S.C. Pannell Tempranillo Touriga 2012

I purchased this at Brisbane’s excellent Craft Wine Store on the recommendation of a learned friend, who said it would be delicious.

And indeed it is. It’s funny how that can sometimes get pushed to the background with wine. Not that I believe an instinctive, hedonistic response is the only way to appreciate wine, but it’s certainly one way, and wines that immediately communicate a sense of deliciousness don’t always do so by way of simplicity. Unpicking what makes such a wine so appealing is actually far from easy.

A case in point, this one. It’s not simple — the flavour profile is quite layered — but it’s unreservedly accessible, due mostly to a core of purple fruit that I find impossibly tasty. Certainly, the wine’s fruit-forwardness is a big part of the appeal here. But there are plenty of fruit driven wines that don’t approach the attractiveness of this blend, so I think its appeal is not so much a question of balance as of the particular qualities — vibrancy, freshness, expressiveness — of the fruit here, as well as its combination of sweet and savoury elements. One might be tempted to intellectualise the flavours if they didn’t communicate so directly and, in doing so, be so resistant to study.

Structurally, tannins are a particular point of interest. They’re plentiful as well as ripe and fine such that, rather than contribute astringency to the palate, they simply create volume and density, carrying fruit to all corners and contributing a velvety opulence to the wine’s mouthfeel. There’s simply no angularity that doesn’t also have an equal and opposing answer, not to cancel out difficulty but to accompany it, to make sense of it.

It’s easy to believe great wines have to be somehow challenging, or inaccessible, in need of age, unyieldingly savoury, overtly structural, fruit-backward, and so on. Great wines can indeed be some or all of those things. But they don’t have to be. This is none of them yet I’d argue that, in its deliciousness, it exemplifies the sort of wine many of us seek out more often than not, a wine for drinking with abandon, for generous pours over dinner, for exclamations of enjoyment, each less inhibited than the next.

S.C. Pannell
Price: $A27
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Retail

Alkoomi Cabernets 2011

I lingered a little in Frankland River last May. Of all the sub-regions in Great Southern, this felt the most isolated and pastoral and, in being so, made flesh what I had until that point only been able to imagine about the region. To drive from Manjimup to Frankland River is in some ways to travel into the vastness of Australian agricultural life. Magnificent forests of impossibly tall trees give way to farmland that, in its cultivation, shows another side of the landscape’s beauty. I’d say it’s a pity it’s so isolated, but that isolation is an integral part of Frankland River’s appeal. To know you’re hours from a city of any significance makes the experience of being there so much more vivid.

I sometimes wonder about the challenge of marketing Great Southern wines. It’s as if the region’s remoteness translates to an equally remote connection those of us on the east coast feel for the producers who toil there. In any case, even a cursory taste of the region’s wines is sufficient to demonstrate this vast region, with its varied sub-regions, is capable of wines of exceptional quality. I had great visits with Alkoomi and Frankland Estate while in the sub-region, and was lucky to spend some time with Alkoomi’s winemaker Andrew Cherry when I popped in on a Sunday. Lots of wines impressed, but this particular wine stood out not just for its taste but for the value on offer.

It’s a real Bordeaux blend, this one, with all fruit harvested from the estate’s vineyard in quite a warm year. The aroma is thick with purple and black berries, and the floral lift I associate with Petit Verdot in particular. There are darker edges too, of damp twig and black spice, that add depth and savouriness to the aroma. What marks this, perhaps, as a wine of value is a certain lack of definition, of delineation between notes, that means the aroma tends to blurriness. Nonetheless, a nice wine to smell.

The palate tells a similar story. Berry flavour floods the mouth and is of a quality and character that far transcends its price point. This wine has especially good continuity down its line, with no unseemly peaks or troughs. It’s medium bodied and fresh-tasting, with ripe tannins that tighten the after palate and introduce a welcome textural dimension. As with the nose, flavours tend to blur into one another, and the wine lacks the sort of precise articulation one sees at higher price points.

Still, a real bargain at $18 and a great taste of Frankland River Cabernets.

Alkoomi
Price: $A18
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Retail

Robert Stein Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon Shiraz 2009

I’m quite sure the tide will turn in favour of Australia’s heritage styles eventually. Right now, the (often deserved) attention being paid to our Chardonnay and Pinot wines comes at the expense of wine styles with genuine lineage. I’m thinking of dry Riesling, fortified wines and, of course, the Cabernet Shiraz blend. As things stand today, this wine from Mudgee is firmly on the wrong side of fashion.

Which is a shame because, as many have remarked before me, there’s a lot to commend this particular blend. Shiraz’s tendency towards flesh on the mid-palate can work well with a leaner Cabernet, giving weight to the latter’s focus and structure. I sense when tasting this wine that the components are working in harmony. The dominant influence is certainly Cabernet, and the wine is quite linear on the palate. But there’s some sweet juiciness too, a swell on the mid-palate, that screams Shiraz. The balance struck between the two seems right to me and, while it’s not a wine that prioritises finesse, it does retain an elegance of fruit despite its fundamentally ballsy character. The wine’s region also sings loudly, with a characteristic red dirt/dust note featuring on both nose and palate.

I do find, though, that oak plays a fairly strident role in the wine’s flavour profile at present. It’s glossy and glamourous for sure, yet I can taste it quite separately from the fruit, which suggests a bit of time for it to integrate would be of benefit. Acid is also a smidge disjointed at the back of the palate, leading to an orange juice, sweet-sour impression as the wine moves through its final moments. So, a wine that remains youthful and edgy, in need of time.

Robert Stein
Price: $A60
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Chapel Hill Sangiovese 2012

A strong regional imprint is often celebrated: we seek evidence of region and site with Pinot, we love that Shiraz is a chameleon, and Riesling’s transparency gives regions their raison d’être. Sangiovese produced in McLaren Vale isn’t so lucky. The variety’s been in this beautiful, historic region for a while, and the impact of certain early wines like Coriole’s have imprinted this particular region-variety relationship on my consciousness. Yet it’s often criticised for tasting nothing like Sangiovese, by which we presumably mean Chianti, and too much like McLaren Vale. I think I may have even contributed to that line of thinking.

This wine, a modest example of the genre, has me wondering whether tasting like McLaren Vale isn’t such a bad thing. It is, after all, a region that effortlessly produces full-flavoured red wines of considerable appeal, despite being in many ways the stylistic antithesis of Tuscany. The key here is that this wine, and many McLaren Vale Sangioveses, inherit enough of the region’s imprint to take the variety in a new direction. As I smell this, it is a curious mash-up of the red berried exuberance of McLaren Vale and the more angular savouriness of Sangiovese. Some might argue it falls into a stylistic no man’s land as a result; that’s simply a matter of taste. For mine, this is luscious enough to satisfy my cravings for a slutty red wine, and odd enough to mark it apart from more familiar Shiraz and Cabernet siblings. It also has a reductive edge I’m not so hot on, though this seems to be blowing off with some air.

The palate tells a similar story, with little of the structural aggressiveness Sangiovese can show. In its place, rather pillowy tannins and plump fruit that slips and slides all over the tongue as it leaves behind ripe, pleasingly savoury flavours. Acid is quite firm and brings to life some of the more varietal flavours present here — almonds mostly. It’s medium bodied at least and, in terms of shape and size in the mouth, very regional.

It’s a humble wine to hang so much on, but I think it does show some varietal interest while being true to its region. Just don’t expect an Italian.

Chapel Hill
Price: $A25
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Lost Lake Single Vineyard Pinot Noir 2011

Partly out of perversity, I was on a Pinot kick while visiting Western Australia earlier this year. So, while driving around the Pemberton, Manjimup and Great Southern wine regions, I sought out as many examples as I could. Pemberton offered up plenty in this regard, with Pinot something of a regional speciality.

Pemberton’s a funny wine region; the vast, well-funded cellar doors of Margaret River are a long way away and the mix of local producers ranges from hobby to medium sized family. Larger wineries like Houghton have historically obtained grapes from Pemberton too, though the number of derelict and decommissioned vineyards I saw in the area suggests this may have recently changed.

Back to this wine, though, which is handsomely packaged in a bottle of sensible weight and represents Lost Lake’s entry level Pinot. The nose is utterly, screamingly varietal, with the lifted floral aromatics and bright red fruit of the variety at its most recognisable. There are edges of dark spice and undergrowth too, not loud enough to distract, but certainly adding some welcome complexity. Balanced, bright and attractive.

The palate is more challenging in that it feels quite extracted given the flavour profile of the fruit. Entry is light and bright, with good acid carrying fresh fruit onto the mid-palate. Here, tannin starts to emerge and the wine’s weight seems to grow. The after palate becomes quite savoury and textured, tannins again a primary feature. There’s decent extension through the back palate, though the fruit here seems less fresh and the flavour profile almost caramelised. It’s not at all unpleasant, but I miss the simplicity and vibrant freshness of the aroma and attack. I’d be interested to taste Lost Lake’s barrel selection, as some more fruit power and density could carry this sort of structure more easily.

Still, a very pleasant wine for not a lot of money.

Lost Lake
Price: $A25
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Retail

Collector Reserve Shiraz 2006

Looking back over my notes, I first tasted this in 2008, and again in 2009 with Chris. What’s striking about the glass in front of me now is how little it has changed from, in particular, my initial encounter.

This is still massively primary on the nose, the density of fruit I noted back in 2008 remaining a feature of the aroma profile, as is its just-out-of-the-gate freshness. Rich red and black fruits, pepper and other spices, firm oak; this certainly has the spice of a cooler climate wine along with the assertiveness and rich depth of a warmer climate one. Part of me feels this is Australia’s sweet spot in contemporary Shiraz – wines that show the ripeness and generosity of fruit achieved in our classic styles combined with the sort of spice and meatiness colder weather can bring. Best of both worlds, in a way.

In the mouth, still spicy and dominated by dense, muscular berry fruit. As I originally noted, this isn’t a wine of subtlety, but it never feels caricatured to me, always retaining a sappy, spicy edge to counterbalance its rich fruit. Here on the palate I’m getting a greater contribution from bottle age, with some lightly leathery flavours edging in and adding a sheen to the wine’s primary flavours. I previously suggested this wine was soft in acid, but on this tasting I’m getting good structure, both acid and tannin, which is keeping the wine brisk and firm. The after palate is perhaps starting to lose some fruit weight now, signalling the wine’s future as an altogether mellower experience.

If anything, this wine plays it a bit safe. It’s perfectly formed in its way, yet I wish it showed a wilder streak, something to lift it above being the excellent wine it already is and turn it into something truly memorable.

Collector
Price: $A46
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Retail

Topper’s Mountain Tempranillo 2010

They’re an interesting bunch at Topper’s Mountain. Working in a — to put it kindly — low profile region, this estate produces a vast array of wines that start at familiar and end at unique (I’m not aware of any other spontaneously and barrel fermented Petit Mansengs being made in Australia, though I’m sure my knowledgeable readership will correct me if I’m wrong). Indeed, there seems to be plenty of experimentation going on, and the quality can be high.

This shows a cuddlier side of Tempranillo. It’s not all savouriness and structure; instead, we get cherry fruit, cola and spice. There’s a lightfooted generosity to the aroma that I like and, although it’s not especially complex, its flavours are well delineated. Oak makes a slightly spiky contribution.

In the mouth it’s less coherent than it smells, with a few elements jutting out. Acid jangles a bit and collides with a rather voluminous, fruit-driven mid-palate. I wish for more evenly textured tannin to counterbalance the wine’s slippery fruit and complement its savoury flavours. But I’m nit-picking. Mostly, this shoots a nice dollop of flavour onto the tongue, with plenty of red fruit, spice and oak. It’s generous but only medium-bodied and generally easygoing, so shouldn’t overwhelm food.

Topper’s Mountain
Price: $A38
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Georges Vigouroux Les Comtes Cahors Malbec 2011

I’m not quite sure what I’m expecting from these inexpensive supermarket-sourced wines, but perhaps it shouldn’t be a complete surprise when I come away disappointed. To the extent that I opened this bottle with any sense of hope at all, it quickly diminished on seeing stubby plastic cork. Not a good start.

I’m not sure what to prefer: a cheap Madiran with a semblance of regionality but little sensual satisfaction, or this, a much more generous wine whose style, unfortunately, tends towards the generic. On pouring, it certainly looks the goods, showing a very dark hue and significant density of colour. Aromatically, my first impression is of sweet, vanilla oak that smothers aromas of sweet red fruit. The most obvious oak aromas blow off, though, and the wine ends up quite well balanced, if simple and a bit characterless.

Sweet red fruit is the name of the game on the palate and, for those who enjoy the Malbec flavour profile, this is an inexpensive way to get a fix. It’s medium bodied with a flash of fruit on the mid-palate and a generally disjointed set of components. A bit of acid here, some oak there, a tap of tannin brining up the rear. Very clean and bright, overall.

Not a bad weekday red for distracted drinkers.

Georges Vigouroux
Price: £8.99
Closure: Synthetic cork
Source: Retail

Vignobles de Gascogne Madiran Reserve des Tuguets 2010

As much as I adore aromatic white wines and light, elegant reds, after several weeks in Germany I have developed unhealthily deep cravings for something big, tannic and slutty. I’m in the UK right now, so my usual game of restricting myself to supermarket wine holds. A recent visit to a Tesco the size of a small village resulted in this, a Madiran with some Cabernet Sauvignon and Franc in addition to the usual Tannat. Surely a combination to salve some of my tannin withdrawl.

And yes, it’s reasonably tannic. It’s also, initially, pretty mean, showing little lusciousness of fruit and, in its place, a bloody flavour profile that’s not metallic so much as sinewy and spare. There are big holes in the aroma and flavour of this wine, holes that are are partially addressed with air, but it remains a fundamentally lean, savoury wine even through extended tasting. To the extent there is overt fruit character, it’s bright and red, with some sweetness but little weight. Structure is more gratifying, with tannins that are well textured and acid that keeps things fleet. Yet I can’t love the balance of this wine, and the whole is akin to someone painfully skinny who isn’t, alas, especially handsome either.

At Tesco, I also purchased a Cahors I hope will provide more satisfaction.

Vignobles de Gascogne
Price: £8.99
Closure: Cork
Source: Retail

Quinta do Vale Meao Meandro Red 2011

Today’s spectacular train journey along the Linha do Douro has deposited me in the pretty town of Pinhão, Portugal. I’m in the heart of Douro wine country, surrounded by terraced vineyards that defy common sense and Quintas whose names shout loudly from brightly whitewashed walls along the river banks. I went to a local restaurant tonight, one that I can recommend highly (the Restaurant bar veladouro), and drank entirely on the recommendation of the house. Why aren’t Portuguese table wines better known? I’ve had several beautiful wines in my two days in the country so far, and I’m quite confident there will be more to come.

Just bottled in June of this year, this is a blend of Touriga Nacional, Touriga Franca, Tinta Roriz, Sousão, Tinta Barroca and Tinta Cão. The aroma shows notes that span a range from determinedly odd to almost familiar. Hessian, tart dark berries, sea spray, sap and a subtle sprinkling of fruit cake spice. It’s already busy for such a young wine, although its notes do stand apart from one another somewhat. Still, the overall impression is one of complexity, subtlety and and balance, with juicier berry notes sneaking in over time.

In the mouth, medium bodied with a fine tannin structure and mid-palate that is waiting to relax and please. For now, acid keeps things in good check, such that the experience of this wine remains somewhat linear. There’s a lot of savoury complexity through the after palate. including a contribution from oak that tastes rather raw for now. It’s clearly a young wine, but its components are achingly good in a restrained, modest way. The best is yet to come here.

I enjoyed this bottle of wine with a traditional Portuguese meal of salted cod gratin. An unlikely, but sympathetic, pairing.

Quinta do Vale Meao
Price: €20 (wine list)
Closure: Cork
Source: Retail