Morandé Reserva Chardonnay 2006

Sometimes, a string of busy days leaves you with few reserves towards the end of the week. I’m in that space right now, and wasn’t sure what to open tonight. There’s lamb on the stove, but somehow I don’t feel like the robust Shiraz that, in most cases, would be an obvious choice. No, tonight I need some space, and am taking a chance on this Chilean Chardonnay. Another Southern Cross Wines import. 

There’s no lamer descriptor than “grapey” (ok, “smooth” comes close), but sometimes you just need to call it how it is. And this smells instantly, unashamedly like fresh grape juice. That’s not all there is, but the point is it’s fresh and sunny in ways one might ordinarily associate with Australian wine. There are certainly complexities to the aroma profile; a hint of wheat, a little nougat oak, and some more tropical fruit like papaya. But this wine’s value seems to lie in the straightforward expression of its attractive fruit. So far so good.
The palate is unexpectedly acidic; in fact, it seems a little unbalanced to me and, as a result, quite nervy. On the plus side, it has good impact on entry, with a sizzling mouthfeel and bright, clean fruit. The line widens progressively until it reaches a mid-palate of quite gushy fruit, underlined by that chalky acidity. There’s no shortage of flavour, including some oak and winemaking influence that is caramel-like in nature. The flavour profile itself is straightforward and attractive, tending to leanness in terms of its character. A lightfooted after palate leads to more reverberant flavour through the finish. The finish itself is a highlight, and goes on for much longer than it has any right to. 
A lighter style, then. Structurally, I’m not convinced that it hangs together, due mostly to the character and volume of the acidity. The clean fruit flavours, though, keep me coming back. A good Summer white, and keenly priced.

Morandé
Price: $A20
Closure: Cork

Ishtar Grenache Shiraz Mourvèdre 2006

I don’t envy wine show judges. Quite apart from the difficulty of appearing dignified with purple teeth, there’s the challenge of judging a wine based on a quick tasting, in a lineup of fourty, perhaps even fifty like wines, after what may have been several flights earlier in the day. Even if I had the tasting perspective, I’d no doubt make a hash of the process, simply because I feel terribly disappointed when I derive no enjoyment from wine, and therefore tend to give most wines a chance to show a positive side.

And that can take time, sometimes days. Or, in the case of this wine, about half an hour. Still, I was ready to write it off at first. My initial sip was as follows: bright red, aggressively confected aroma preceding a sweet, medium bodied palate of considerable simplicity. Next!
But oh, how it’s evolved in the glass. After a little time and air, the nose is quite transformed. While it remains within an easy drinking idiom, there’s plenty of interest to the aroma profile, with meaty Mourvèdre and spicy Shiraz framing fruit that, though confectionary in nature, is well balanced against the savoury elements, and has evolved both sour and sweet faces. 
Similarly, the palate is a long way from its initial presentation and shows surprising sophistication in terms of its movement through the mouth. It’s medium bodied at most, with subtle tannins and enough acidity to stay fresh. Well-judged for frictionless consumption, then; this extends to intensity and density of flavour, neither of which call too much attention to themselves. In fact, it threatens to become a bit weedy, but is saved somewhat by a nice surge of sweet fruit as the middle palate transitions to the after palate. A meaty savouriness leads into the finish, which shows cough-syrup flavours and goes on for a decent amount of time.
There’s cheeky intent behind this wine, or at least a reluctance to forego interest for drinkability. Smart quaffing.

Balthazar of the Barossa
Price: $A19.50
Closure: Stelvin

Unison Selection 2006

Some wines are charismatic without being pretty; they make an entrance with the panache of the truly confident, and it takes a moment before you realise they’re really not that attractive in a conventional sense. But their confidence draws you in regardless, generating a visceral response that, perhaps, speaks to a different sort of beauty.

For example, I could describe the aroma of this wine as outré, inelegant, overanxious; it’s indeed all these things. But it’s absolutely magnetic too, exerting an attraction that is really compelling. It’s a bit volatile — indeed, not a clinical style at all — with lifted aromas of stalk, black pepper, dried flowers, and deep plum fruit. Despite the eagerness of each note, there’s a fluidity to their collective expression that unifies the aroma profile and generates a sense of coherence.

There’s coherence, too, from nose to palate, starting with an entry that tingles with delicately sweet, red fruit. The flavour profile quickly darkens towards the middle palate, and a few threads begin to emerge. There’s rich, fresh plum juice, tart plum skins, sweet mocha tannins, astringent stalk and cracked black pepper. It’s quite complex, with a beguiling mouthfeel that seems to be both liquid-smooth and velvet-tannic at the same time. Spices and red fruit rise through the after palate before a long, aromatic finish draws the wine to a satisfying close.

There’s definitely an “X factor” at work here and, perhaps because of this, I suspect the style will be divisive. But even if this wine doesn’t speak to one’s personal preference, it’s hard to deny the strength with which its stylistic argument is made.

Unison Vineyard
Price: $A50
Closure: Diam

Domaine Alain Chavy Puligny-Montrachet 1er Cru Les Clavoillons 2006

With Burgundy, it’s a truism that producers make all the difference. So, the same premier cru may vary wildly in reputation based on who has grown the grapes and made the wine. All of which seems sensible, until one places it on the context of terroir and the defining place Burgundy seems to hold in terms of this idea of wine. In the immortal words of Michael Veitch, there’s a lesson in that for all of us.

Perhaps because I cleaned my bathroom today, I’m detecting a hint of Domestos Regular (the blue bottle) in the aroma of this wine, along with what I initially thought was some cork taint.  Not a great way to start a tasting; it’s just not one of those wines that emerges, fully formed, when it’s first poured. Rather, it needs time to collect its thoughts. After an hour or so of air, funky cashew nuts, oatmeal, piercing fruit flavours that are both blossom and juice, and some toasty oak. Alain Chavy’s wines tend towards restraint and delicacy, and that’s very much the case with this wine too, which makes it quite elusive. Despite the complexity, what shines most on the nose is sharp, slightly sour fruit for which I’m struggling to find an appropriate descriptor. A cross between lemons and white stonefruit is probably the best I can do. No matter — with enough time, there’s a beguiling sense of harmony that is attractively sensual, beseiged by discordant minerality that never allows things to become too easy.
The palate is characterised by fresh acidity and good thrust. A really attractive entry that’s surprisingly soft, with cashews and furry white peach flowing to a middle palate that shifts up a gear. Bang, there’s an orange juice-like mouthfeel, delicious fruit that shows good intensity, and an overall sense of brisk efficiency. Funky oatmeal remains an underlying flavour component until the after palate, where fruit begins to take a back seat to this and a range of other nutty and mineral notes. A surge of these flavours carries through to the finish, which vibrates for some time. 
This isn’t a wine to lust after, as it asks you to work a bit and live with its idiosyncrasies. I wonder if falls between stools, stylistically; part of me wishes it were more expressive and softer. But then I take another sip and this tension between luscious fruit and nervy minerality seems very much of the essence. I’m almost convinced, in the moment, its vision of Burgundy is right. I’m very happy to debate it.

Domaine Alain Chavy
Price: $A81.40
Closure: Cork

Wynns Coonawarra Estate Alex 88 Cabernet Sauvignon 2006

Wynns’ series of single vineyard bottlings over recent vintages prompts, amongst other things, the question: why? The back label suggests each bottling represents an outstanding parcel of fruit from a particular vineyard in a particular year, which is fine; but what, exactly, does “outstanding” mean in this context? Of the two I’ve tasted (the Johnson’s Block and this one), both seem within the same order of magnitude of quality as the Black Label, yet slightly outside the mainstream of regional style set by that same wine. Perhaps a distinctive character, not ostentatious quality, is the point here. I can dig that.

This was really disjointed for the first while but is coming together nicely. Used coffee grounds, ripe red fruit, polished sideboards full of old cutlery, and a few pine needles too. I wouldn’t describe the aroma as elegant, which is a shame to me as Coonawarra Cabernet can be terribly stylish, but it’s also flagrantly, sexily aromatic. The culprit, it seems, is fruit that errs on the side of very ripe, and oak that bludgeons in its custard, cedar profile. I’m being picky, though.

The palate is plush and generous, such that the wine drinks well now. Somehow, it seems more varietal than the nose, especially in its herbaceous overtones. As with the nose, the fruit here is sweet and red, and slightly stewed. There’s a nice linearity to the flow, with a consistent level of fruit intensity and density from early on through to the finish. Some interesting complexities of flavour, especially on the after palate where something akin to aniseed seems to poke its head out, along with a bit of menthol. Tannins are silty, globby masses of texture, kind of like wading out onto a mud flat with bare feet.

It’s not really my style of Cabernet, but I think it should win quite a few friends nonetheless.

Wynns Coonawarra Estate
Price: $A35
Closure: Stelvin

Cardinham Estate Cabernet Sauvignon 2006

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

Karra Yerta Shiraz Cabernet 2006

This wine (and winery) defines boutique in many respects. A limited run production of 170 cases, made by James Linke from Eden Valley and Barossa fruit, then blended by Pete Schell to create this quite outstanding little number. When I asked the engaging Marie Linke the intent behind this wine, her answer was “a good home brew, for ourselves, but plans change.” And how.

I tasted this over two days, and recommend a good decant at the very least if drinking now. The nose is almost provocatively complex, with notes of gunpowder, barbecued meats, five-spice, lavender, mulberries and cocoa powder. It sounds cacophonous but it’s more like a plaid wool blankie: textured and comforting. The aroma profile softened overnight, not becoming less complex but simply settling into its groove, less puffed out, more sophisticated. If there’s a hint of volatility, it works well to lift into and penetrate the nostrils. 
The palate has shown an even greater transformation with time. At first, unexpectedly bright red fruit shoots down the mouth, accompanied by the same savouriness as in the aroma, falling away a bit on the after palate. A couple of hours later, it fills out significantly, gaining weight and elegance at the same time, and losing the slightly disjointed construction I saw at first. The next day, now, it has melted into a thing of beauty, a limpid pool of dark richness that seems to dissolve onto the tongue with an impossible sense of control. The fruit flavour has gone to dark cherries, with a range of other flavours (including sappy oak) that resist being teased apart from one another. The slinky mouthfeel is a highlight here; tannins are almost excessively fine and ripe. 
This is a “fall in love” sort of wine; distinctive, beautiful. I’m not going to resist.

Karra Yerta Wines
Price: $A25
Closure: Stelvin

Domaine Pierre Amiot et Fils Grand Cru Clos de la Roche 2006

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

Domaine Dublère Puligny-Montrachet 1er Cru Sous le Puits 2006

The best thing I can say about this wine is that, alongside its many sensual charms, it prompted a conversation that ranged from the irony of Burgundian terroir to the application of Bloom’s The Anxiety of Influence to winemaking. Some people’s worst nightmare, no doubt, but Heaven to this particular wine tragic; I love wines that are larger than themselves.

An expressive, assertively complex aroma comprising (amongst other things) grilled almonds and cashews, detailed lees-derived notes, vanilla and an attractive level of sulphur. It’s fresh and savoury, and wears both its fruit character and winemaking very much on its sleeve. That it’s a typically Burgundian, worked style is evident immediately (barrel fermentation, batonnage, malolactic fermentation); thankfully, its technique is sympathetically applied. 
A burst of canned peaches in the mouth, accompanied by a range of mostly-savoury flavours like banana skins, almond meal and spicy oak. The flavours are granular within the fabric of the wine, accompanied by a lively, textural mouthfeel. Flinty acid underlines the palate from start to finish and feels slightly raspy on the tongue, a foil to rounder, creamier textures. The wonderful thing about this sophisticated mix of textures, aside from providing its own interest, is the way it prompts the clear expression of individual flavours: one can both taste and feel almonds, peach syrup, and so on. The effect is especially wonderful on the minerally after palate.  This is a great example of truly integrated structure. 
A really nice Chardonnay, then, smart and delicious in equal measure. The extent of the winemaking poses its own questions that I won’t explore in detail here, except to suggest the archetype of the “winemaker as custodian of terroir” (as I believe my lunch companion phrased it) demands critical thought.

Domaine Dublère
Price: $A90
Closure: Cork

Cardinham Estate Shiraz 2006

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