Results tagged “Clare Valley”

Grosset Gaia 2001

Exotic and yet strangely familiar, this wine smells of California mission figs, damp soil in a shady redwood forest, freshly-baked German plum torte, the singing acidity of just-cleaved fruit, freshly baked brownies cooling in a suburban kitchen window, and cassis. It's so wonderfully complex that honestly? I could probably sit here smelling it for half an hour; it's as elaborate and fluid as a Guerlain perfume.

Texturally, it's fascinating, simultaneously hard and porous, with an initial impression of hard, ripe tannin quickly changing to a soft, slippery, sensual decay of just-melted chocolate. Beyond the texture, though, is still-present, still-youthful black cherry fruit, cheerfully slipping into warmer cigar box and cedar notes, finishing softly into a long, slow dissolve into dried herbs and dark bread baked in a wood-fired oven.

Ironically, it's the sweetness here that marks this wine as distinctly what it is. If that weren't here, it would remind me of a Loire red, given its firm tannin and wonderfully complex notes of cherry, mineral, and herbs. However, it's that beautiful, pure Australian fruit that elevates it beyond the merely really f***ing good and into the phenomenal. There aren't many wines that can convincingly walk the line between Old World and New; just as Ridge Monte Bello does, this wine is simultaneously everything good about the Old and the New.

I would imagine there's another five or ten years' life left here; simultaneously, I can't imagine this being any better than it is right now.

Grosset
Price: $27
Closure: Cork
Source: Retail
Some wines make you work, taking their time to emerge and show true character. Other wines reach out to you with an aroma that sings with freshness and vitality, like a chatty first date with whom you just know you'll get along. Like that first date, appearances can be deceptive in the long term, but there's no denying the enjoyment to be had in first conversations. To be sure, I tasted this over two days.

This wine has the most attractive fruit note immediately on pouring; it's all blackberries and plums, rather liquerous in expression yet redolent of freshness at the same time. Some aniseed and mocha complexities sit in the background at first, very much secondary to the juicy fruit. This does rebalance quite quickly, and the hedonist in me was almost slightly disappointed to observe various notes come into better balance after some lazy swirling. 

The palate is a surprise, in that it's quite restrained. Entry is quiet, showing some grainy texture and a savoury, mineral note. The middle palate brings Summer berries back into the mix, along with oak that is part bubble gum and part milk coffee. It's medium bodied and quite savoury, with brisk movement through the mouth. Tannins were quite prominent at first but have settled into a better place, still abundant but not so forbidding. To be critical, this lacks some drive and punch in the mouth, and I'd like to see an ounce more presence to match the headiness of the nose. Pretty delicious all the same.

Atlas Wines
Price: $A35
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample
Interesting going back to a wine two years or so later on in its evolution; I last drank this in November 2007, and here we are again. This time around, the nose offers up a very spare emptiness, almost the idea of wine without characteristics. It's an oddly Zen effect: a wine that is so quiet that concentrating on it leaves me very quiet indeed. There are notes of refrigerated butter, dried leaves, and wax paper on the nose; in the mouth, it's surprisingly rich and full-bodied, with the expected shocking acidity having very much subsided over the last eight years or so in the bottle. On the finish, you get a 3D suggestion of Meyer lemon tart, all lemon rind and fresh pastry, before it slowly fades out.

Again, absolutely lovely stuff here, and it doesn't seem to have changed much over the last two years... and that's a good thing because I think I still have a few more bottles. If all of the Australian rieslings I bought six years ago last this long under Stelvin, I'll be very happy indeed as there's no way I can drink most of them before they're a quarter-century old.

clos Clare
Price: US $14
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Retail
A single vineyard wine from the Watervale sub-region of the Clare Valley. And a really true example of this style of Riesling too, very much in a drink now idiom but recognisably regional all the same. 

The nose shows swirly, shabby chic aromas of old lace, freshly squeezed lemon juice and ripe white flowers. There's also a hint of talcum powder verging on minerality, which adds a nice lilt to the aroma profile. Taken as a whole, the nose is both relatively complex and totally accessible, signalling a wine made for easy, but not braindead, enjoyment.

On entry, acid is restrained in volume yet robust in texture, overlaid with lemon juice notes that are less intrusively sour than some. This combination carries linearly through to a mid-palate that widens only marginally, holding its tight, clear line. Intensity of fruit is moderate, which suits the style, and it's here that a range of flavour complexities emerge. Pebbles and crusher dust sit in the minerality camp, while the fruit turns towards a lemon rind-like astringency. Texture is even and a little gravelly through the after palate, and the finish is long, tapering elegantly away to nothing.

A solid wine, then, with plenty of character and made in a style that's very approachable right now. Not a bad Friday night choice.

Kirrihill
Price: $A19.95
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample
Sometimes I have trouble getting into this wine but no such problems tonight. It's a cracker.

Intense, racy bath salt-like aromas overlay a good deal of floral, mineral notes and some fine citrus rind. It's incredibly complex for a young Riesling which, like other simply made white styles, can seem simple in youth. Not this one, though; it exudes sophistication and confidence, not through volume or excess, but simply by being classically well-built from tip to toe. I'm sniffing this wine again and again and there's more to extract each time.

The palate is, if anything, even more impressive, as it adds great thrust and length to the nose's proportioned, complex aroma profile. It's a curious thing -- intensity that sings with minerality rather than fruit flavour -- I love it. The entry is immediate thanks mostly to some pretty assertive acidity, and it all builds from here to a middle palate of great shape and flinty texture. There's an edge of sweetness that softens the relatively austere flavour profile, and this smidge of soft focus makes this Polish Hill more approachable than some others I have tried. Swift movement through the after palate to a reverberant finish of snazzy length. 

Many critics tend to rate the Polish Hill above the Watervale, and in this instance I'd have to agree. What a great Riesling.

Grosset
Price: $A39
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Retail
Née Watervale. 

Amongst the many things for which I enjoy Riesling, one of the recurring highlights of a particularly good one is the directness with which it communicates its quality. Personally, I find quality one of the less tangible aspects of wine, intersecting (and at times contradicting) other considerations like drinkability and style. Somehow, though, I find with Riesling that an increase in quality tends to align with an increase in my enjoyment, and I think part of it is the somewhat facile satisfaction I obtain from being able to clearly grasp what makes a good Riesling so good. At least, I flatter myself this ability. 

Take this Grosset wine, which is bloody good. It's complex, and as I sniff the wine and take in this complexity, I remind myself that's all there is. No oak, apparently straightforward winemaking; it's just fruit character shining forth. This is a case, surely, of minimalist winemaking enhancing terroir (not, I believe, something to be regarded as a truism, but that's another post for another time). Though less exhuberant than the 2008 vintage, there's an obvious family resemblance, with a range of high toned notes overlaying deeper, almost tropical fruits and detailed citrus aromas. Great balance, interest and style. 

The palate shows the youthful impact for which this label is known, placing relatively full, rich fruit in a framework of textured, slatey acidity and etched complexity. The entry is like a wedge; it starts from nothing and works its way confidently to a bright middle palate filled with flavour, beautiful texture and the kind of drape normally reserved for high end couture. It's the facted angularity of its architecture as much as any other, more prosaic dimension that satisfies me here. And, to be hyper-critical, the intellectualism associated with this style might get in the way of purely sensual appreciation. I tend to think, though, that bottle age might cure any such faults, if one were to find them distracting. Personally, I love that it drags me to a higher level of appreciation as a taster. If only more wines held drinkers in such high regard.

Grosset
Price: $A31
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Retail
First off, thank you Julian for passing along this bottle. Once I got past the crumbling, decrepit cork and strained out all of the nasty bits, I was left with a fairly young, Port-like looking wine, which was a bit of a surprise. Yay! It's not dead yet! Heck, it's not even all that brown or watery at the rim just yet, which is very much a surprise after all these years.

Jammy, stewed prunes blanket the glass; soft, warm smells of cedar boxes and patent medicines complement it well. It all smells like something you'd find at a bake sale in rural England, suggesting sweet spices from the Empire juxtaposed against fine local dairy products, the buttery esters bumping up against clove and ginger.

The line of the wine seems a bit confused at this point, starting off mostly just acidic, but it recedes quickly to reveal a very soft, slightly sweet, definitely relatively old wine that offers up fairly simple blackcurrant and cassis notes at first, supported somewhat on the finish by tannins that seem pretty much entirely resolved at this point. It all finishes in a very gentle, smooth glide towards something like a blackcurrant jam and maple syrup tart; there's still enough tannic backbone to make it come across as 'serious', though, if that sort of thing is important to you.

All in all, it seems to me that this wine is just about ready to head for the door for all time, though, so drink 'em if you've got 'em. If you're a fan of mature cabernet, this comes pretty close to good, although I would have liked a bit more oak influence here, a bit more spine.

Leasingham
Price: $NA
Closure: Cork
The final of three Cardinham Estate reds recently tasted. I've been impressed with the honesty and straighforwardness of these wines, and feel they are well-priced for what are true regional styles (the Sangiovese excepted, if only because I'm not sure what Clare Sangiovese "should" taste like). Clare Cabernet can be quite rustic, with full-throttle warmer fruit flavours and powerful oak. This wine is very much in the mainstream of the style, with a sense of drinkability that is quite convincing.

An expressive nose of slightly stewed plums, spice, sweet oak and twiggy vegetal notes. The elements are well balanced between each other and, although it's not an elegant aroma profile by any means, it's clean, full and generous and, if you like the style, most appealing. The palate is true to the nose's overall impression, being both full-flavoured and quite chunky. Gobs of fruit and oak flavour coat the tongue at first, and it's only towards the after palate that a slinky, sophisticated mouthfeel asserts itself, a little unexpected, perhaps, and a pleasant surprise. Some tannins, loose-knit and sweet, add texture and grip. A good long finish of bubblegum oak and plum skins. 

I crave wines like this on certain nights after work when all I want is a flavoursome, robust red to accompany a steak meal. It's a Cabernet to warm the heart rather than challenge the mind.

Cardinham Estate
Price: $A20
Closure: Stelvin
Refreshingly, the back label doesn't lie; it reads straightforwardly: "Everything about this wine seems to be built around dark chocolate and black cherries." And so it is. Which may not sound very Sangiovese-like, but let's proceed with an open mind to the wine itself.

On the nose, there's... oo, chocolate, of the quality sort, edging towards cocoa powder. Some almonds perhaps, cherries too, and an impression of gustatory delight I usually get when selecting what to buy at the bakery. It's funny; some wines remind me of eating, and this is one of them. There's nothing especially complex about the aroma, it just smells good, in the way a freshly made chocolate muffin smells good. 

In the mouth, surprisingly light and nimble. The flavour profile continues to revolve around key notes of cocoa, red fruits and almonds. On first sip, I felt a bit let down as there's a lack of thrust through the entry and middle palate. After adjusting to the style, though, I started to appreciate it more. It's what I call a "watercolour" wine; one that can seem delicate to the point of transparency, but which nonetheless carries an entire picture within its frame. Mouthfeel is quite interesting, in that it's very supple and finely textured too, especially towards the after palate, where ultra-fine tannins settle gently on the tongue. Surprising power and persistence on the finish, with sweet cherries and almonds riding a flavoursome wave. I wonder if the alcohol is slightly too high for the style; in absolute terms, 14.2% abv isn't groundbreaking, but there does seem some heat on the palate, and I suspect aspects of the mouthfeel are similarly pumped up.

This isn't at all what I expected, but I am enjoying it, and it seems to me a "real life" wine, made for drinking on a weeknight with one's favourite pasta dish. Drink now for maximum pleasure.

Cardinham Estate
Price: $A20
Closure: Stelvin
I have a soft spot for Clare Shiraz and this is good example of the genre, in an easygoing and very much fruit-driven mode. In terms of provenance and winemaking, this comes from 100% Estate grapes and is aged in older American oak for eighteen months. 

A dark, brambly nose that shows juicy blackberries, sambuca and a bit of sweet vanilla. There's a sense of straightforwardness to the aroma profile that suggests easy satisfaction; it doesn't play hard to get. Very much a similar story on the palate, with plenty of juicy dark berry fruits and enough oak to frame the fruit flavours appropriately. Entry is fairly slow to get started, though by the time the middle palate arrives there's an abundance of generous fruit and edges of spicy anise. Very well judged tannins begin to flow at this point, quite loose-knit and ripe. The after palate shows a lighter fruit character, verging on red berries, before a coffee and liqueur finish of some deliciousness.

Nice wine, this one. It combines the spirit of a quaffer with the flavour profile of something considerably more distinctive and regional. 

Cardinham Estate
Price: $A20
Closure: Stelvin
If memory serves correctly, this is the fourth bottle of this wine I've drunk. The first I enjoyed in Perth in September 2002; the second a few years ago in Seattle, the third in March of 2008, and now it's time to revisit it again. Julian had a bottle last July; I wrote about it last March, and here we are again.

Impossibly light, this wine reminds me of goose fat, smoking autumn leaves, rose petals that have lost their sweetness, tarragon, and hay. What fruit there is stone: peach and apricot, slightly dried.

A sip of this is revelation: it's rich, thick, full, wonderfully situated in the mouth. A swallow thins it all out, leaving gentle talc, an amazingly length finish of minerals and pale honeys, full acidity that leaves your mouth watering for more, more, more. The closest wine this comes to (for me, at any rate) is vintage Champagne; there's almost the same order of toastiness here which I find surprising and entrancing. This wine has moved emphatically beyond the lime-soaked babe I remember from 2002 and into an entirely other world: this is dead serious and tastes like it should have cost the earth, which it thankfully didn't.

There's no sweetness here to speak of but is there light? Yes, abundantly so.

[Postscript: I didn't read Julian's note until after writing this one - and yes, Julian, I don't detect any petrol here at all. I'm not sure what I was thinking when I wrote that earlier note last year - I suppose I was just being lazy in describing the wine, going not with what I actually perceived but instead cribbing from the default Aged Aussie Riesling note. My apologies.]

Grosset
Price: $26
Closure: Cork
For me, the worst thing about being a wino is probably the dilemma of choosing something to drink while you're on your own. My partner should've been here for dinner tonight, but United Airlines declared his plane broken - something to do with the electrics - so he's stuck in Chicago for the night leaving me with a simple question: what to drink with some leftover pork tenderloin, green beans, shallots, and mushrooms?

This wine seems to do the trick just nicely: it's not so expensive that I feel bad for not sharing - and more importantly, it worked wonders with the savory accidental broth left behind from the food. Thank you, Waitrose, for your lemon myrtle whatever; it really made the sauce.

Even seven years past harvest the wine seems Barney purple, exuberant and fruity. The nose is classic Aussie shiraz, rich fruitcake, more cleavage than is proper, overripe plums stewed with cloves. There's just a hint of something medicinal there, too - almost Russian aftershave that is never worn, simply drunk, with suggestions of woodland herbs used to make it all taste a little bit less like alcoholic poverty.

I digress: this really is lovely and very much itself. I'm glad no one is asking me if this is like a Côte-Rôtie or a Hermitage or some other Old World wine: this is living proof that we're doing just fine on our own in the New World, thank you. Yes, I suspect there's a praiseworthy assist from a French fôret somewhere, but that's certainly allowed, isn't it?

Wonderfully full and chunky in the mouth - I am somehow reminded of Wynona Judd here - the fruit still doesn't seem perfectly integrated with the oak; of course, it doesn't really matter. The impression to me is of visting a natural history museum: drinking this wine is like examining the rings of a California redwood or looking at geologic strata deposited over time. The line, such as it is, is parallel: fine, gentle, nervy acidity at the top; rich damson fruit with a hint of bottle age in the middle; at the bottom, fully resolved tannins grounded in dark loam. As wines go, this one is polychordal: it's a neat trick and one the winemakers really should be immensely proud of. It's a delight to drink, especially with the pork and beans.

Leasingham
Price: $15
Closure: Cork
We bought this bottle on holiday at the winery back in October 2002; it was one of the few bottles that wasn't stolen when our car was broken into in Melbourne a few weeks later. It's survived two moves - to Washington and back to California - and here it is on a warm Spring afternoon in San Diego. It's survived and then some.

Still somewhat youthfully purple in color with only the faintest hints of aging, the nose is still redolent of warm, dark berries, rich, smooth cedar, and just-cooled vanilla custard. It's all blackberry jam and custard, served in a Haida bent cedar box (or it could be a Japanese hinoki sake cup, I'm not entirely sure about that).

The initial impression is surprise that it hasn't aged, but then it moves fairly quickly towards a somewhat tannic, disjointed, acidic finish. Hm, strange. Let's try this again, shall we? The second time around is a winner, with brightly tart cherry fruit straining - and succeeding, to a point - to make itself heard about the maelstrom of decay that's the base of the wine. The impression is nearly that of a lavender licorice Sweet Tart; it is at fairly complex and mostly still hanging in there just fine, thank you. However, there's a certain puckery assault on the gums that happens that I'm not a fan of, and the finish is more something I'd expect at a Tijuana dentist's than a leather-upholstered steakhouse.

So: was this wine better when we bought it? Perhaps, but I'm not convinced. Some of the haptics of this wine (if I'm even allowed to use that word!) are disconcerting and unwelcome, but there's still enough beauty and pleasure here to save it for me. On some level, though, I probably shouldn't have waited quite so long, dang it.

Update: After sitting with this wine for another half an hour, I'm thinking that the problem isn't age, but cork taint. With some air, it seems more likely that there's low level TCA contamination here which is causing problems - and that's a real shame, because I'd guess that a good bottle of this wine would be a wonderful thing indeed 11 years on. Oh well. :(

Knappstein
Price: $NA
Closure: Cork
Unbelievably, it's taken me two years to realize that so-called sunny California isn't always. Sure, there were those few 90 degree days in January, but then bupkus until last weekend, so that huge stash of Aussie riesling malingering in my cellar hasn't dwindled at all. Thankfully, it's warming up in the evenings - finally - and now it's time to get a move on.

Thanks, Julian, for this wine; this is the bottle that survived the flight back to Seattle after visiting you in Adelaide and Sydney a few years back. It's survived well, having colormorphosed into a watery Benedictine of sorts, very much a color I'd associated with cheap, flabby California chardonnay. Of course this isn't that: one sniff and holy cow, I don't think you could possibly mistake this for a North American wine. It smells of children's paste, strangely enough, but only faintly; it's more of a curious mix that calls up bitter orange, neroli, lemon, bergamot, lavender: all of those things you'd associate with a traditional men's cologne. There's also the faintest trace of oxidation here, far from unpleasant, and not so much of the stereotypical diesel or kero you'd expect with something this old. The closest comparison I can think of is with Scottish heather honey that's being produced near a peat-burning Scotch distillery; it's sweet, floral, a little bit smoky.

All over the place in the mouth, it's hard to pin down the taste or sense of this wine. Moments after swalloing, I'm reminded of artificially flavored fruit gums, so let me back up a moment. It begins in a somewhat austere fashion, all minerals, straw, and wet stone; then, it reveals a fairly full mid-palate, not so much in body but in fruit, of which there's still quite a bit a decade on. Acidity is very much kept in check - this won't frighten Grandma - and there's a lingering sense of sweetness that's a lovely counterbalance to all of the aged bottle character this wine displays. That kero note does appear, but briefly, and it all finishes on a fairly smooth, fruity, and yet doggedly dry note that seems much less artificial after the first few sips. If anything, it reminds me of quince paste and jasmine flowers.

Phenomenal stuff, in short, and far from dead yet. I wonder how long this thing is going to last? This is only bottle of the '99, but there's a near-case of the 2002 yet to be drunk...

Petaluma
Price: $NA
Closure: Cork
I was hoping for a robust, rustic Clare Valley red in the traditional mould, but what I've got in front of me is something quite different. There's no shortage of flavour here. On the nose, a complex mix of eucalyptus, dark fruit, slightly sauvage vegetal notes and black pepper. It takes some teasing apart, and on first sniff I comprehensively failed to understand its nuances. I'm not sure whether I actually like the aroma profile, but there's no denying its interest and complexity. 

In the mouth, a curiously contradictory mix of a seductively supple mouthfeel and a flavour profile that echoes the angularity of the aroma. Lots of flavour quite early on entry, and this continues through to the middle palate, where a blend of funky vegetal flavours mingles with dark fruit and a hint of sweet vanilla oak. This isn't an easy wine by any means. It never rises above medium bodied and this weight, combined with a savoury flavour profile, means it remains a focused experience. Tannins start to creep in through the after palate and these are a welcome textural influence. The finish is fruit sweet but a bit echoey too, lacking the drive I'd ideally like.

Not sure what to make of this one. It's savoury, odd, textural, complex, characterful and provocative. One to drink and debate. 

Annie's Lane
Price: $A40
Closure: Stelvin
I've got a soft spot for Taylors, as much for the good value of its standard range as for the fact that I enjoyed many a good evening out on its wines before I became interested in what I drink, as opposed to being simply interested in drinking. St Andrews is Taylors' premium label, a range I don't have much experience with beyond the Riesling. I do enjoy a nice Clare red, though, so here goes with the St Andrews Cabernet Sauvignon from 2004.

If ever one wanted to illustrate the joys of New World winemaking, this would be a good wine to showcase. It's just so correct and clean. A blast of pure, slightly sweet Cabernet fruit is the most prominent aroma, accompanied by varietal dust, regional eucalypt and umami galore (roast beef and gravy). Totally coherent and convincing, and not the least bit funky. 

The palate is a precise, joyous replay of the nose. On entry, the wine is slightly aggressive and prickly, which is a function of its meaty flavour profile as much as a structure that is generous with the acid (though in balance). By the time the middle palate arrives, the flavour has hit its stride and is all about generous, clean blackcurrant fruit. It's so pure and intense it verges on DMS-like, but never becomes quite that obvious. Continuing the journey, eucalyptus and cedar emerge as key notes through the after palate, which may bother some people. If I were to be hyper critical, flavour intensity dips a little here. Compensation, however, arrives in the form of prominent, well-textured, almost-rustic tannins that dry the tongue and provide drive through the satisfying finish. 

I'm really enjoying the generosity, structure and straightforwardness of this wine. One of the least pretentious "premiums" I've had the pleasure of tasting. Drink with a big rump steak (as I'm just about to do).

Taylors
Price: $A70
Closure: Stelvin

Grosset Gaia 2001

I suppose we all come to a point in our drinking lives when we open yet another bottle of yet another respectable, well-regarded wine and shrug, jaded, resigning ourselves to yet another evening of predictable pleasure. What is to be done? Well, for starters, we train ourselves to pay more attention, to reach back into memory to remember why we're here in the first place, what that first bottle was like, the time when the wine was the focus of everything, not the alcohol that washes away the cares of the day, not the hastily prepared food that serves as a haphazard coda to the day's endeavors.

So! This wine is getting on in years, its bouquet shot through with violets and summer strawberries and cream, edged with darker leather and tobacco. It's as if someone spilled cassis liqueur in tobacconists with a significant overstock of paperback novels; it's eating ice cream at a wake, it's watching the London winter rage outside from within a greenhouse at Kew.

Vibrant, acidic, with tannins that surprise quickly before fading entirely from view, I find the wine to be distinctly peppery and just a little bit simple; it's much more an Old World model in terms of body, opting for nerve instead of plushness. Still, there's a certain creaminess, languidly unfolding, that trails off into a finish that reminds me of unsmoked cigars you never knew your Dad smoked, but that you found poking around the basement as a child. All in all, this wine tastes like something unexpectedly retreived from memories you aren't sure are yours to begin with, like a memory of wine drinkers past. It's good.

Grosset
Price: $28
Closure: Cork
In a nice nod to sub-regionality, the back label identifies this wine's fruit as having been sourced from Armagh and Polish Hill River. Work was a slog today, so much so that I just had to swing by the local Dan's Choice and pick up a bottle of something I haven't tried before. Usually, my wine purchases are a lot more deliberate. The obsessive side of my personality, if I can be so euphemistic as to call my defining characteristic a "side," usually demands my choice of beverage be the result of some consideration. But I just grabbed this at the shop without much thought. And here we are.

I guess I should rely on chance more often. This is a really honest wine, well-made and flavoursome. Swirly, rather high toned aromas of spice and mint encircle dust and moderately well-defined Cabernet fruit. We're a long way from Coonawarra or Bordeaux with this wine, but that's alright because it's a comfortable, even slightly plush place. The aroma profile seems warmer, somehow, cuddlier than more restrained Cabernet styles, even as it challenges with a bit of savoury tar, cooked meat and slightly sharp oak. 

Nice slippery entry, cool and composed as it lodges a wedge into the mouth, only to subtly pry it open. Indeed, it's not a wine of enormous impact. Not because there isn't good intensity (there is) or adequate structure (acid and tannin are quite prominent), rather there's such balance and harmony, it just feels right in the mouth, no one area sticking out and demanding attention. Pretty focused through the middle palate, this wine narrows through the back of the mouth, tannins closing in on a gradually diminishing volume of clean berry flavour until a finish of vanilla oak, tannins and leafiness slowly descends on this elegantly dimmed stage. A little harshness here detracts, the wine becoming too thin too quickly to sustain satisfaction along its entire line.

This wine is brilliantly drinkable and quite magnetic in its unassuming way. 

O'Leary Walker
Price: $A20
Closure: Stelvin
This, along with its Springvale sibling, is a lesson in terroir, Australian-style. There's never any mistaking one wine for the other, with the Polish Hill often considered a more appropriate ageing style (and, perhaps by implication, the "better" wine). 

Very pretty talc-like aromas that circle atop layers of minerality and lemongrass. Unlike the Springvale, this isn't a full-on lime juice style. Instead, the emphasis is on high toned complexity. Having said that, it's not as shy as some young Polish Hills I've tried, so there's no struggle to extract aroma here. But it's intellectual, this one, less easily read.

Interestingly, the palate reflects this evasiveness in its flow and structure. Not that there's a lack of flavour; quite the opposite, in fact, the wine showing good intensity of flavour. Rather, the combination of detailed flavour profile and firm structure translates to a challenging experience in the mouth. Acid tingles the tongue immediately on entry, and carries a crescendo of flavour to the middle palate. Notes here echo the aroma, with lemongrass, passionfruit pith and a generally delicious sourness all socialising well. Great balance and complexity, especially for a young Riesling. Some may find the acid a little firm, but it's a very fine acidity and personally I love its crisp line. There's a little dip in intensity on the after palate, but the wine surges again through the long finish.

Fabulous Riesling, then, and one that would seem to have its best years ahead of it. Whether it's a better wine than the Springvale is very much a matter of taste (and perhaps mood). It shows greater complexity and is a more angular wine, and I suspect may never be a completely sensuous style even with the luxury of bottle age. A wine to make you think.

Update: on the second night, complexity has notched up even further, with a range of musk and Turkish Delight flavours joining in the fun. There's just so much going on here for a young Riesling. Extremely impressive. 

Price: $A38
Closure: Stelvin
Date tasted: November 2008
There's a good vibe around 2008 Clare Rieslings. Indeed, the Grosset newsletter suggests this is the best Watervale since 2002, which is music to my ears. 

An aroma that initially reminded me of Sauvignon Blanc not so much for its profile as its impact and immediacy. A punch of lime and leafiness hits you each time you sniff this wine, and it's a great antidote to an army of insipid "classic dry whites" and Pinot Grigios invading our bistros. I can't imagine anyone not having a strong reaction to this based purely on the nose. More importantly, this is a really positive wine, one that wears its flamboyance on its sleeve. It's the Versace of Australian wine -- flashy, but immaculately tailored.

The palate's greatest feature is its intensity of flavour, which is frankly remarkable. It strikes early and builds almost instantly to a climax of lime juice and sherbet-like notes that wash through the mid-palate. There's so much impact that it takes a moment to realise the wine's structure is really quite restrained in the context of the style. There's acid, no doubt, but it's fine and supports the wine rather than overwhelming it. The flavour profile becomes more complex on the after palate, with some herbal notes introducing themselves. A gently tapered finish with just the slightest hint of fruit sweetness closes the wine well.

I'm a huge fan of our dry Riesling styles and this wine both justifies my taste and provides great sensual pleasure. It's a win-win. Brilliant value. 

Price: $A31
Closure: Stelvin
Date tasted: November 2008
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