Flaxman Shhh Cabernet 2008

I was home late this evening, a consequence of having too much to do and not enough time in which to do it. Being generally indecisive when faced with too much choice, I was amused to observe an instinctive lunge towards a box of Flaxman samples as I was pondering what to drink. My experience of this producer’s red wines is one of generous deliciousness, perhaps going the extra mile in ripeness and oak to achieve more giving wines. Just the ticket.

Interestingly, although this shows no shortage of flavour, there’s an essential elegance to this wine that remains true to its variety. The nose is a nice blend of Eden earthiness and Cabernet purity, the former adding edge and texture to red fruit character that would otherwise tend towards confectionary. Hints of twig, crushed leaf and tart skins add complexity. There’s some oak in there for sure, and it tends to sit in the background, contributing some subtle spice and nougat aromas.

The palate is medium bodied and acid driven, surprisingly so in a way, and what I am enjoying most about this wine is the clean way it moves through the mouth, leaving trails of intense fruit flavour behind, but never cloying or appearing heavy. Entry is lively and immediate, building quickly to a middle palate that is both textural (mostly acid) and powerfully flavoured. If you can accept the fruit flavour profile on its own terms (and it’s very different from cooler climate Cabernets), this will be a pleasure. If not, you may wish for a less exuberant, more subtle wine. It’s all a matter of taste and occasion, I suppose; this is a wine that gives plenty without asking for much in return. And, as attractive as a bit of mystery can be, there’s a place for easy charms, even when it comes to Cabernet. A bit dippy through the after palate and finish, with a light dusting of charmingly coarse tannins.

Flaxman Wines
Price: $A35
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Field Recordings Koligian Vineyard "Chorus Effect" 2008

This is American wine.

Fabulously complex, this wine shows the very best America has to offer while still maintaining a respectful echo of Old World tradition. The nose is cedary (without smelling like a wardrobe), spicy within tasteful bounds, and displays a finely layered, overlapping, intricate mesh of little red fruits. It’s reminiscent of balsamic vinegar in which strawberries have steeped, or perhaps of dried plums and brandy. More intriguingly, there’s a faint hint of cold, wet granite and faded violets: the initial sweetness of the nose is quickly replaced by something more serious, more complex, more interesting.

Texturally, the wine is a marvel, rich and full in the mouth without being sappy or fat. The firm tannins resolve quickly and firmly into a sharp, precise stop; then, the finish then creeps forward ever so slowly with hints of molasses and dried cherries, smoke and fading embers. In the distance, you can feel the cold northern lights fading, wisps of wintergreen and peat in the air.

No two mouthfuls taste exactly the same: it’s much like listening to a La Monte Young drone piece. Imagine a six channel audio setup in which every speaker is playing something different at the same volume; if you can will yourself to cede concentration and lose yourself to the moment, you’ll experience overlapping washes of physical experience. Pretty cool, come to think of it: if some wines bowl you over with sheer power and others with delicate beauty, the joy to be found here seems to exist in the tension between its multiple, unresolved elements. Difficult as hell to pull off, this is an excellent example of the genre.

The best New World wines are like this one: wonderfully ripe, exuberant, and bold – and yet restrained enough to give you time and space to appreciate the subtleties of place. There is absolutely no possible way this could have come from Bordeaux; that is a strength, not a fault. Just as Ridge Geyserville or Hedges Red Mountain are distinct, unique wines that don’t feel like they could have come from anywhere else, this wine only leaves me with one question: Why hasn’t anyone made this before? It just feels right, somehow.

Field Recordings.
Price: $27
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Retail

Yelland & Papps Divine Shiraz 2008

At $65, this wine sits firmly in “icon” territory on price alone. What’s interesting to me is that its producer, Yelland & Papps, typically produces joyously, perhaps even excessively, easy-drinking expressions of the classic Barossa Valley varieties (Grenache, Shiraz). How will this approach translate to a price point at which drinkers will undoubtedly expect so much more?

Once I recovered from pouring a glass from what is surely the heaviest bottle I’ve ever encountered, the nose screamed immediately “more.” More fruit, greater density, a surplus of oak; this wine is quite packed with elements, and they struggle at first to make their way coherently from the glass. It’s like the Boxing Day sales of yore, shoppers trampling over each other to get to the single, ridiculously discounted fridge freezer on Level 3. There’s plum essence, fruit cake spice and rather glossy cedar oak in the main. Perhaps slightly lifted, which helps the red fruit notes sing. I don’t think there’s an excess of complexity; rather, the focus is on impact and sheer quantity.

If anything, the palate is even more forceful. There’s a thickness of mouthfeel and generosity of flavour that’s immediately evident on entry, and it fairly forces the mouth open in order to accommodate all that it has to offer (including a fairly visible alcohol level of 15% abv). Super concentrated plum juice, all manner of red and black berries, more spice, more oak. There’s so much here I’m not sure where to look, but I can remark with some certainty that few will be left wanting more flavour than is here.

All of which causes me to return to my starting point, which is to question the stylistic implications of a reserve-level wine. Yelland & Papps has taken a relatively conventional approach of “more is more,” and within the style this is a really good wine, full of quality fruit and showing well-handled oak in particular. And, although it’s not what I’d class as an easy drinking wine, this somehow feels right within the context of the producer’s house style. Yet I can’t help wondering what the alternate options might be. A finer wine, perhaps, more detailed and characterful? Something challenging, with more adventurous winemaking or angular flavours? A style that mines less well travelled implications of Barossa terroir?

It’s no doubt wrong to criticise something for what it isn’t, and I hope my note makes clear that this wine has several outstanding features. Perhaps my own craving for novelty is the issue in this instance; drinkers are advised to crack open a bottle of this and enjoy what the Barossa does best.

Yelland & Papps
Price: $A65
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

La Linda Cabernet Sauvignon 2008

Tell you what: This is the new deal. If you send me a sample of your wine, I will do my very best to provide you a piece of writing which may or may not have anything to do what’s in the glass. Think of it as something for nothing (other than a small ding in your PR budget): you send me wine, and you get (hopefully interesting, probably rambling) free association about the semiotics of your wine, random commentary, and maybe even an actual tasting note.

On to this sample, then, courtesy of an East Coast public relations agency who offered it up unbidden. (I replied thanking them and asking them for information on Australian availability, given that many of our readers don’t live in the eastern USA. They didn’t reply to that question, but they did send a bottle, which is lovely.) I initially agreed because I’d heard of Luigi Bosca; I have vague good memories of them from a weekend in Mendoza that was preceded by an incredibly long bus trip thanks to a general strike at the nation’s airports.

I’ll start by saying this: Screw Flash. Really. It’s just annoying. I went to load their Web site (linked below) and had to wait for a lame-ass animation of YAY A CORKSCREW uncorking white space in my browser. You know what, guys? Save the money and put it in your product. All I want from a winery’s Web site is technical sheets about their products (with tasting notes, perhaps), information on where to buy some, and maybe even a list of upcoming events at the winery. That’s it. And you know what else I really don’t want? One of those annoying “Please enter your birthdate!!!” pages. Hint: It’s the Internet. I’m sure that 20-year-olds will see that pages and say “You know what, never mind. I’m not old enough to drink, so I had better leave this Argentine wine site and go back to talking about Justin Bieber on Facebook with my little sister.” Please. It’s just irritating, ESPECIALLY when you have to enter your birthday using a Flash UI. STOP IT. (For the record, I was born on 1 January 1910.)

On to the wine, but before I begin, I’ll note that Luigi Bosca seems to have erupted in a mad bout of branding, PR dollars, and marketing a go go. This is cool; I loved their Gala wines, but if they want to sell twenty different wines at multiple price points with different branding entirely, that’s just fine. This wine, La Linda, or “the beautiful,” is their cheap stuff, selling for well under ten bucks in the USA. With that in mind, I’ll start by looking at the packaging: the foil is a little cheap looking, the cork has some kind of laser-printed inventory or other number on it, but once that’s gone, you have a fairly splendid looking bottle that exudes class. The label is well printed and looks like a twenty dollar wine; there’s exactly enough information on the back label to help your average supermarket consumer decide if this is the wine they’re looking for (geographical information, a straightforward, honest tasting note, and food pairings (red meats!)). In short, everything is perfect here; it looks like it was destined for Oddbins or any decent supermarket.

So what have we got in the glass, then? A bruiser of purplish-black, inky wine, blackberry sweet on the nose, but with an attractive seam of rich, toasty, vanilla oak (chips?). The real surprise is on the palate, where the wine pivots into something much more interesting (and useful to restaurateurs): a higher-toned, nicely acidic, brightly lifted red wine that seems purpose built for the wine list at an all-you-can-eat churrasceria joint in Dallas or Washington. The palate is classy, friendly, and slowly gives way to a firm but friendly tannic finish that should do incredibly well with charcuterie or, well, huge frickin’ steaks. Oh, and I almost forgot the best part: it’s only 13.5% alcohol, which means you can share a bottle with your partner and not have to call a cab home afterwards.The only competition I can really see for a wine like this – at least locally – would be something like a Columbia Crest Grand Estates Merlot from Washington, which offers an approximately similar drinking experience at a similar price point. Where this wine shines by comparison, though, is the classier packaging, the more complex taste, and perceived value (hey, it’s an import!).

If you run a restaurant, this would be perfect for a steakhouse, upscale Mexican restaurant, or themed Brazilian dining. There’s no reason you couldn’t charge $30 for this and profit handsomely; if I were the importer, I’d concentrate on hospitality sales and avoid retail, where it might not fit in to the standard retail mix (two wines from Argentina, one Torrontés, one Malbec).

Luigi Bosca
Price: $8.99
Closure: Cork
Source: Sample

Clonakilla Shiraz Viognier 1998

A couple of weeks back, I finally, finally got around to inventorying all of the wine that’s stashed around the house (and in the garage). The single most important thing I learned? I have way, way too much wine. (Duh.) Most surprising of all, however, was coming to the realization that I had a few things in the dodgy wine fridge in the garage that I had completely forgotten about. Case of 2002 Petaluma riesling? Check. Six pack of 1998 Clonakilla s/v that presumably came from the closeout bin somewhere, complete with discounted price stickers? Check. Why I didn’t realize this earlier, I have absolutely no idea. So what to with this stuff? Easy: Drink it.

This wine doesn’t look remarkably old; the cork was in good shape and it’d been carefully cellared for a good long time. It’s beautiful to look at, with some browning towards the rim, but more importantly it’s got that lovely sort of finely particulate look that I for whatever reason enjoy. On the nose, this smells like nothing so much as Cornas. Honestly. It’s got just a hint of rich, dark syrah fruit – but over and above that it’s got real minerality, charred back bacon, dried violets, and the smell of rye bread baked over an open fire, giving it a roasted, charry, smoky effect.

Upon entry, the first thing that strikes me is the relatively light feel of the wine, combined with a surprise sourness. However, given time and attention, the palate does fill out, balancing the sourness with bright, sharp red fruit. Tannins are still very much present, but nicely silken and restrained at this point; there also seems to be just a hint of cocoa on the finish, which gracefully declines into a lively, babble of sweet cherry fruit and spicy, earthy meats.

I don’t know what this wine was like when it was younger; a lot’s happened since these grapes were harvested. There is a real beauty to this wine, though, and although it may not be the most complex or enthralling Clonakilla I’ve tasted, it still has moments of transcendence and beauty to offer.

Clonakilla
Price: $30
Closure: Cork
Source: Retail

De Bortoli Yarra Valley Estate Pinot Noir Rosé 2010

The back label parenthetically describes this wine as “pale and dry.” They’re not kidding. This is a daring wine and one that may defy many drinkers’ expectations of rosé.

A very pale salmon colour, this gives off a range of angular, fragrant aromas. Peach skins, light plum juice, minerals, pink flowers. This is far from a sweet style, yet there’s a hint of icing sugar peeping out from amongst all the straight-faced seriousness that is making me smile. It’s a cheeky nod to rosé’s typical function as a refreshing, accessible drink, and here it works to draw you in past what might be a forbidding level of savouriness. Overall, the aroma is moderately expressive, neither too flouncy nor irritatingly reticent.

The palate, however, shows a degree of power that isn’t really suggested by the nose.This is a serious wine, to be sure. There’s a nice fleshy fullness in the mouth that accentuates red fruit and rosehip notes, and which is balanced out by tart, firm acid. Structurally, this wine is full of interest and I especially like the hit of chalky, dry texture through the after palate. This dimension is so enjoyable that I’m prompted to wonder whether a more extreme approach to texture, with additional lees work or even some barrel action, would yield an even more interesting style. No matter, there’s lots of satisfaction here. Good drive through the line and a very satisfying, lightly candied finish.

Fascinating wine.

De Bortoli
Price: $A24
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Mount Langi Ghiran Langi Shiraz 2007

This label, long iconic, has caused an even greater sensation of late, the 2008 vintage having recently been named the Penguin Wine Guide’s wine of the year. I was therefore surprised and happy to see this wine — which was made in extremely limited quantities due, I believe, to frost damage — on a restaurant wine list this week, sporting a relatively small markup. I promptly ordered a bottle and had it decanted an hour or so prior to drinking.

Some of my wine writing colleagues have expressed quite negative reactions to the Langi style, and I can certainly see why. This is a full-throttle wine, quite undeterred by the notion that Grampians Shiraz ought to represent restrained, medium bodied elegance. There are lashings of oak immediately evident on the nose, and these dirty spice flavours combine with regional plum fruit to create a dark, dense aroma profile. This is the Grampians on steroids, all ultra-plum and squishy blackberries, dark spice and wet wood.

The palate is quite acidic, showing plum flesh, brown spice and pepper (black and white). Lots of flavours and good typicité, then. Stylistically, this is dense and muscular to the point of being slightly clumsy, and it’s here that some drinkers may come unstuck. Does this level of density, of oak and of raw power speak of the Grampians? Or does this wine represent a distortion of its region, a twisting of terroir into something barely recognisable? One thing’s for sure, the quality of the fruit here is superb. It’s clear from this and previous vintages tasted the Langi Ghiran site is capable of producing fruit with the most wonderful flavour and structure. Tannins are raw, raspy, completely fabulous and in need of a while more to settle. Whether they will calm in line with fruit flavours remains to be seen; I’ve tasted older Langis that have aged beautifully, and others whose oak has clearly outlived the fruit. No matter; it’s good to drink now with a good decant and appropriate food.

A real statement wine. I rather liked it.

Mount Langi Ghiran
Price: $A98 (wine list)
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Retail

Moppity Vineyards Reserve Shiraz 2008

This is quite a wine. After a few days of tasting fundamentally uninteresting commercial styles, one sniff of this reminded me of what wine can be, of how it can fill a room and one’s senses with individualism and character.

Which probably means some people will hate it, and those likely to disapprove are those with an aversion to spicy, cooler climate Shiraz styles of the sort Australia does so well but is so little known for. This wine, from Hilltops in New South Wales, is a full-on pepper attack at first, each twist of the grinder revealing blackberry brambles, snapped twig and all sorts of other wild, meaty aromas that are about as far from Barossa Shiraz as you can get. It’s sharp and complex and neatly avoids any sense of out-and-out aggressiveness.

The palate is both light and powerful. What stands out most for me is the way each flavour wraps around the others while remaining quite distinct; this gives the wine a sinewy, taut character that is quite thrilling. Entry is spiced and red fruited in equal measure, the flavour profile being entirely savoury and the acid prominent. While the middle palate remains light to medium bodied, there’s a good deal of flavour and its sharp, spiced profile gives the wine satisfying impact. The after palate shows some plush plum fruit alongside twigs and spice (and a hint of vanilla ice cream oak), while the finish is both delicate and long. The acid needs a little time to settle, I think, as it’s currently quite assertive, something the sharp flavour profile does not mask. Tannins are drying and loose-knit.

Still an infant, but bloody impressive nonetheless. I’ll be fascinated to revisit this in a few years’ time.

Moppity Vineyards
Price: $A60
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Lowe Merlot 2006

An organic wine from Mudgee, this comes complete with a few years’ bottle age and a cork seal (!). It forms the latest chapter in my search for great Australian Merlot, a search that has provided flashes of aesthetic satisfaction in amongst large swathes of disappointing mediocrity. This wine is promising in terms of the manner of its creation: fruit from a single block, hand picked and passed through a largely “non-interventionist” (don’t get me started) winemaking regime. So far so good.

There was an odd sediment in the neck of the bottle that I had to dislodge before pouring. I was momentarily fearful of spoilage, but the bottle is sound. Aromas of clean red fruit, not plums so much as raspberries and brandied cherries, with a distinctive edge of undergrowth mixed with damp earth This isn’t the red earthiness of Hunter wines, but rather something more decaying, autumnal. There’s a twiggy sharpness at the back of the nose, perhaps related to oak. Good depth of aroma profile.

The palate possesses a thick, textured mouthfeel that, oddly, feels related to the earthy aromas on the nose. Immediate flavour and texture on entry, with quite bright acidity ushering complex red and black fruit flavours onto the middle palate, where they are joined by black olives and brown earth. The wine is full and rich-feeling, not plush so much as charismatic. I wish for slightly greater definition to the flavours; I enjoy Merlot that embodies the paradox of soft fruit flavours, cleanly articulated. But there’s no lack of flavour, and this continues well through the after palate, where oak and brandied fruit take over. The tannins are full and velvety, very much present even at this stage of the wine’s life. A dry, raspy finish that shoots up into higher toned fruit flavours and which persists well.

There’s a lot to like here, though the overall impression is of rough-hewn wood rather than polished sculpture. Potential plus, and a label to watch.

Lowe Wines
Price: $A30
Closure: Cork
Source: Sample

Tinja Preservative Free Merlot 2010

It strikes me as difficult to write about this wine without making its preservative free, organic status central to the discussion, purely because such wines are relatively uncommon. This wine understands the value of rarity; its back label acknowledges it has been made to meet an “overwhelming demand” for such styles. I don’t know enough about the market to know if this is accurate or anticipatory. In any case, it appears this isn’t a one-trick pony. For starters, the fruit originates from low-yielding, unirrigated vines and was handpicked; hardly the most cost-effective way of supplying a niche market that (and perhaps I’m being unkind) may not be driven primarily by a passion for beautiful wine.

So I approach it assuming an integrity of intent, and am pleased to note it is, at the very least, soundly made. It’s also extremely young; there’s even some spritz in the glass that seems to have wandered in from a bottle of Hunter Semillon. Given its age and style, the flavour profile is inevitably bright and redolent of fermentation esters as much as fruit notes. I’m a little torn; on the one hand, my instinct is to suggest leaving it for a few months to settle, but I’ve no experience with this type of wine so wouldn’t have a clue how it will evolve.

The palate is light and quite savoury, with crunchy (perhaps overly assertive) acid cutting through moderately intense fruit flavours that tend towards the red fruit spectrum. What tannins there are come across as chalky, loose and pleasantly textural. There’s basically no complexity, and nor would one expect there to be. What’s important here is a flavour profile that avoids obvious, sweet fruit, and which I suspect is very food friendly.

I’m not sure this wine has a place in my life, but it’s nice to know there’s a worthwhile example available to those who value the style.

Lowe Wines
Price: $A20
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample