Glaetzer Wallace Shiraz Grenache 2006

Barossa Valley reds aren’t terribly well represented in my cellar (or, by extension, in my posts to this blog), about which I feel vaguely irresponsible. It’s one of our classic red wine regions, after all, and the fact that I don’t often feel like drinking its wines probably says more about my lack of discernment than anything else. No matter — tonight I’m cooking a spicy pasta dish, and a fruit-driven red wine will be (I hope) just the ticket. Hence this Shiraz/Grenache blend.

Before I describe the wine, I must say a word in favour of the packaging, which is distinctive and classy. A nice alternative to retro/euro labels without descending into tackiness. An intense, pungent nose of baked clay/earth and spice. It smells like a hot Summer’s day, and I’d like to think the fruit experienced a fair few along its journey towards this bottle. There’s also a slightly volatile vanilla note and, of course, a whack of jammy red fruit. Somewhat complex, commendably regional and expressive of real personality.

Good line from nose to mouth, with a clean, immediate continuation of the aroma’s baked earth and fruit notes. The wine is lighter in body than I expected, and more acidic, all of which subverts an abortive expectation of this as a lazy fruit bomb. Not at all. Flavour is certainly generous, but there’s too much spice, earth and structure to allow complete relaxation in the mouth. It’s lively and bright, with acid and loose-knit tannins creating an almost crunchy mouthfeel. There is more red fruit and vanilla here, along with nut/bark-like spice notes. I wish there were a notch more intensity at the mid-palate. Good drive through the lifted after palate, with nary a dip or dodge along the way to a decent finish.

Good balance, complexity and distinctiveness, but little of the depth and three dimensionality of better wines. I admire such a strong sense of style in a wine at this price point, even if this means the wine will be necessarily (and happily) divisive. Lovers of Barossa reds needn’t hesitate.

Glaetzer
Price: $A22
Closure: Stelvin
Date tasted: October 2008

Château le Crock 1996

No doubt many have remarked that French wine labels often lose something in translation. This wine, a Cru Bourgeois from Saint-Estèphe, suffers more acutely than most from this phenomenon, especially in an Australian context. What’s in the bottle, thankfully, is anything but a crock.

Classic nose of varietal fruit (perhaps a little DMS-y, but not unpleasantly so), dusty leaf and cigar box. It’s clean and rings as clear as a bell in terms of its definition. Although still quite youthful, there’s just enough complexity and hints of tertiary development to draw you in and sniff more deeply each time.

The palate confirms this wine’s substance. I’m not sure what pleases me most on entry, the textured, fresh acidity or the fact that flavour fills out immediately the wine strikes the tongue. From this point, there’s no great crescendo or exaggerated dimension of line. No, this wine is about measured elegance and quietly spoken confidence. Medium bodied, the palate shows a firm yet gentle progression of flavours through the middle palate. More blackcurrant, cigar box, and hints of spicy cedar oak. Acidity injects some sourness, to me delicious, into this flavour profile. Flavours are very well integrated and the wine tastes more of a single, multi-dimensional note than separate strands. The after palate shows some lift, which helps the flavours to come into sharp focus just before things conclude in a long, slightly sweet finish. Tannins are soft and totally integrated — one isn’t prompted to consider them as a separate element.

Very moreish, this one. The only point of contention for me is the fruit character, which is perhaps slightly simple on the nose and teeters on the edge of being “too clean.” Taken as a whole, though, there’s plenty of complexity and interest on the palate, and it’s hard to argue with such a classically structured wine. Lovely.

Château le Crock
Price: $NA
Closure: Cork
Date tasted: September 2008

Tyrrell's Vat 9 Hunter Shiraz 2007

I didn’t buy any Vat 8 this year, so with this note I conclude my tastings of new release Tyrrell’s reds. Unlike the 4 Acres and Old Patch, this wine is still available from cellar door.

A riotously fragrant wine that, when first poured, smelled for all the world like a Central Otago Pinot. Sweet earthiness, though, gives the regional game away. I’m finding the aroma profile a little difficult to describe. It’s floral and shows confident, yet lightfooted, plum fruit, some spice and dustiness of the sort one usually associates more with neglected cupboards than wine. It’s quite high toned and complex, and (to me) delicious.

The palate continues the nose’s generosity. Tingly, fresh acidity hits the tongue and awakens it to a subsequent wave of bright red fruit and sweet spice. Body is light to medium, but intensity is considerable. Flavours of sour plum, spice and licorice allsorts coat the tongue, helped by a mouthfeel that moderates acidic prickles with a fine velvet caress. There’s some drop off on the after palate, as the wine’s acidity tends to overwhelm the fruit flavour somewhat. The finish, however, goes on and on.

It’s quite approachable now, but I suspect this wine will fill out in the most delicious manner with some bottle age. For my taste, and for all its complexity and sophistication, it needs some depth in the lower registers to be truly complete. That should come with patience on my part. The only real disappointment here is a label design that has abandoned its retro origins at time when a baroque aesthetic couldn’t be hotter. Shame.

Tyrrell’s
Price: $A35
Closure: Cork
Date tasted: September 2008

Bannockburn Shiraz 1998

This wine’s legend precedes it. For those not aware, the back label summarises its story: after hail destroyed Bannockburn’s 1998 estate Shiraz crop, a whole range of other wineries sent in their Shiraz grapes for inclusion in this wine. Hence the South Eastern Australia appelation. A real one-off cuvée and the sort of vinous curiosity that’s arguably more interesting to think about than taste.

The nose shows a flamboyant aroma profile of equal parts soil and aged leather, with some stale spice thrown in. To be honest, it comes across as a little funky and not especially clean, but to my taste these aren’t issues per se. Whatever your tolerance for wilder aromas, there’s no arguing this wine makes an immediate statement.

Good weight on entry, with slightly DMS-like blackcurrant fruit and good presence overall. Some stalky overtones establish the character and style of the wine. It seems full bodied at this stage. The mid-palate feels lush and resolved, but just as one relaxes into things, the after palate introduces quite drying tannins. These attenuate the wine’s nascent expansiveness and pinch its sense of scale. So its line is akin to a wedge, narrowing as it approaches the finish, and hollowing out somewhat in terms of fruit weight too. The finish feels a little “inside out,” as it’s dry with a notable absence of fruit weight.

Not an especially elegant wine, and perhaps past its best. I’m glad I tasted it, though. Wines like these add a welcome note of quirkiness to the local wine scene.

Bannockburn
Price: $NA
Closure: Cork
Date tasted: September 2008

Château Moulin Riche 1996

This is the second wine of Chateau Léoville Poyferré and, without wanting to spoil the fun, is bloody good. I’m on to my second glass now, and the aroma profile keeps refining its silhouette, shifting from one version of itself to the next.

It opened a bit stinky, perhaps seaweedy, with wisps of cedar and other complexities coiling around each other. After a while, the stink has blown off, leaving pencil shavings and berry fruit elegance behind. It’s all highly sniffable, and remarkably complete purely in terms of its aroma. The palate doesn’t disappoint, as it carries forward many threads from the nose while adding significant textural interest. Smooth and subtle on entry, the wine builds flavour towards the mid-palate, which is medium bodied at most. There’s more blackcurrant and cedar here, perhaps a hint of leathery bottle age too but no more than a hint. If it never quite realises the degree of intensity one might have expected (or desired), there’s delightful compensation in the integrated, luxurious tannins that creep up from behind and delicately claw their way on to the tongue. Decent, fruit-driven finish with a suggestion of tertiary sweetness (which I’m a sucker for).

An excellent, balanced wine that’s all about style.

Château Moulin Riche
Price: $NA
Closure: Cork
Date tasted: September 2008

Tir na N'og "Old Vines" Grenache 2006

Is it possible to be entirely prejudiced against a wine merely from smelling it quickly, walking up the stairs to the computer?

Simply put, this smelled like some kind of fruity New World red, with some kind of yeast with a flashy brand name – FermentXtreme™ or what have you. It smelled like UC Davis checked into the Motel Quickie in Roseworthy, SA and snogged its way to a Parker 90+. It smelled like something the wine waiter sells to folks who don’t like wine but who want to look sophisticated when they’re dining at the Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse in Toorak. I dunno. It just smelled kind of lame.

That was twenty minutes ago, and it’s finally shaping up a bit with some air. Now it smells of lovely oak, Rainier cherry and allspice. Kind of a cocoa, bay leaf, eucalyptus mint, white pepper sort of thing. It’s lovely but it still seems to be missing some sense of place.

The way it actually tastes, though, is the surprise here. It smells overlarge, Partonesque, but surprises you; it’s lithe, sleek. It doesn’t taste at all like it smells; it’s more of a blackcurrant flavor I’m getting here, and the tannins seem to be out for lunch. Coming back to it again, it is decidedly New World, but there’s this twinge of cassia there that’s unusual and attractive; it finishes quietly, wandering off to the back of the spice rack where the things your Czech grandmother brought to Christmas dinner back in the late nineties still moulder behind labels you can’t understand. Basically, the trick here is that you’ve got a wine that meets the high-octane, Parker fruit bomb mold – judging by the way it looks and smells – but it tastes far more interesting than most of those. I’m pleasantly surprised by this and would gladly drink it again.

Tir na N’ogP
rice: US $25
Closure: Diam
Date tasted: September 2008

Tyrrell's Vat 5 NVC Shiraz 2003

This label seemed to disappear from the Tyrrell’s portfolio after the 2004 vintage. I recall reading something about damage to the NVC vineyard, but the details escape me. In any case, I have enjoyed it on numerous occasions, and the vineyard seems to impart an earthiness that’s quite regional and perhaps even more prominent than in some other Hunter wines.

A forthright, savoury nose of wet earth, cooked meat, an iodine-like note and concentrated, slightly stressed fruit. It’s deep and dark, and bulkier than many of its regional siblings. In the mouth, intriguing despite dimensions that extend towards clumsiness. Savoury berry fruits flood the mouth on entry, and are joined on the mid-palate by assertive minerality and an equally assertive, astringent mouthfeel. Despite the benefit of a few years in bottle, this wine is still vibrantly primary, with rustic acidity and chunky tannins key to its current balance. The after palate and finish are puckeringly dry.

To be critical, the fruit is slightly dead tasting, and the overall impression is one of heft rather than elegance. Still, it’s a clear view into vintage conditions and perhaps all the more interesting for it. In fact, if you ever find yourself facing a bottle of the 2003 and 2004 NVC Shiraz, they provide a great insight into how vintage conditions can influence a wine’s character. Personally, I loved the 2004 wine. Not a renowned red wine vintage in the Hunter by any means, 2004 nevertheless gave birth to a light, funky, elegant NVC Shiraz. I wish I had more bottles of it.

Tyrrell’s
Price: $A30
Closure: Cork
Date tasted: September 2008

Lake's Folly Cabernets 2006

In amongst Max Lake’s considerable oeuvre is a slim volume of memoirs, richly recounted and highly enjoyable. It colours my view of the Lake’s Folly wines. It’s tempting to view wine solely in terms of what’s in the bottle but, perhaps inevitably, knowing something about its maker, the vineyard from which it came, regional history, and so on, makes for a more complete experience. The difference between wine evaluation and wine appreciation, perhaps. In any case, Max Lake’s memoirs are a nice view into what he originally set out to do with this label, and where it sits in the grand scheme of Australian wine.

A striking, pungent nose showing tobacco leaf, raw spice, fragrant cabernet fruit, sweet earth and a whole lot else besides. It’s really quite complex and distinctive — no doubt too distinctive for some tastes. Certainly not one for Cabernet purists. Very flavoursome entry that starts cool and savoury, but quickly reveals a wider range of flavours. There is a core of moderately sweet dark fruit around which revolve a number of high toned notes: some vegetal, some earthy, some oak-derived. As with the nose, complexity of flavour is a standout. The wine is medium bodied and full of interesting textures, from detailed acidity to ripe tannins that seem to land on the tongue in silty globs. The latter become a gorgeous influence on the after palate, and help flavour to persist with good intensity through a decent finish. It’s young but very well balanced and extremely drinkable now.

This is quite a funky number and, looking back over my impressions of the 2005 Cabernet, perhaps more immediately accessible than its predecessor. I probably prefer the 2005 but this is a lovely wine, full of personality.

Lake’s Folly
Price: $A50
Closure: Cork
Date tasted: September 2008

Tyrrell's Single Vineyard Old Patch 1867 Shiraz 2007

The renowned GW called my attention to the trophy recently awarded to this wine at the 2008 Hunter Valley Wine Show. Congratulations, Tyrrell’s. What better excuse to taste it now?

A deep, dark purple hue, dense and inky. I really didn’t get anything from this wine for the first hour or so. It’s so tight. I must admit, I shook the bottle up before pouring my second glass and, after some further mistreatment in the glass, I’m smelling a range of aromas. First, black pepper and spice, then blackberry, clean and deep. A bit of sappy oak, then aniseed and ripe brambles round things out. It ends up being quite distinctive and characterful, but it’s not a wine that reaches out to you. Not right now, anyway.

The palate shows an interesting mix of elements, all tied to a core of assertive but integrated acid. Despite its primacy, somehow the acid feels unforced and already it sits within the overall context of the wine, rather than apart from it. But back to the entry, which is dark and alive with tart, clean blackberry flavour. Things open up as the wine moves confidently through a medium bodied mid palate, and it gathers quite remarkable intensity of flavour along the way. There’s some fruit sweetness and savoury spice, all of which is currently subservient to acid. I love the way it widens in the mouth, creating an impressive sense of scale without any hint of heaviness or excess. In fact, the whole wine strikes me as architectural in the precision of its form. The finish lingers well, although it lacks a sense of weight that, I imagine, will come as the acid softens.

This is a very clean, characterful wine, and its quality is undeniable. It’s also an infant. I suspect it needs a few years, if not decades, to blossom and reveal the full spectrum of its personality. It is completely different in style from the 4 Acres, being a much darker, more brooding wine, less exuberantly fragrant and expressive.

Irrespective of whether you like this wine, it’s nice to be given the opportunity to taste the fruits of remarkable vineyards (or sections therein) that would otherwise disappear into larger production labels. Viewed from this perspective, the Old Patch and 4 Acres wines are an instant lesson in Hunter Valley Shiraz, its common character but also the range of styles that exist within its ranks. Perhaps the outmoded “Burgundy” nomenclature was appropriate in ways we’re only now beginning to see.

Tyrrell’s
Price: $A35
Closure: Stelvin
Date tasted: August 2008

Tyrrell's 4 Acres Shiraz 2007

This label seems to have gathered quite a following over its short life. I count myself amongst its fans. Ever since Gary Walsh created a stir with his review on Winorama, I’ve been particularly excited to taste the 2007 vintage.

The most lovely purple-red hue, deep and moderately dense. To smell, it’s very “4 Acres” but in an altogether deeper register. The characteristically pretty red and blue fruit is there yet, compared to previous vintages, it  demonstrates greater, quite extraordinary extension into the bass octaves. With only minimal swirling, an array of other aromas; earth, minerals, purple flowers, the slightest hint of gum leaf; emerge to create significant complexity. There’s also a slightly funky, barnyard dimension that strikes me as essentially regional, though very much secondary. I’ve been smelling this for a good half hour now and remain fascinated by each twist and turn the wine takes.

To the palate, then. So much goes on here, and it’s so attractive, I find it hard to respond analytically. But I’ll try. First, the acid. Structurally, this wine is driven by acid rather than tannin, so the acid’s quality is both critical and highly exposed. The attack is not overwhelming in this regard; instead, acidity builds linearly over the tongue, like a wedge that opens up from front to back of the mouth. It’s finely textured, three dimensional, and would be enough on its own to make a lesser wine worthwhile.

But it’s not on its own here. Flavours that precisely echo the nose run in and around the acidity, winding their way across the palate. The 4 Acres is always intense and finely etched but, as with the nose, there’s a density and depth here that goes beyond my previous experience of this wine. Body is also up on previous vintages. When you add acid to the mix, the effect is not unlike the richest textured velvet caressing one’s tongue. Silt-like, ripe tannins make a contribution to this texture. There’s a climax of acidity on the after palate, and then it all relaxes into a shapely finish that goes on for some time. Sensuous, complex and delicious.

If I were to highlight one quality this wine possesses above all others, it would be an immaculate line. From initial smell to lingering finish, there’s a sense of wholeness and integrity here that unifies each individual component and delivers a wine that, in the end, has its own philosophy. Whether you enjoy it as much as I do will, I suspect, hinge on whether you can relate to its point of view. It had me enthralled.

Tyrrell’s
Price: $A35
Closure: Stelvin
Date tasted: August 2008