Collector Marked Tree Red 2008

I blinked and, in addition to putting on a few kilos, missed the last couple of vintages of this wine. Which is a shame, as I thought the 2005 rather good.

This looks a lot darker and more serious than the earlier wine, an impression borne out by the nose. This is dense, full of squishy dark plums, laced with black pepper and spice. There’s a sappy edge too that contributes sophistication and a bit of funkiness to the aroma profile. I especially like the spiciness of the aroma – it tends towards dark, roasted spice and nuts rather than a lighter, more floral character one sees in some other cooler climate Shirazes. To level one criticism, the whole is a bit blunt, taking a caveman approach to seduction. It may be that time will teach it more subtly persuasive ways.

The palate remains dense and dark within a medium bodied frame. The entry is precise and cool, hitting the tongue with a satisfying sense of controlled movement. There’s no great widening on the middle palate, as acid and tannin combine to keep things on the straight and narrow. I find I like this type of wine more and more; there is a tantalising aesthetic tension when hedonism is combined with tautly expressed structure and shape. The middle and after palates pull their punches a bit, never delivering the sort of intensity demanded by the other elements. The flavour profile turns towards a sappy, savoury, oaky expression as the wine moves towards its reasonable finish.

My kind of wine stylistically; I’m just left wanting a bit more oomph from the fruit. I doubt, however, there’ll be any left in the bottle tonight.

Collector
Price: $A26
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Retail

Yelland & Papps Old Vine Grenache 2007

There’s a lot of waffle about wine, to which I’m sure I contribute my fair share. So to read the back label of Yelland & Papps wines is a breath of fresh air: “[Yelland & Papps]’s sole aim is to enjoy all aspects of the process and sharing this with others.” Hard to argue with that.

The nose was initially sweet-fruited, slightly one-dimensional, definitely generous. It’s gained some complexity through the evening, with malty oak and a savoury, stemmy edge that runs alongside the main event: luscious, jammy Grenache fruit. It’s not a facile wine, yet it’s not intellectual either; the priority here is sensual enjoyment, which I respect absolutely as a stylistic goal. The fruit is quite dark in character, like a mixed berry conserve slathered over a fresh scone. 
The palate is very much more of the same, with a nice rush of fruit quite early that accelerates through the middle and after palates. There’s no stopping the fruit, except perhaps a personal aversion to fruit-driven, relatively sweet flavour profiles. Certainly, if one’s bent were strictly towards Bordeaux, this might seem hopelessly naive as a wine style. Yet within its stylistic bracket, this wine delivers a nice hit of clean, varietal fruit without pretense. It’s not flabby either, acid in particular propping up flavours and providing well-defined shape to the palate. The finish is quite long and doesn’t thin out until it’s almost out of steam; the fruit here really does have good thrust and penetration along the entire line.
Perhaps a matter of taste more than many other wines, this is a solid example of fruity, exuberant Barossa Grenache that fans of the genre needn’t hesitate purchasing. Worked rather well indeed with spicy Thai food.

Yelland & Papps
Price: $A30
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Balthazar Shiraz 2005

2005Shiraz1.jpg

There are few things in art, and indeed life, more tantalising than a mistaken first impression.
The bottle in front of me is festooned with gold stickers (much more so than in the accompanying photograph); so much bling threatens to overwhelm a striking label design. To certain weary enthusiasts (that’s me), it might also signal an unsubtle, “show” style.  So its true character, when revealed, comes as a surprise. Indeed, what is remarkable about this wine is its powerful intimacy. It draws you in quietly, peeling itself back one translucent layer at a time, until you’re lost in its grasp.
I was advised by this wine’s mother to give it a good hour and a half of air before attempting serious evaluation. In fact, I left it overnight to breathe, and feel on day two its expression is close to complete. At first, a nose that is all mocha oak and deep, ripe plums. It’s complex yet utterly restrained from flowing as it ought. A couple of hours later, the aroma profile is wider and more expressive, though still deeply coiled and suggestive of untold generosity. Finally, a day on, there’s some freedom, structured yet moving without restraint, a multi-coloured kimono of aroma. Black fruit, complex spice, hot sun on brambles, some vanilla. It’s all quality, with good integration and poise, yet it’s subdued and subtle, in a positive sense. There’s no yelling, just sweet harmony and rhythm.
The palate is equally seductive, and it’s difficult to tease each element apart.  Flavours are in line with the nose, though a successful balance between sweet and savoury fruit is more evident here. There’s a voluptuous slipperiness to the mouthfeel that is also notable. On entry, inky fruit and coffee grounds create a dark flavour profile that carries through to the middle palate. Here, it lightens a little, red fruit and plums emerging alongside orange juice acidity and brown spice. There’s a lot going on. The after palate is positively fruit driven, and very clean in presentation. It sustains the momentum of the front palate through to a musky, powerfully soft finish of ultra-ripe tannins and sweet fruit.
What a lovely wine. It’s striking and intense and all of those good things, yet somehow manages to communicate with understatement. A most intriguing, satisfying wine.

Balthazar of the Barossa
Price: $A50
Closure: Procork

Balnaves Shiraz 2006

Shiraz plays second fiddle to Cabernet Sauvignon in the Coonawarra, and one might suggest this is a good thing, considering the classic status of Cabernet from this region. Indeed, I’ve sometimes wondered at the local tendency to plant a fruit salad of grape varieties with little apparent regard for established regional styles. Two points, then. Firstly, if it tastes good, I want to drink it regardless of region or variety. Secondly, and more specifically, Shiraz has a lineage of some magnificence in the Coonawarra. The Wynns Michael Hermitages from the 50s are an obvious card to play in this regard, and on more personal terms I’ve had many lovely Coonawarra Shiraz wines over the years, including a remarkably ephemeral Redman Claret from 1976, consumed about 3 years ago. So yes, I’ve a soft spot for Shiraz from this region, and it’s with some anticipation that I taste this reasonably priced Balnaves from 2006.

Despite 15% abv (per the back label) and an impressive sense of scale in its flavour profile, this wine manages to retain a degree of elegance on both the nose and palate. Certainly, this isn’t due to restraint in oak treatment or a lack of ripeness. The nose shows lashing of blackberry brambles, coffee grounds and a certain (attractive) twiggy aroma. It’s dense and quite heady, hints of spice adding complexity and sophistication. There’s a hot edge to the aroma, which isn’t overly distracting to me. 
The palate follows through with a good dose of blackberry and spice, framed by oak that appears less dominant than on the nose. Indeed, the oak is remarkably well integrated into the flavour profile, adding a cedary, coffeed frame to generous fruit that, after a little tussle, grabs centre stage. The entry is subtle and creeps up slowly, showing mostly oak flavour underneath a rising surge of fruit that finds its full expression on the middle palate. Though the flavour profile suggests rich, ripe berries, this wine stops short of full-on hedonism, and seems between medium and full bodied to me. I think this is a good thing; as the body is contained, a nice tension develops between flavour and structure. There’s plenty of acid and tannin to keep things lively in the mouth; all in balance and well integrated. The after palate is quite light, with transparent fruit flavours and an astringently sappy, twiggy note. The finish is quite satisfying, if a tad hot.
Given its dimensions in terms of flavour and alcohol, this is refined and elegant. Most of all, though, it has that drinkability “X factor” that is rarer than it should be. Go Coonawarra Shiraz!

Balnaves of Coonawarra
Price: $A24
Closure: Stelvin

Yelland & Papps Delight Grenache Rosé 2009

Sometimes, I wonder why I ever moved to Brisbane. Sure, it’s beautiful today, and I’m sure it will be perfect tomorrow, but I’m a Canberra boy at heart. I like cold, mercilessly windy Winters and hot, dry Summers, not least because they tend to be framed by idyllic Springs and Autumns. Brisbane, on the other hand, goes from warm to ridiculous, with days (like today) that feel hot well in excess of the measured temperature. Natives say it’s the humidity, and assure me I’ll get used to it, but like many acquired tastes I’m not sure whether it’s worth the effort.

In any case, I needed some refreshment this afternoon and reached for this Grenache-based rosé from Yelland & Papps, a small producer in the Barossa Valley. A lurid strawberry colour, not overly dense but certainly pretty in its neon way. A party colour. The nose is exuberant, with boiled lollies and a counterpoint of savoury, medicinal notes. Simple, fun and certainly generous. It might present too much confectionary for those who prefer a more savoury rosé style; it’s all about context I guess. 
The palate is quite full, with a round mouthfeel and surprisingly intense flavour. The entry is soft and a little underwhelming. The middle palate, by contrast, is full of bright flavours that echo the sweet/savoury profile of the aroma. Things get even more interesting through the after palate, where the acidity contributes a strong, sour thread that accentuates the savoury aspects of the flavour profile. There seems to be a bit of heat on the finish (13% abv). 
An honest, flavoursome wine that would suit casual Summer quaffing for those not averse to the sweeter (and more alcoholic) side of Grenache.

Yelland & Papps
Price: $A17
Closure: Stelvin

Lake's Folly Chardonnay 2008

The first Lake’s Folly Chardonnay under screwcap. 

Characteristically Folly on the nose, with complexity aligned to a sense of balance and subtlety. It seems lighter and less opulent than the 2007, which was quite a powerhouse in relative terms. This, on the other hand, is veiled and delicate, with a similar aroma profile expressing itself on different terms. It also smells very young, with some overly bright edges that should fall back into the wine with a few more months in bottle. 
The palate confirms a svelte silhouette; a taut balancing act between youthful structure and a flavour profile that aches to break free of its acidic confines. A sophisticated entry, tingling with fine acidity and a thread of classy minerality. Moderately intense peach, lychee and citrus fruit begins to emerge towards the middle palate, along with some subtle cream and caramel inputs. The mouthfeel follows a notable line, beginning with a textured burst of acid then transforming seamlessly to a glossy platform for the flavour components. It’s fascinating. The after palate shows greater oak influence and a curiously leafy flavour, before the finish takes one on a peachy keen ride to deep satisfaction.
It’s young and probably needs some time to show at its best, but I do love it. A light, bright expression of the Lake’s Folly vineyard.

Lake’s Folly
Price: $A55
Closure: Stelvin

Morandé Reserva Chardonnay 2006

Sometimes, a string of busy days leaves you with few reserves towards the end of the week. I’m in that space right now, and wasn’t sure what to open tonight. There’s lamb on the stove, but somehow I don’t feel like the robust Shiraz that, in most cases, would be an obvious choice. No, tonight I need some space, and am taking a chance on this Chilean Chardonnay. Another Southern Cross Wines import. 

There’s no lamer descriptor than “grapey” (ok, “smooth” comes close), but sometimes you just need to call it how it is. And this smells instantly, unashamedly like fresh grape juice. That’s not all there is, but the point is it’s fresh and sunny in ways one might ordinarily associate with Australian wine. There are certainly complexities to the aroma profile; a hint of wheat, a little nougat oak, and some more tropical fruit like papaya. But this wine’s value seems to lie in the straightforward expression of its attractive fruit. So far so good.
The palate is unexpectedly acidic; in fact, it seems a little unbalanced to me and, as a result, quite nervy. On the plus side, it has good impact on entry, with a sizzling mouthfeel and bright, clean fruit. The line widens progressively until it reaches a mid-palate of quite gushy fruit, underlined by that chalky acidity. There’s no shortage of flavour, including some oak and winemaking influence that is caramel-like in nature. The flavour profile itself is straightforward and attractive, tending to leanness in terms of its character. A lightfooted after palate leads to more reverberant flavour through the finish. The finish itself is a highlight, and goes on for much longer than it has any right to. 
A lighter style, then. Structurally, I’m not convinced that it hangs together, due mostly to the character and volume of the acidity. The clean fruit flavours, though, keep me coming back. A good Summer white, and keenly priced.

Morandé
Price: $A20
Closure: Cork

Ishtar Grenache Shiraz Mourvèdre 2006

I don’t envy wine show judges. Quite apart from the difficulty of appearing dignified with purple teeth, there’s the challenge of judging a wine based on a quick tasting, in a lineup of fourty, perhaps even fifty like wines, after what may have been several flights earlier in the day. Even if I had the tasting perspective, I’d no doubt make a hash of the process, simply because I feel terribly disappointed when I derive no enjoyment from wine, and therefore tend to give most wines a chance to show a positive side.

And that can take time, sometimes days. Or, in the case of this wine, about half an hour. Still, I was ready to write it off at first. My initial sip was as follows: bright red, aggressively confected aroma preceding a sweet, medium bodied palate of considerable simplicity. Next!
But oh, how it’s evolved in the glass. After a little time and air, the nose is quite transformed. While it remains within an easy drinking idiom, there’s plenty of interest to the aroma profile, with meaty Mourvèdre and spicy Shiraz framing fruit that, though confectionary in nature, is well balanced against the savoury elements, and has evolved both sour and sweet faces. 
Similarly, the palate is a long way from its initial presentation and shows surprising sophistication in terms of its movement through the mouth. It’s medium bodied at most, with subtle tannins and enough acidity to stay fresh. Well-judged for frictionless consumption, then; this extends to intensity and density of flavour, neither of which call too much attention to themselves. In fact, it threatens to become a bit weedy, but is saved somewhat by a nice surge of sweet fruit as the middle palate transitions to the after palate. A meaty savouriness leads into the finish, which shows cough-syrup flavours and goes on for a decent amount of time.
There’s cheeky intent behind this wine, or at least a reluctance to forego interest for drinkability. Smart quaffing.

Balthazar of the Barossa
Price: $A19.50
Closure: Stelvin

Simply Sunshine White 2009

From my perspective, this is a curio: an inexpensive white wine made for the German market. I was sent samples by the apparently indefatigable Leigh Gilligan, whose various ventures enjoy strong distribution, and seem to resonate strongly, in Germany. The interest for me, apart from the wine itself, is the marketing approach, which draws explicitly on Australia’s reputation for “sunshine in a bottle” wine styles. While this approach is now hotly contested in the local industry, there’s no doubt Australian wine is known in export markets largely for this type of wine, so if nothing else I’m eager to taste wines with a claim to representing the style and, hence, a certain face of the industry.

The interest in terms of what’s in the bottle relates to a particular concept of wine at this price point, something Chris recently touched on. He described a certain kind of wine as “fermented grape juice beverage product;” drinks that are technically wine but stylistically about as far as you can get from the generally accepted definition. Of course, I’m applying a massive, snobby value judgement to this description, even though I have no desire or ability to argue with the enjoyment many gain from imbibing [yellow tail]. Then again, what I do have is a desire for authenticity at all price points, and I believe well-priced wine does not need to taste like an industrial, wine-flavoured beverage.
I’m vindicated in this belief by this wine, at least. It’s not a secret Grange by any means, but it looks, smells and taste like real wine. It’s easygoing, with bubblegum florals, a bit of sharp citrus and sweeter, rounder fruit that oddly reminds me of Lipton’s peach iced tea.  There are no varieties listed on the bottle, and from the aroma profile I thought there was some Rhone action in there, but no, it’s mostly Chardonnay with a splash of Sauvignon Blanc and Chenin Blanc. The palate is soft and cuddly. More peach tea, a hint of crisper florals and, well, not a lot else. So complexity isn’t a high point, nor is it the aim I should imagine. Rather, this wine delivers generosity, a round mouthfeel of satisfying viscosity and perhaps just a hint of residual sugar to help it go down. It’s a bit low in acid, which translates to a somewhat clumsy progression through the mouth, if not outright flab. But it’s hard to argue with the tasty flavour profile here. 
Great barbeque wine. Nicely done.

Simply Sunshine
Price: €5.45
Closure: Stelvin

Clonakilla Riesling 2009

I tremble whenever a Clonakilla newsetter arrives, as much at the anticipation of its new releases as their unfortunate effect on my wallet. Yes, I’m somewhat of a junkie. I have especially enjoyed the Riesling over many vintages and consider Canberra Riesling in general one of our more interesting regional expressions of this variety. 

To this fresh one, then, the nose seems quite typical at first, with floral, bath salt-like aromas, the strange of impression of chalk dust and very little of the full-throttle citrus juice that can characterise this variety from some other Australian regions. It’s actually quite piercing; almost aggressive, more so than I recall of previous vintages. The exhuberance of youth, perhaps, or something more essential? I’m not sure. Certainly, it’s settling a little in the glass and becoming less insistent, though also a tad indistinct too.
The palate is surprising because there’s a big whack of pineapple juice on the middle palate that isn’t at all signalled on the nose. But I’m getting ahead of myself. A clean entry, slippery and pleasing. Quickly, that intense sharpness from the nose (sulphur? slate? minerality?) asserts alongside surprisingly full tropical fruit and leaner citrus flowers. There’s good thrust through the after palate, with really delicious fruit flavours framed by savouriness and powdery texture. Indeed, texture is a highlight with this wine, roughing up the tongue with fine yet prominent acidity. A lovely, citrussy finish of good length.
This strikes me as somewhat atypical, at least according to my dodgy palate memory. It’s flavoursome, textural and lively; it’s also a bit disjointed, strident and, ultimately, poses more questions than it answers. I have a few of these in the cellar and will open another bottle in, say, a year’s time.

Clonakilla
Price: $A25
Closure: Stelvin