Clonakilla Ballinderry 2004

There are some nice bottles of wine scattered about my house. Not nice in the sense of outrageously expensive, but nice in the sense that I hesitate, for whatever reason, to drink them. On the whole, I enjoy living by myself, but choosing wine to drink is a definite downside. There are no excuses, no-one else to share the burden of having opened the last bottle of this, or an old bottle of that. I was bemoaning my reluctance to drink a lot of the wine I have at home to a good friend the other day, and he said “Just open them.” So tonight, I have.

It’s not an unaffordable wine, this one. I think it was about $35. The reason why it’s an important wine to me is that I bought it with Chris and his partner Dan at Clonakilla’s cellar door after what I presume (because I don’t think we’ve ever visited Clonakilla without this happening) was a wonderful conversation and barrel sampling session with Tim Kirk. Such occasions happen so infrequently when friends live at opposite ends of the earth, and this wine, sitting on my cheap IKEA wine rack, has served as a reminder of Summer weather, a drive from Sydney to Canberra, precious conversation and the feeling of being amongst your own kind. No wonder I’ve not found a worthy enough occasion to open it.

Looking back over my notes, I’m reminded of a slight hesitation over this wine because, at the time, its aroma was almost entirely locked down and its structure formidable. Perhaps it’s an overrated pastime, allowing a wine time to reveal itself. There’s something masochistic about being made to wait for an anticipated pleasure that may never, in fact, happen. And yet this wine’s gradual maturation into complete, liquid elegance communicates intense reward and a sense of happy shock, the same shock one gets when an old acquaintance turns up after many years’ absence, suddenly handsome and magnetic in a way that only makes sense in retrospect. This wine’s features are just beginning to work their magic now. The nose remains quiet, now more sotto voce than mute, too dignified to lunge for the dark berry notes and pencil shavings that seep out from nowhere and fill in the bottom layer of the aroma profile. A whisper of aged leather sits in the middle, gradually building what should be, with even more time, a complete profile of notes.

The palate is getting ready for this completion; it has paved the way by paring back its structure, adding the most striking thickness of mouthfeel and transforming from a somewhat raw beast into something altogether more civilised. The range of notes is textbook: red and black berries, cigar box, tobacco, a hint of gravel. This is seriously good Cabernet in medium bodied, elegant mode. Why aren’t there more Cabernets from Canberra? This seems ideal to me, effortless and flavoursome.

Tell me again, why did I ever hesitate to open this?

Clonakilla
Price: $A35
Closure: Cork
Source: Retail

Pig in the House Shiraz 2011

When I last reviewed this wine (2008 vintage), I noted the producer was certified organic. Things have moved on to the next plane of cosmic vineyard management, as Pig in the House is now a certified biodynamic winery. No mean feat, mind you – I appreciate the rigour that goes into running an operation in this manner.

It’s what’s in the bottle that counts, though, and I’m pleased to say that this strikes me as a better wine than the 2008, more subtle and complex, but retaining the appealing freshness of the earlier wine. The aroma shows very crunchy red fruits, snapped succulent, copious black pepper and other signs of cooler climate Shiraz. It’s quite lean and may strike some drinkers as lacking in generosity, lacking in ripeness, even. For me, its freshness outweighs any sense of thinness, and makes it immediately appealing as a sort of bistro style.

The palate shows decent intensity and a good dose of fresh acid. It’s not the most articulate wine in the mouth, delivering its flavour in a rather haphazard way. No matter — there’s plenty of it to go around, and the fact that it zips by a bit too quickly just means another sip is in order; easy to do with a wine this fresh-tasting. Plenty of dark fruits and spice, some lightly powdery tannins overlaying the finish. Again, some may consider its flavour profile indicative of marginal fruit ripeness. The fruit flavour edges on the obvious and confected at times, but in the context of the style it’s forgivable.

Mixed experience here, but I rather like its edgy vibe.

Pig in the House
Price: $A22
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Chapel Hill Cabernet Sauvignon 2010

I’m loving the 2010 McLaren Vale reds that have passed through the tasting room of late. Tonight I have a Cabernet in front of me from noted producer Chapel Hill.

Cabernet is an interesting beast, and I feel the degree to which it changes by region is underplayed compared to, say, Shiraz. This varietal has a range of expressions in Australia, and this wine is a case in point. Stylistically, it is a long way from something like Coonawarra Cabernet. It lacks the edge, the muscularity and the intense dusty leaf that are beloved by many Cabernet enthusiasts but which may, indeed, be offputting to others. Here, the McLaren Vale has turned out a soft, almost cuddly version of Cabernet that owes as much to its region as its variety.

The aroma is rich and expressive, showing a good deal of dark berry fruit, hints of crushed leaf and lashings of oak. It is well integrated and retains just enough of Cabernet’s stand-offishness to set itself apart from the region’s other red varietals. As it gains air and time, oak steps forward and contributes even more vanilla and custard to the aroma. The palate shows good density right down the line, with nary a dip at any stage. In many ways, this is a straightforward, honest wine, putting what it has out there for our enjoyment, not playing games nor hiding its character. Its structure is a little raw at this stage, tannins in particular feeling quite astringent and aggressive. There’s plenty of fruit, though, to keep things drinkable, and some overtones of red berry flash in and out of a primarily dark flavour profile. As with the aroma, oak is a significant influence in the mouth. The finish is notable for its length and elegance.

Nice wine.

Chapel Hill
Price: $A30
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Clayfield Grampians Shiraz 2010

I was extremely impressed with Clayfield’s Ton Up Shiraz and wasn’t sure how this wine, the producer’s flagship, might propose to better it. And, for some tastes, this may be the less desirable wine. Certainly, it takes a denser, more concentrated view of Grampians Shiraz, trading the Ton Up’s surprisingly lithe palate weight for a brawnier, more forceful line. However, for my tastes this is ultimately the better wine, a touch more complete in flavour and perfect in form.

The nose is dark and mysterious, showing a definite family resemblance to the Ton Up (this wine is 39% estate Shiraz, so a similarity of aroma profile is not surprising). There’s deep plum fruit and mixed berries alongside woody spice and cedar twang. Totally regional and possessing a calm perfection that speaks of balance and harmony between each element. There’s a touch more light and shade here, more red fruit sitting alongside the dark, that marks it as a wine of subtlety as well as impact.

The palate brings a view of texture that is quite seductive. Some wines are felt as much as tasted and, in my view, texture is too often pushed behind flavour in terms of its sensory pleasure. This is a wine to reverse the trend; its tannins are plush and velvety, its acid swallowed up by dense fruit without losing its ability to support the line. This just feels so bloody good in the mouth. Flavours are, needless to say, correct and balanced. There’s a rawness to the flavours that is quite expected, given this wine isn’t yet released. More to the point, this is a wine to taste at all stages of its life: on release, through its discovery of aged character, in mellow senility. I suspect it will have something to give at each point.

Whereas the Ton Up is beautiful, this is magnificent. Up there with the best of the region.

Clayfield Wines
Price: $A75
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Yelland & Papps Devote Greenock Shiraz 2010

One of the things I’ve always enjoyed about Yelland & Papps wines is their lack of pretention; these are wines made for drinking, at all levels of the range. On the downside, they have sometimes shown a lack of intensity and impact that, for me, has held them back from being fully satisfying. This wine, and the accompanying Grenache, seem just a bit more structured and flavoursome than some of their predecessors; for me, they are are some of the best wines I’ve tasted from this producer.

All the benefits of a luscious, easy drinking Barossa red are here. The aroma is expressive and dark, showing a mix of plum and fruit cake plus a dash of enthusiastic oak. It’s not yet entirely integrated, nor would I expect it to be, but the flavours are classic and coherent. I like that the fruit appears to be ripe but not overly so; in fact, it seems particularly well judged in this regard. It’s not going to convert anyone to the style but will be very pleasing to fans of this region’s Shiraz.

The palate shows fresh acid and a thickness of flavour appropriate to the style. As with the nose, the flavours are ripe and full without tipping over into porty, overripe territory. The middle palate is especially attractive, its abundant fruit flowing easily over the tongue, given just enough shape by the wine’s structure. The after palate shows some young oak that should calm with time. You could probably age this for a while, but I can’t see why one would bother beyond a couple of years. It tastes so good now.

Spot on.

Yelland & Papps
Price: $A32
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Gilligan Shiraz Grenache Mourvèdre 2010

It’s sometimes said that first impressions are the truest, and I think that is often the case in wine as in life. But wine can be a funny thing, moving around under your nose, proving you right and wrong in equal measure. It’s one of the fun things about the drink, that it can be hard to pin down, and often those wines that defy you are the most alluring.

I note these thoughts because this wine, clothed in typically handsome Gilligan packaging, showed an initial face that didn’t have me swooning. The most striking aspect of the aroma profile was a stinky sulfur reductiveness, and the palate seemed dominated by an acid line that was both unbalanced and disjointed.

An hour in glass has seen a fascinating transformation, though. The aroma has lost its feral edge, though not so much as to deny the funky presence of Mourvèdre. It is angular and in two halves, bright red fruit colliding with darker, slightly vegetal notes that are as unsettling as the red fruits are cuddly. This is not an easy wine, but I will never begrudge a wine that asks the drinker to meet it half way. I keep smelling it, never quite capturing all its components in a way that makes easy sense.

While this is a brisk, bright style in terms of structure, the initially overwhelming acid has definitely folded back into the rest of the wine. There is a lovely texture that runs the length of this, acid and tannin weaving around one another in a lively dance. Above floats the sort of slightly challenging flavour profile suggested by the aroma. It is simultaneously dark, fruity, angular and oak-influenced, not pandering but at the same time showing a crisp deliciousness that encourages further tastes. The finish is particularly it notable for its harmonious mix of dried fruits and chocolate.

This certainly isn’t the sort of slutty blend some drinkers might expect, but it’s a compelling wine and one that is worth trying, especially at the price. It will benefit from a good deal of air this early in its life, and perhaps some bottle age if you have the patience. I retasted this two days after opening and it was even more cohesive, darkening a touch in flavour profile and thickening in texture.

Gilligan Wines
Price: $A25
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Yelland & Papps Devote Old Vine Grenache 2010

This grapes for this wine are sourced from a site near Greenock that bears vines planted in the 1960s. As I taste this, I am imagining what the vineyard was like as it was being planted those 50 or so years ago; who was doing the planting, what they were wearing (essential detail), and the thought that what I’m doing right now — blogging about a wine they, in a sense, gave birth to — must have been unimaginable.

Whoever dreamed of great things for the vineyard would surely be pleased by how sympathetically its grapes have been treated here. This is a surprising wine in many respects, although I’ve long thought Yelland & Papps do Grenache especially well, so that this wine is a refined, savoury, delicate example of the varietal should not come as such a shock. But given its tendency to blow out into excess, I’m still grateful this wine has such attractive dimensions.

The nose is refreshingly savoury, even as it expresses some luscious dark berry fruit. There’s a depth and sense of layering to the aroma that encourages repeated sniffs – first some berry, then turned earth, then pointed oak. It’s neither ingratiatingly expressive nor muted; rather, the aroma expresses steadily and with confidence. The palate seems underdone at first. I thought intensity was mismatched to its other elements, but a few sips sees my sense of this wine readjusting to its dimensions. It’s actually really well proportioned, and the palate unfolds in a precise series of steps. Entry is relatively high toned, showing some florals alongside red fruit. The middle palate becomes more expansive, though never sloppy, thanks in part to a firm structure that keeps the wine focused as it moves through to an oak-driven after palate. The finish becomes quite pretty and it’s here that the wine comes together in a final flourish of notes, high to low, singing beautifully.

This is elegant and controlled, and its 14% ABV remains contained within the wine’s other elements. Excellent, adult Grenache.

Yelland & Papps
Price: $A32
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Clayfield Ton Up Moyston Shiraz 2010

This smells unbelievably good.

First, some background. Those of you who have visited Clayfield’s cellar door know how low key the whole affair is. The tasting bench and winery are one, and the adjacent vineyard, far from being a feature of the property, is almost hidden away. Simon Clayfield is a friendly, chatty fellow too, quite self-effacing, though with a charming smile and a devastating palate. It’s all very pleasant and quite inadequate as preparation for this wine, a product of the small estate vineyard.

Back to the smell. It’s not enough to describe this as regional, because that implies a sort of correct genericism that is misleadingly reductive. Yes, it’s spicy; but oh, what spice. Yes, it’s plummy; and how. This is Grampians Shiraz refined and amplified, showing an intensity and definition of aroma that is quite remarkable. There’s plenty of black pepper alongside other spices — clove, nutmeg, star anise — layered above dark, concentrated fruit and an important, well integrated layer of oak. This is a very assertive wine to smell, yet it shows absolute control despite its expressiveness. As with the best wines, it keeps changing too, each smell showing a different side of the wine.

The palate is quite classical in shape and surprisingly restrained in terms of body, which is medium rather than full. It gives the impression of being acid driven rather than primarily tannic, though tannins are abundantly present. Perhaps it’s a function of how fresh the fruit tastes. Entry is dark and textural, slipping layers of flavour onto the middle palate, where the wine sings with acid and vibrant berry fruit. This is a very young wine, so it’s not surprising that some oak sticks its neck out, slightly raw and yet to fold back into the rest of the wine. This should happen with some time in bottle. Intensity of flavour is remarkable, as is the pure line this wine follows through the after palate to its very long finish. Even though I’m predisposed to liking the region’s Shiraz, I’m having a hard time faulting this wine. It’s excellent, and I will be buying some.

Update: I’ve renamed this post to reflect the label (Ton Up Shiraz) under which this wine will be released in October. I’ve also added a retail price, below. The wine itself has barely moved over two days, tannins becoming marginally more plush, but otherwise still looking as attractive as ever.

Clayfield Wines
Price: $50
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Shaw Cabernet Sauvignon 2009

Canberra isn’t a region known for its Cabernet, although I admit I’ve always felt warmly about the few that I’ve tasted, most notably Clonakilla’s Ballinderry. This one from Shaw Estate Vineyard is an expressive, varietal Cabernet that has a lot going for it, I think.

The nose is typically dark fruited and leafy, with some surprising and welcome gravel notes too. There’s an elegance without being excessively lean or green that marks this as, for me, a stylish wine, even if angular too. No, this is what Cabernet should smell like: masculine, a bit challenging, putting aside plushness for well defined form.

The palate is more of the same, except the fruit is much more prominent here than on the nose. There’s a mellifluous streak of bright fruit that runs right down the line, perhaps simple and DMS-like but still attractive. Around this gather more leaf and gravel notes, as well as tannins that will delight texture freaks, though which may prove forbidding to less adventurous drinkers. I like their chewy confidence. Oak is present but feels subservient to the fruit’s contribution. A nice, linear finish ends the wine well. I thought this wine was a little hard at the back palate when I first tasted it but this is softening with each sip, so just be sure to give it a good swirl in the glass.

Good Cabernet and good value at $25.

Shaw Vineyard Estate
Price: $A25
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Stefano Lubiana Estate Pinot Noir 2010

There are all sorts of lovely wines coming out of the 2010 vintage, which is always a fun thing for a wine lover (though perhaps not for his or her wallet). To my great shame, I don’t taste all that many Tasmanian wines, so when this arrived in the mail I got straight into it.

A very masculine style. I’m aware that masculine and feminine are two of the more contested, and potentially meaningless, terms in the wine lexicon, but that’s the first impression this wine gave when it threw its aroma, and one that persists on tasting. The nose is firm, dark, brooding, with a firmly savoury profile and an uncompromising stance. This is light years from seductive, pretty Pinots and, for me, asks quite different questions. Not to suggest there isn’t perfume here; far from it. It’s actually quite expressive, but its aroma is well built, full of mighty columns and firm oak.

The nifty thing about this wine is that it takes a more challenging stance, flavour-wise, without losing its suppleness in the mouth. This has delightful flow over the tongue and a voluptuous mouthfeel that caresses with its fullness and fine texture. Savoury red fruits are more in evidence here than on the nose, showing a medicinal character as well as the influence of some stalk (though I was surprised to read only five percent whole bunches went into this). Acid brightens the after palate and keeps the finish vibrant and fresh. A hint of caramel closes each mouthful.On the downside, this tastes exceptionally young and its elements are not as well connected as they will be in a little while. Hardly a flaw; more like a promise.

Top Pinot.

Stefano Lubiana Wines
Price: $A50-55
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample