Results tagged “Pinot Noir”

Because I'm a lazy man, I'm tempted to simply say this: This is the most Burgundian pinot noir I've ever drunk from Oregon.

This is the most Burgundian pinot noir I've ever drunk from Oregon.

To elaborate:

One, you'll want to chill this wine down to 60 degrees or so. It's not good at room temperature.

Two, you'll want to give this a lot of air before even thinking about drinking some. Straight out of the bottle, it's clumsy, chunky, and disappointing.

Three, the tannins are gentle, assertive, slight, dominant, stalky, ripe: in short, all over the map. They're in wonderful balance with the fruit and oak.

Four, the wine smells wonderful. Soft cedar shavings, forest floor, wild strawberries, allspice, plums, and barbecue: they're all here. This would be amazing with cedar plank salmon.

Five, the mouthfeel is similarly all over the map. Rich and mouthfilling? Sure, the vibrancy of the fruit suggests that, but it's secretly leaner, trimmer, acidic, racy, daring. This is not a wine for the timid, not a wine for the lazy, not a wine you can drink without thinking about it. Every mouthful is wondrously complex; a thousand experiences unfurl before you. Drinking this is like opening an atlas: suddenly, you're faced with - and overjoyed by - all of the possibilities open to you. The chalk cliffs of Dover, the quiet of the California redwood forest, the stark beauty of the Namib desert? It's all there if you want to go; it's all here if you want to taste. 

J.K. Carriere
Price: $24
Closure: Cork
Source: Retail
Recently, the very straightforward General Manager of Mornington Peninsula-based producer Ten Minutes by Tractor, Chris Hamilton, asked me to write some tasting notes for the winery's use. I mention this both by way of disclosure and to make a particular observation. When I talked with Chris about the brief, I assumed he wanted the typically concise, descriptive notes one often sees attached to wine marketing material. Instead, he asked me to write in the style of my notes on this site. 

When I write for Full Pour, my intent is far from commercial and so, I believe, are the resultant notes. So it fascinated me that a producer might want to commission similar material, complete with the extravagances of length and style in which I often indulge. 

It pleases me to note all the wines tasted were good. The single vineyard labels, however, stand out as the most authentic representation of what Ten Minutes by Tractor is doing. I tasted two Chardonnays (Wallis and McCutcheon) and three Pinot Noirs (Wallis, McCutcheon and Judd). All vineyards are in the Main Ridge sub-region of the Mornington Peninsula, just ten minutes away from each other as the tractor flies. The material provided to me included copious information about vineyard elevations, clones, viticulture and winemaking. The approach strikes me in general as somewhat obsessive, and in particular as striving towards an understanding of differences between wines wrought by specific variables between vineyards. This is the mad scientist approach to the aesthetics of wine, and I love it.

These notes are my own personal write-ups, different from those provided to the winery for is use.

Wallis Vineyard Chardonnay 2008



Instant cool climate Chardonnay with a fireside warmth twist. The aroma shows crushed rocks, lean oak, oatmeal and predominantly grapefruit-like citrus. It's quite savoury and austere in a way, but there's a glimmer of enticing warmth at its core, like a candle shining in the midst of a winter snowstorm. I think this flows from a real funkiness to the aroma, something slightly off-center and quirky, that adds humanity to what can sometimes be a rather robotic Chardonnay style. 

The palate trades on this tension between cool collectedness and a flavour profile that teases with its darting cuddliness. It's all fine and poised, with a pleasingly slippery mouthfeel and the sort of detail that rewards slow drinking. Overall, this is a really subtle wine, low-key and humble, but full of interest too. Quietly seductive.

McCutcheon Vineyard Chardonnay 2008 

Both different from and strikingly similar to the Wallis wine. This is altogether more powerful and direct, with an aroma full of thrust and parry, pure citrus fruit, spice and mealiness. Its power is well controlled, and if I were to characterise the aroma profile to set it apart from the Wallis, I'd say this is cooler, more chiselled, perhaps more detailed, certainly more masculine. Fascinating that viticulture and winemaking were essentially identical for both wines.

The entry shows a nice cut of minerality alongside more citrus and vanilla spice. There's a soothing caress of viscosity on the palate which balances out robust acidity and makes way for fruit flavours to express themselves. The after palate is full of pithy grapefruit and the finish shows really refreshing bitterness, in the most positive sense. I reckon this will get better over the medium term (5 years or so). 

McCutcheon Vineyard Pinot Noir 2008



One thing I noticed across all the single vineyard Pinots was their lack of colour density. The hues themselves are most attractive and fresh, but each wine is quite see-through, which I feel is one of the pleasures of this variety. I love how something so insubstantial-looking can be so powerful.

The nose here seems ideally balanced between varietal sour cherry and a catalogue of spices, damp earth and the sweetness of char siu. It's all quite seamless, moving through its modes with no bumpiness or pause. On entry, good intensity without heaviness. It's immediately complex, with seemingly all parts of the cherry (pulp, skin, pips) included in the lovely flavour profile. The middle palate introduces some sticky caramel before nicely textured acidity sweeps in to move one through the after palate. Grainy tannins adds to the mouthfeel and help with persistence through the finish. 

For drinking now, my favourite of the three single vineyard Pinots, thanks to its beautiful balance.

Wallis Vineyard Pinot Noir 2008 

If the McCutcheon is a dilettante, spreading itself across all its elements equally, the Wallis Vineyard Pinot is the specialist, diving deep into a particular expression of Pinot that is more mysterious and difficult to unravel.

The aroma's first impression is of thick impenetrability. There are layers of spiced wood, sour cherries, vanilla and undergrowth, all swirling to form a dense fabric of smells that is quite hard to tease apart. There's a lovely sappiness that arcs over the aroma too, which tends to unify the elements and provide some light. 

There's slightly more fruit emphasis in the mouth, though it remains a seriously dark expression of cherry. It's concentrated and savoury, no one aspect dominating yet with the whole existing in a subterranean place, compact and firm. Texture is wonderful, with plenty of tannins emerging on the middle palate and continuing down the line, and a subdued acid line running the whole length. There's a dip in intensity as the wine progresses down its line and this, combined with the tightly held flavour profile, suggests the Wallis more than the other two Pinots will benefit from bottle age. 

Judd Vineyard Pinot Noir 2008

This wine is tangibly different again from the Wallis and McCutcheon. One obvious difference from a viticultural perspective is this vineyard is planted to the 115 Pinot clone, as opposed to the others which carry MV6. 115 is known for its more straightforwardly fruity flavour profile, and this comes through into the finished wine. 

A deeply spiced aroma profile that is nonetheless dominated by heady, ripe cherries and fresh plum pulp. More in-your-face than the other two wines, this is openly seductive in character. It's all curves and femininity, quite voluptuous really.

The way it enters the mouth is wild: an initial pause followed by a dramatic enlargement of  scale that is quite surprising. After wedging your palate open, it supplies gobs of sweet fruit onto the tongue. The fruit character is very pretty, all maraschino cherries framed by attractive tartness. Some oak is present in support, and is well matched to the fruit. I just can't get over the physical aspects of this wine's feel in the mouth, though; this alone makes it worth experiencing, for its sensuality but also its sophistication. A very long finish.

Ten Minutes by Tractor
Price: $55-70
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample
After a drink of this and a long, slow exhale I turned to my partner and said "yeah, this has it all." A distinctly groovy blackish red, straight out of a 1960s steakhouse, the color itself is appealing enough to make me want to overfill my glass. Beautiful, really, and enough to telegraph the intentions of this pinot: rich enough and ripe enough to be New World, yet distinctly holding back before going off the Californian deep end, it suggests you're in for a best-of-both-worlds kind of experience - and you are.

Wonderfully complex on the nose, I'm having trouble keeping track of it all. Rich, ripe red fruit is seamlessly counterbalanced by politely serious French oak, but only just enough to support the fruit; this is not one of those oaked-to-death, overripe pinots that are all too easy to find here. The wine also smells incredibly youthful: at this point, I don't see any secondary aged characteristics, but I get the sense there's enough stuffing here to last at least a decade.

At first sip, the wine is shy, hesitant, refusing to offer much of anything up save for a brief, surprising wallop of acidity. That's quickly replaced by a wonderfully lush, silken, voluptuously textured ribbon of sensible red fruit with hints of roasted coffee, caramel, and violets. Not as dirty as Burgundy, the overarching effect is of a very smooth customer: however, what really sets this wine apart is the balance and elegance of an incredibly well crafted, peculiarly Oregonian experience. The finish does go on for quite some time, again subtly meandering between refreshing acidity, soft earth, and that wonderful, spicy red fruit peculiar to Oregon.

Look, I'll be honest here: if you wanted to try the best the USA has to offer, this is probably as good a pinot as you're going to find, full stop. Less tannic and earthy than Burgundy, fuller and richer than Otago, and perhaps most resembling Bass Philip pinot noir, this is for my money one of the best wines made in North America. Best of all, it's the kind of wine that doesn't take a lot of explanation to enjoy: pace Parker, this really is a hedonistic experience in the best sense of the word. My only complaint is that I only had the one bottle and that I won't get to try it again ten years from now.

J.K. Carriere
Price: $65
Closure: Cork
Source: Retail
Do you enjoy chocolate-covered cherries? You do? OK, how would you like chocolate covered cherries if they were wrapped in musty used teabags? You would? OK, well, how would you like them if you were eating them next to a barnyard? Oh, you still would? Well, would it be even better if you were eating them in acid rain generated by a nearby sulfur producing chemical plant? Oh, it would? Well then! I believe I've found just the wine for you. Enjoy!

In all seriousness, this wine is moderately good, but marred in my opinion by a deliberate stalkiness, excess sulfur dioxide, and a lack of any character other than simple cherry fruit with an anemic lashing of oak. It's not strange enough to be Burgundy and not fruity enough to be a New World pinot. If you were looking for something along these lines but which was actually, you know, delicious, then I wouldn't hesitate to recommend the Sherwood pinot noir from the south island of New Zealand: it's half the price and twice the fun.

Nicolas Potel
Price: $24
Closure: Cork
Source: Retail
The companion wine to the Sauvignon Blanc tasted earlier this week. I must be in a better mood tonight because I find myself more forgiving of what are similarly soft stylistic choices with this wine. Part of it is that I like Marlborough Pinot Noir, surely the daggiest red style produced in New Zealand. I enjoy its abundance, silky ease and accessibility; the opposite of brutish Central Otago wines and tiresomely stylish Martinborough ones. 

I like the colour; it's quite brilliant, with a low level of density yet showing flashes of precocious purple amongst its garnets and rubies. Those nose was a little harsh at first; with what appeared to be a bit of volatility and some sulfur perhaps; it's mostly blown off now, though. What's left are typically sour tamarillo fruit aromas, piercing and light. There's no depth or complexity at all, but it's pleasingly varietal and nimble. 

The palate is similarly dimensioned and shows the same varietal correctness as the nose. Entry is fruit-driven, with some sweet, squishy fruit atop what is an acid-driven structure. It's all a bit edgy and thin perhaps; I want more stuffing, but what's there is pretty and great to quaff. The middle palate shows a tad more generosity, seemingly sugar-derived, before a tart after palate introduces a smattering of grainy tannins. Not a bad finish, with some sappy complexities taking over right at the back of the mouth.

As with the white, this is a well-judged commercial wine that seems to be hitting the spot more effectively for me this evening. 

Braided River
Price: $A24.95
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample
It wasn't too long ago that Central Otago Pinot invariably came with an elevated price tag. One of the surprises, then, of our visit to the region a year or so ago was the range of reasonably priced wines on offer. Indeed, from an accessibility perspective the region seemed to have come of age, with plenty of wines available at all price points.

The sensation, then, this wine might have caused at $28 three or four years ago is considerably harder fought today. Its aroma is exceptionally promising, a smothery blanket of thoroughly regional smells, with sweet and sour plums, cinnamon, a light sappiness and some toasty caramel. If it's slightly blurry around the edges, and lacks a bit of depth, its volume and exuberance provide adequate compensation. 

The palate is more troublesome to me, as it pushes the boundaries of fruit sweetness. I've heard a criticism in the past that Central Otago Pinots have suffered from coarse acidification, a fault from which this wine doesn't suffer. Indeed, its mouthfeel is voluptuous and slippery, lacking a bit of texture for my taste, though it does present some grainy tannins through the finish. Intensity is moderate, and I'd like to see greater substance to fill out what is a substantial physical presence in the mouth. Flavour-wise, the impression is of pumped up, silicone-breast-implant fruit, along with a fresh sappiness and caramel chews. It's certainly not confected as a fruit profile; it's just, well, so pretty. Too pretty, like an overly airbrushed teen model who looks slightly unreal and, hence, rather unsatisfying (not to mention illegal; but I digress). Interesting, quite savoury finish that surges back up after a dip through the after palate.

It's a good wine, certainly, with plenty of flavour and real regionality. And I admit, it's no doubt very well judged for broad appeal. For me, though, a bit more savoury complexity would really lift it to the next level. 

Mud House
Price: $A28
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample
I tasted this inexpensive red Burgundy a few months ago at a dinner party, and remember enjoying it. Last night, I had the opportunity to taste it at leisure, so am able to provide more concrete impressions.

Nice, savoury expression of Pinot Noir. The nose shows dark aromas of sous-bois and only a hint of the beetroot-rhubarb fruit that can dominate some New World Pinot styles. There's perhaps a bit of rubbery reduction too, which blows off after some of air. As with a number of other wines I've tasted lately, I'm interested in the tension between sweet, seductive fruit and savouriness or even a degree of challenging funkiness. It seems an especially difficult thing to pull off successfully, but I like watching wines (and winemakers) try.

The palate seems quite resolved and approachable. It shows a similar balance of sweet and savoury to the nose, and is moderately intense. What I like most about it its sense of balance and easygoing drinkability, which it achieves without being at all simple. In fact, given its price and provenance, it's surprisingly sophisticated, with well integrated flavours and a finely textural mouthfeel that helps it to cut through food (ok, take-away pizza) one may not naturally pair with this kind of wine. 

A very drinkable, well-priced Pinot, ready now. Quite sophisticated too.

Domaine du Prieuré
Price: $A25
Closure: Cork
Source: Retail
I feel truly ungrateful. A few days ago, this bottle was purchased for the very reasonable sum of $A16.15 at my local Dan Murphy. In the scheme of things, that's not a lot to pay for a bottle of wine, let alone a bottle of Australian Pinot, a sub-species that, until recently, was difficult to obtain for under $A25 or so. And, to jump to the end, this is a very sound wine, tasty and clean, with confidently expressed varietal character. Hence a niggling sense of ungratefulness as I reflect that, as good as this is, there are others in its price range that may be even better. Truly, we are spoiled.

Give this a bit of time in the glass, and firm aromas of spice, plum and a little beetroot, plus some stalkiness perhaps, start wafting aloft. It's totally varietal and quite elegant, holding back an overt sense of fruitiness in order to express more subtle pleasures. There's a point to be made here about the chosen style and price point, and one shouldn't underestimate De Bortoli's obvious conviction to produce a stylish wine at a price point where many consumers might expect obvious delights. 

In the mouth, a textural pleasure with much more tannin than expected and fairly bright acidity too. Structurally, this means business. Flavour takes a little while to build on the tongue, and seems held in check for now by that rather imposing tannin/acid framework. Nonetheless, there's a clear sense of ripe, plummy fruit on the middle palate, along with more stalk-like influence and a bit of sweetly spiced oak. Medium bodied, the whole seems poised and balanced. If I've a criticism, it relates to a lack of intensity that, for me, needs to be at the next level to match the ambitions expressed elsewhere on the palate. A nice, sweetly fruited after palate and quite a long finish to boot. 

If given the choice, I would drink a Hoddles Creek wine in preference to this, the latter being of the same region and variety, and only a couple of bucks extra. By comparison, this wine feels slightly calculated, perhaps too much of a sweet talker. But, frankly, I'd never turn it down if I were offered a glass, because it just tastes so good.

De Bortoli
Price: $A16.15
Closure: Stelvin
It was perhaps indulgent of me to crack this over a casual weekday lunch, but I'm worth it. As Grand Cru Burgundy goes, this is definitely on the more affordable side; Burgundy, with its intersection of villages, classified vineyards and myriad producers is nothing if not a fascinating case study in free market economics and pricing.

This wine had been decanted for an hour or so prior to tasting. On the nose, bright notes of cherry, spice, char siu and what seems like aromatic stalkiness. Very expressive, definitely on the higher toned side, and really pretty. I wouldn't say it knocked me out with complexity or thrust, but there's a sense of correctness to the aroma that is alluring in its prim and proper poise. 

Length is the most striking aspect of the palate; the wine really does go on and on. It's light bodied, with more cherry fruit and what I can confidently describe as a bloody delicious flavour profile. It reminds me a bit of Yarra Valley Pinot in its beetrootey, rhubarbey vibe, but it is both more elegant and powerful than most. Truly an iron fist in a velvet glove, it disarms with its charming, casual air and proceeds to punch the mouth with detailed, ephemeral lightness. There's a good deal of very well matched oak too, along with delicious sweet tannins. Again, not terribly complex at this stage, but it drips of good breeding.

One is no doubt to be chastised for opening these sorts of wines so soon after they are vintaged, but I reckon it's drinking quite superbly now. A featherweight powerhouse.

Domaine Pierre Amiot et Fils
Price: $A120
Closure: Cork
I had to leave this wine overnight as, on opening, it seemed excessively sulphurous, to the point of being undrinkable. It's better tonight, although there is a hardness that seems reluctant to depart. I'm not enough of a guru to know whether this is a technical fault or a function of fruit, so I'll just call this wine as I find it.

On the nose, softly fruited with quite luscious plum and strawberry characters. There's also an edge of minerality and an underlying hardness that speaks to me of woody stalks. It's actually becoming less expressive as it sits in the glass, although what's there is interesting in an elusive way. The entry shows similarly contradictory characters. There's a thread of the same juicy fruit, but it's almost completely overwhelmed with hard, savoury characters. Things remain thin through the middle palate, with a thrust of bitterness that obscures pretty much everything. There's a bit of joy on the after palate, with some sweetly floral characters, before an astringent, hard finish.

I'm not really getting a lot from this wine in terms of enjoyment, though I will persist with it through the evening to see where it goes. 

Domaine du Prieuré
Price: $A36.30
Closure: Cork
Usually, I'm too lazy to plan ahead when it comes to food and wine matching. Today, however, I was organised to a superhuman degree (for me, anyway) and actually thought about what I would drink with what I had planned to cook. So, a venison and beetroot pot roast is just finishing up in the oven, while I am enjoying my first sips of this Pinot Noir from Geelong.

Remarkably funky and characterful nose, the complexity of which seems fruit driven rather than forced through winemaking (who knows if this impression is accurate -- kudos to Nick Farr if it's all his doing). Riotous aromas of char siu, five spice, beetroot, minerality and hessian are neatly wrapped in a brightly expressive package. The aroma profile is truly interesting and seems full of the smells of childhood in a Chinese home (how I miss my mother's cooking!).

A very flavoursome entry showing more markedly sweet fruit, red currant-like in character. It's no simple fruit bomb, though. In fact, the flavours here are again complex, with spice and sour-edged rhubarb intruding in on the lusciousness of the fruit. It's juicy without flab and savoury sans excess. Well balanced, in other words, though I would not call it delicate or elegant. In fact the flavour profile is a bit jingly jangly; it's about contrast and glitter rather than harmony. The after palate shows some sappy oak and perhaps a bit of stalk action too, again well judged. Decent finish that seems to descend to the bass registers, slowly fading away with time.

Wish me luck with the food match. 

Farr Rising
Price: $A39
Closure: Cork
First impressions consist of a freshly picked field mushroom tossed on last night's campfire. Quite a puzzling nose, actually. Pleasantly so, for it's elusive and smart, like a subtle conversationalist who prefers to hover at the edges of the discussion. I'm trying, a little unsuccessfully, to pick out threads. There's the aforementioned mushroom and charcoal, but what is most striking after some time in glass is a thrust of minerality that sits right between sour cherry fruit and musk. This wine is making me work and I'm really enjoying it. 

In the mouth, an elaboration of the aroma with some elements filled out. The entry is subtle, consisting more of a sulphur-like prickliness than any sort of substantial flavour. This fans out to a decidedly savoury middle palate. There is fruit of a sort, again in a sour cherry spectrum, yet flavours are so integrated it's unsatisfying to pick this out as a discrete thread. Rather, there's a detailed tapestry of elements, all bouncing atop a layer of well textured acid. The whole is light bodied, lacking much in the way of bass notes aside from some vanilla-nougat oak. It tastes marginal, as if ripeness were only just achieved. Raspy tannins rattle along the tongue with increasing presence. Sappy flavours take off on the lifted after palate and persist through a peacock's tail finish that resonates with attractive flair. 

I like this sort of wine. It never yells yet has so much to say. The way it is building in the glass suggests a happy future. 

Domaine du Meix Foulot
Price: $A41.80
Closure: Cork
I really do try to be a sympathetic partner, but I find myself involuntarily laughing when, on opening an unusual wine, my other half has a dramatically negative reaction, sometimes declaring a wine horrible and utterly undrinkable. "Oh really, what don't you like about it?" I usually ask, knowing I'll get back an amusingly colourful rant. Granted, he has an extremely low tolerance for things not to his taste (not a bad thing) which, when combined with my forgiveness of odd flavours and wine faults, means we have these conversations more frequently than one might expect. And so it was when we opened this wine a couple of nights ago.

Without wanting to suggest I've tasted an extensive range, ever since Chris and I shared a magical moment or two over a bottle of Tetsuya's house red (a Bass Phillip Pinot made especially), I've had a soft spot for Phillip Jones's wines. This one is testing my loyalty, though. Tasted from the same bottle two days apart, my experience is mixed. On the first night, a masculine wine full of robust, sour berry fruit and stalky, in fact almost twiggy, flavour. Although eliciting the aforementioned "yuk" from my partner, I really enjoyed the robust character and almost brutish force of the flavour profile. Granted, there seemed to be all sorts of weird flavours in there too, quite indescribable and frankly not quite "right."

Two days on and those odd flavours have won the battle. On the nose, a really odd smell that reminds me of rancid deep fryer fat, mixed with crunchy red berries, freshly ground black pepper and horse hair. Not exactly your clean, New World Pinot Noir. The palate continues this oddness, with flavours of paté on Melba toast, potato chips and utterly delicious sour fruit. And that's the thing with this wine. It's not right in the head, yet I keep coming back to it, fascinated by its combination of strange and compelling flavours. Flavour profile aside, it is structured really well, with good movement through the mouth and a well balanced interplay of acid and tannin. 

I wouldn't recommend this wine to a stranger, but I would share it with a friend.

Bass Phillip
Price: $A35
Closure: Cork
Pinot Noir, indeed any wine, from the East coast of Tasmania is rare. James Halliday lists five producers in this (unofficial) sub-region, a few of which appear to be nascent operations. Despite this lack of scale, the area has an enviable reputation for Pinot Noir, the present wine being one of the higher profile labels. 

I've been drinking a few Bourgognes lately and this wine, if nothing else, is a great exercise in calibration. I smelled it expecting, almost craving, the familiar aroma of instant gratification. Instead, I smelled nothing. So I smelled again, and realised the aroma profile is on another level entirely from stereotypically "drink now" Pinot. There's very little fruit, for starters, and I mean that as a point of interest rather than a criticism. Instead of bouncy berries, there are herbs from an English garden and a sappiness the character of which is halfway between grape skins and twigs. With time and a lot of swirling, there is some deep spice and a hint of jellied plums. It never sings, but it's densely flavoured, and hence one suspects it is simply too young to have found its voice.

Entry is cool and suave, velvet-like in the caress of its mouthfeel and dark flavour profile. There's no deviation from the seriousness of the nose, yet the palate achieves a certain deliciousness not evident before. The middle palate is ultra-clean and shows attractively herbal berry fruit atop remarkably fine, smooth tannins. The flavour seems relatively complex without feeling etched or detailed, thanks to a fullness of body combined with relaxed acidity. The after palate displays some vanilla oak influence, quite subtle, along with a lift of berry fruit. The finish doesn't last especially long.

The intent to create a quality wine seems clear, and it achieves an impressive level of sophistication. Yet I'm left wanting more; something vulgar or outré that stamps its personality on what is, to me anyway, a wine that is almost cold in its poise and perfection.

Update: open a couple of days, I've been granted my wish. It has gone quite interesting and a bit funky, with sweet and sour sauce type flavours mixing it with oak and more generous fruit. Certainly thought-provoking.

Spring Vale
Price: $A40
Closure: Stelvin
Somewhat sweet and yet savory on the nose, this wine throw out associations with spearmint, roses, strawberries, and dried straw. There's also a hint of typically Burgundian sourness there, framing it all to somewhat more serious effect; I've enjoyed just smelling this for a few minutes without necessarily feeling compelled to drink any. If anything, it smells unusually ripe, which is a bit of a surprise given the fairly pail, almost milky color of the wine.

Somewhat broad in terms of structure and tannin, there's a somewhat disappointing lack of strong flavor here, buttressed by firm acidity on the finish and a disconcerting aftertaste of stale wheat crackers. Sadly, I'm at a loss to describe what exactly this tastes like other than "like mediocre Burgundy" - it isn't bad, exactly, and yet it isn't doing anything at all for me in terms of pleasure. Weirdly, the only thing that comes to mind is something called Crazy Cow, which was a 1970s breakfast cereal that turned milk into strawberry milk upon application thereof. There's an industrial strangeness here which, paradoxically, comes from a wine which presumably isn't industrially made. Could it simply be that unusual ripeness in this vintage is overwhelming what interest there is behind relatively full sugars? I don't know, but I'll take a pass on this one.

Sébastien Roux
Price: $20
Closure: Cork
I recently purchased a few Pinots and made a point of selecting wines from various regions outside of the Yarra Valley and Mornington Peninsula. This wine, for example, is from Pemberton in Western Australia, a region from which I've tasted the Pinots of only one other maker (Picardy). 

An odd nose -- strawberries soaked in fly spray -- that isn't quite as unattractive as it sounds. But it is disjointed too, struggling to achieve a level of style, body and quality and not quite making it. Consequently, the aroma ends up being quite unsatisfying, as if something hasn't gone to plan. And yet I keep returning to it because it's somehow compelling in its oddness. I keep wondering what it was supposed to smell like.

The palate fails to resolve the aroma's questions and adds a few of its own. Entry is quite flavoursome, and initially I was hoping for a continuation of a notably bright, sweet red fruit note.  But the wine is just too thin to create any impression of luxury or plushness. On the middle palate, there's a flash of fullness in the mouth, but it disappears quickly, leaving a somewhat weedy flavour profile behind. Some medicinal sweetness on the after palate, before a finish that's actually quite long, if not especially delicious. 

I try to avoid writing up wines that are deeply unsatisfactory. In the case of this wine, I am taking the time to describe it in part because, although I am not deriving much satisfaction from it, I'm also reflecting on what I know of Pemberton Pinot Noir and noting how fine a line it appears to tread. Picardy's 2005 Tête de Cuvée, for example, is equally feather-light and distinctive in flavour profile, though on a different level of quality. Yet both are utterly marginal, and there's something heroic in this wine's attempt to achieve balance and intensity, even though it ultimately fails. 12.5% abv.

Treehouse (Salitage)
Price: $A17.95
Closure: Stelvin
Together with the Stefano Lubiana tasted yesterday, this wine falls in a sparsely populated class that I shall call "second label Australian Pinot Noirs that don't taste like second label Australian Pinot Noirs." Breaking new ground, as always.

This wine reeks of winemaking cred. Really funky aromas of tomato sauce, barbecued snags, sparkling red fruit and spice. A touch of merde too. Personally, I love it, not least for the fact that it will probably divide drinkers in an instant. Despite everything that's going on here, fruit flavour seems quite straightforward, which is a nice foil to the winemaking artifact. Above all, it communicates an immediate, confident sense of style. 

The palate is light to medium bodied with a good acid structure. The entry is deceptively gentle and seems a bit hollow until you realise there's fruit starting to creep up and over your tongue. Flavours of light red cherry, sappy stalk and vanilla sizzle on the back of firm, fine acid.  The middle palate presents with a rush of freshness. Again, no great complexity of fruit, though it is distinctive in character. A bit of fruit weight gathers on the after palate, moving into a plum-like flavour spectrum and gaining impact thanks to some ripe, loose tannins. A laidback, sweet finish rounds the wine off nicely.

Certainly not the last word in complexity or intensity, yet very attractive as a wine style. I like that it seems to make few concessions to perceived taste at this price point; indeed, it's a wine with a personality all its own, not afraid to make friends or alienate in turn. Nice one.

Curlewis
Price: $A23.75
Closure: Diam
Visiting Central Otago with Chris late last year was instructive in many respects, not least in the opportunity it afforded to taste many producers' second label Pinots alongside their premium offerings. As much as I'd like to believe in the romanticism of wine and winemaking, more often than not I am struck by how calculated a particular range of wines can be. A simple, fruity second label, a heftier mainstream wine, an excessively extracted and oaked reserve label. Very much by the numbers, and quite uninteresting as a set of implicit assumptions around what constitutes quality and value. 

Wine, for me, should be anchored in a sense of context and appropriateness. Some wines facilitate a casual weekday meal, others challenge the intellect, and yet others can create a sense of occasion. Variations in structure and flavour profile reflect these roles, rather than a perceived hierarchy of quality. I'm not a relativist when it comes to quality, but I do believe the question isn't simply a matter of "more" or "bigger."

I mention all that in passing because this Pinot challenges the idea that a second label wine should be an easy, straightforward drinking experience. It's a little different from some previous vintages of the Primavera which, while rarely being simple, have sometimes shown to more immediate advantage. The aroma here, by contrast, strikes one with depth and savouriness. It's almost a difficult aroma profile, with odd notes such as sweet foliage (not quite tomato vine), juicy yet savoury cherry fruit and oak that seems smokey, sappy and a bit raw. Some attractive five spice notes on top too. Some of this angularity is no doubt due to its youth, but this wine seems to have a fundamentally dark aroma.

The palate confirms the density of this wine's fruit flavour. It's quite sombre, full of crushed black cherries and plums, sweet and sour sauce, chocolate and some sappiness. Entry is immediate, packed with fruit flavour and pushed along by a good dose of acidity. The middle palate is full of flavour but manages to avoid feeling heavy thanks to the acid and a framework of tannins that are loosely defined yet quite assertive. The flavour profile seems somewhat medicinal at this point, showing mostly in savoury terms and turning in a sappy, slightly oaky direction on the after palate. The finish is clean, long and full of fruit flavour. 

I'm not at all confident I have the measure of this wine, and that in itself pleases me. It's a tasty, deeply fruited, sophisticated Pinot, packed with fruit flavour and happy to exist in a spectrum of flavour that might be regarded as difficult. I understand 2008 was a warm growing season in Tasmania, and the level of fruit ripeness here seems higher than in some previous vintages. In any case, it's very distinctive and perhaps even brave. I suspect given a few months in bottle it will be even better. A pleasure to taste such complexity and distinctiveness in a second label wine.

Stefano Lubiana
Price: $A27.55
Closure: Stelvin
It's probably not the best idea to taste wine while you're baking a cake, but as Philip White wrote recently in defense of mixing fragrance and wine: as if wine was always meant to be drunk in sterilised rooms. In fact, the smells of baking are stimulating my appetite in the most gluttonous manner, and I'd like to think this provides an appropriately domestic context for the tasting. A Village Burgundy from Vosne-Romanée, I've had the previous vintage on a few occasions and enjoyed it each time. However, 2005 was, by all accounts, an extraordinary vintage, so I'm curious to see what 2006 says about how this site expresses itself in less exceptional circumstances.

Somewhat differently, it turns out. The aroma is hard in a woody, stalky manner that, I must admit, has its own odd appeal. Nowhere near as funky as the 2005, this wine presents more straightforward fruit character. I don't mean to imply it's not complex and delicious -- it rather is -- just in a different manner. The nose is actually quite expressive and spews forth notes of icing sugar on raspberries, rose water and all manner of preserved meats. It's a bit disjointed, very distinctive and perhaps will be divisive too. I rather like it.

The palate shows greater definition than the aroma at present. Entry is cool and sleek, delivering the sort of refreshment usually associated with a glass of cold water. It quickly becomes flavoursome in a lightly fruit-driven manner, with savoury red berries and more funky smoked notes the dominant elements. The whole is quite light bodied and fleet, though with surprising intensity, especially on the after palate. Acidity is firm and tannins are fairly loose-knit. Oak is quite well judged here, sort of nougat-like in character and fairly light on in volume. The finish mirrors the entry in terms of cleanliness, ending with a fresh thrust of savoury fruit that lingers deliciously and for some time.

I really like this but I admit it's a bit odd too, not quite coming together as a whole argument. Rather, it makes its points in a carefree manner, not striving too hard for an overarching narrative. Let go of your need for coherence and enjoy disconnected bursts of beauty instead. I'm looking forward to drinking the rest over dinner.

Jacques Cacheux & Fils
Price: $A63
Closure: Cork
This is the second vintage of this wine I'd had the chance to drink, and you know what? I just don't get it. I love pink wine, I love JK Carriere's pinot noir and chardonnay, and this wine? Let's just say that anyone who likes this wine presumably really, really loves this wine; to me, it's kind of like reading Pravda: it's still recognizably a newspaper, but it sure doesn't read like one, at least not to me.

So what is this wine like? It's impossibly pale in the glass, more pale than any other pink wine I know. The smell, such as it is, is faint, fragile; it reminds me of traditional English summer drinks such as elderflower-scented water, potentially even rose-and-cucumber water. The acidity is lively, there's just a hint of carbonation - OK, not really, more the suggestion of spritzig-ness - but on the whole it feels empty, strangely lacking to me. I suppose it's just missing some ephemeral complementary foodstuff that I haven't figured out yet - my friend Mark was thinking maybe goat cheese? - but on it's own it's very much an enigma, at least to me.

J. K. Carriere
Price: $20
Closure: Cork
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