, it’s blindingly obvious to me that Riesling finds a natural home here, and I’m falling in love with the regional, and sub-regional, expressions of this variety. It’s no exaggeration to suggest I’m rediscovering the deliciousness of Riesling through these pristine, powdery, lime-infused wines.

Frankland Estate’s single vineyard Riesling portfolio is a nice crash course in Frankland River Riesling, itself subtly different from other sub-regional expressions such as that of Porongurup. I tasted all three 2012 releases at cellar door and took this one home for further examination. Grown on a strikingly chalky soil, this wine struck me as the most generous and fleshy, although this in the context of a collection of fairly austere wines.

The nose is quite expressive, though still with a bit of free sulfur, with pungent dried lime, sea spray, herbs and lemon juice notes. There’s a suggestion of something more tropical, and this edge gives the wine a fuller aroma profile than its siblings, but this thicker influence sits very much on the sidelines, more a faint imprint than something truly legible.

One expects a good dose of acid in these wines and I’m not disappointed here, though more important than quantity is character. The acid here isn’t ultra-fine; rather, it bubbles along close to the surface, pushing intense lime and herb flavours along the tongue briskly. There are savoury edges to the flavour profile, and I like the touch of mid-palate flesh that emerges before disappearing again in a cloud of torn herbs and firm texture, the latter less chalky and drying than in the other two wines.

More than anything, this is a delicious wine that, as I have discovered while tasting, pairs easily with food both savoury (green curry) and sweet (custard). I’ll have a few of these, thanks.

Frankland Estate
Price: $A27
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Moss Wood Semillon 1999

If Semillon had fashion on its side, I wonder how many more interesting wine styles we might see? Moss Wood seems to stubbornly stand by its terminally daggy Margaret River Semillon and, on the basis of this wine, I’m grateful it does.

I’ve not previously had a Moss Wood Semillon quite this old, so was very interested to see how a truly evolved examples tastes. The aroma shows notes that evidently derive from time in bottle, but the trick here is these notes show no coarseness whatsoever; instead, remnant primary notes of lemon and grass move meltingly into butter and honey, the latter more suggestions than full-throttle renditions of these broad aromas. It’s still vibrant at its core, but the overall impression is soft and elegant, like soft fabric with a subtle, tasteful sheen.

The palate has good presence and body right down its line. There’s a bit of primary sharpness both in terms of flavour and structure, but mostly this wine’s flavours are soft and delicate, rich in their way but not at all cloying. Mouthfeel slips this way and that, a slight waxiness lubricating movement over the tongue. This is the pleasure of aged white wine: sharp meets mellow, muscle becomes flesh. Quite seamless from entry through to finish, this moves with the confidence of someone only becomes more attractive with age (and who knows it).

Thank you to Mark Gifford of Blue Poles Vineyard for donating this to the party.

Moss Wood
Price: $NA
Closure: Cork
Source: Gift