Giaconda Pinot Noir 2008

As luck would have it, I’m enjoying my Easter long weekend in bed with a messy, feverish chest cold for company. Rather than attempt to taste wine in this condition, I thought I’d reflect on a bottle drunk a week or two ago. This was a gift from my ever-generous co-author Chris. I shall save the other bottle to taste with him, as I’d really like a second opinion here.

It’s clear this wine is all quality, with intensity, power and drive to spare. Stylistically, though, it raises an equally clear question: do these ostensibly desirable qualities contribute to drinkability? I’m not so sure. But first, my impressions of the wine itself. The nose is massively complex, even at a young age. The character of the fruit is alternately sweet/savoury, the Yarra component evident in what strikes me as a luscious, if somewhat blunt, slice of juicy fruit pie. There’s a good deal of oak here too, charry and bold. I was quite bowled over by this wine’s impact at first, and it took me a moment to realise I was being overpowered by the wine, pushed around and told what to do.

The palate is equally powerful and somewhat front-loaded in shape, with good acid and a lovely, drying chalky finish. Flavours echo the nose, with rhubarb and strawberries bursting through an underlay of savoury complexity and an overlay of glossy oak. Again, quite an overpoweringly awesome wine, but at the same time one that doesn’t encourage onward consumption. Indeed, one glass was quite enough, and though there’s no denying the skill and fruit at play, I ended up feeling slightly cornered.

Giaconda
Price: $NA
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Gift

Mayfield Vineyard Riesling 2008

It’s sometimes said that Riesling goes through an unattractive phase in its medium term development, becoming momentarily awkward in its transition from aromatic youth to richly honeyed maturity. Curious, then, to see this wine released at a couple of years of age rather than as a youngster, risking a less than ideal showing.

Indeed, this wine appears to occupy an in-between space, though it’s hard to say for sure, not having tasted it as a fresh wine. As it is, the aroma is a mix of extreme austerity and the beginnings of toasty maturity. There are minerals galore and some aggressively high-toned lime blossom, undercut by a much fatter yet still nascent thread of honeyed toast. Each half of the wine is almost completely disconnected from the other, but on its own terms the set of flavours is correct and pleasingly quirky.

The palate is a replay of the nose, with the addition of predictably severe acid and a mouthfeel that is impressively textured. Intensity is greatest through the middle and after palates, while the finish does a neat trick of soaring up with floral flavours even as it empties the wine of any significant body. There’s a lot going on here and it’s quite chaotic, but I can’t help thinking it needs time to collect itself.

Not a huge amount of drinking pleasure right now, but perhaps one to watch if you have a penchant for left-of-centre Aussie Riesling.

Mayfield Vineyard
Price: $A28
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Flaxman Eden Valley Shiraz 2008

To the many ways one might measure value for money in wine, I vote for the addition of a “cred” scale. If such a measure existed, this wine would score very highly indeed. For a mere $A25 $A45 (see below), the buyer can enjoy an Eden Valley Shiraz (ding!), made by an utterly boutique producer (ding!) from Estate fruit (ding!) grown on old vines… well, you get the idea. My pocket authenticiometre really does register off the scale here.

None of which guarantees any measure of enjoyment. But it’s a conceptual start, and if one believes wine is, ideally, more than simply what’s in the glass, such things can matter. For instance, it may raise certain expectations of style and even quality: one might look to wines like this for fashionably traditional winemaking, or a clearer view into vintage conditions, and so on.

First impressions are solid; the aroma expresses a thick, ripe plum note that seems half way between the Barossa Valley and the Grampians, in that it combines the lusciousness of the Valley’s styles with a hint of the angularity one sees in cooler climate wines. I do such a classic style a disservice by comparing it to other wines, though; this is Eden Shiraz, if a ripe, relatively forward expression of the style. There are other aroma nuances too – a hint of pepper, some twig and dust.

This fullness of expression carries through to the palate, and here the wine is likely to polarise drinkers. This is a full-throttle wine whose density of flavour alone is impressive. Right from the entry, there’s chewy plum fruit, ripe brambles (the fruit and the wood) and nervous oak. The trade-off for all this flavour is a certain brutality to the flavour profile and in the way it registers on the tongue. It slams rather than floats down, creating a vivid sense of impact but lacking some finesse. Tannins are thick and chewy, contributing to a notably dry after palate and finish.

You could never mistake this wine for the product of large-scale winemaking; it wears its imperfections too flagrantly for that. Something to be thankful for.

Update: price on the sample bottle was wrong. This wine in fact retails for $45.

Flaxman Wines
Price: $A45
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Closerie des Alisiers Meursault Vieilles Vignes 2008

Onwards with my British supermarket wine odyssey. Last night I was browsing in a Sainsbury’s and gravitated to the “fine wine” section. Out jumped this little number, a village-level white Burgundy priced at a reasonable (in Australian terms) £20. Unlike the recent Tesco disappointment, this wine is not a house-branded wine.

An interesting nose, mutable and complex, showing by turns savoury minerality, rich peach syrup and lemon thyme. There’s a bit of marginally distracting sulfur that emphasises the savouriness of the aroma profile. Is it an attractive wine to smell? Not in a conventional sense; it’s too angular and too full of contrasts. But there’s a lot there and overall the aroma communicates a nice sense of sophistication.

The palate is shockingly acidic at first, and this acidity briefly masks an array of quite fabulous flavours. Things seem more coherent in the mouth than on the nose, due in part to a rounding out of each flavour component. The fruit is now juicy and fleshy, the nutty creaminess a much more significant influence. Add to this a buxom mouthfeel and the wine really starts to come alive as you work your way through the first glass. By way of criticism, intensity is only moderate, and this jars when placed against the plushness and weight of the wine. Also, the flavour profile as a whole continues to lack a sense of wholeness that one would ideally see, but each element is pleasing on its own terms, and I wonder whether a bit of a rest in bottle might bring things together.

Not bad at all.

Closerie des Alisiers
Price: £19.95
Closure: Cork
Source: Retail

Casa Vinicola Luigi Cecchi & Figli Chianti Classico 2008

Also known as Tesco’s generic Chianti Classico. One of the things I’ve been amused by on my visit to the UK is the reorientation required when browsing supermarket wine aisles. Italian, Argentinian, Chilean and South African wines all seem to vie for cheapest spot, while the Aussies are off to one side with either unexpectedly expensive wines (for example, Jacob’s Creek) or really boring looking labels that seem to equate “export only” with a complete lack of personality on the shelf. Meanwhile, Tesco’s shelves seem heavily occupied with its own “selections” that encompass the usual regional suspects: Rhône, Burgundy, Bordeaux and various Italian regions, including of course Chianti.

So, browsing my local Tesco Express last night, I decided to do as the locals do and pick up a bottle of Tesco’s 2008 Chianti Classico to go with an Italian meal my host was preparing. There are few wines I prefer to drink with robust food more than a good Chianti, and I was curious to see how Tesco’s buyers had chosen to navigate the dangers of overcropped Sangiovese with their selection.

As it turns out, not all that well. Despite being varietally correct, this wine shows a degree of dilution that robs it of a lot of enjoyment. Sharp aromas of red cherries, twigs and raw almonds on the nose. It’s what I’d expect from such a wine, perhaps a little simple, but certainly correct. And volume isn’t the problem; what’s there is expressive. It’s just so thin, lacking in the kind of meaty density that makes any wine enticing to smell.

Again, totally correct with very attractive flavours on the palate; some marzipan thrown in amongst a big hit of sour cherries and vanilla. I’m also pleased with the wine’s mouthfeel, as it shows just enough of the rusticity that I look for in Sangiovese. But oh, how dilute are the flavours! It’s really quite tough to sit with a wine that hints at such satisfaction but which never actually delivers. Each mouthful is a struggle to get what I need from it.

Often, “food wine” is code for “not very good.” For me, though, food wines often bear the heaviest burden, as they must live up not only to their own potential but that of the meal too. The exceptional quality of my meal last night made this wine’s shortcomings even less acceptable.

Casa Vinicola Luigi Cecchi & Figli
Price: £10
Closure: Diam
Source: Retail

Clayfield Black Label Shiraz 2008

I’m in the UK enjoying a rather overdue holiday. My current locale is the North East — County Durham — where each day is marked by lashings of rain, wind and the occasional burst of lovely sunshine. Certainly a dramatic change from the floods, cyclones and general sub-tropicalness I left behind in Queensland, but no less invigorating for it.

One thing I didn’t leave behind, though, was this bottle of wine. I brought it along to share with my host here as (what I hoped would be) an example of one of our great Shiraz styles. Three nights ago, we sat down to to a richly aromatic lamb pot roast and I thought it the right occasion to crack this open.

What a disappointment (bear with me, though). On opening, it was disjointed, overly chocolatey and lacking in the particular Grampians fruit character that makes this style so enduring and exciting. Surely this couldn’t be a representative bottle. Simon Clayfield is a painfully talented winemaker, so I had difficultly interpreting this wine’s ungainliness, as did my host, who felt it smelled overwhelmingly of dusty Christmas ornaments in musty packaging (and he’s not even a wino… impressive). We left it aside after a glass each and it’s only now that I’m returning to it, on the chance that something interesting has happened in bottle.

And boy, has it ever. The lesson here is to give this wine plenty of time and air. Three days after opening, it’s just beginning to sing with the most charming and typical plum fruit character, brown spice, flashes of red berry, brambles, dust and cocoa powder. Such complexity and luxe, it’s a wonderful wine to keep smelling. I should note, though, this is definitely a product of its vintage, being a richer wine with less classically cool climate character than is sometimes found in wines of this region.

The palate is most dramatically changed from a few days ago, showing an elegance of line that simply wasn’t present at first. It’s also pleasingly fresh, the bright fruit character and juicy orange acid contributing most to this impression. Overall, it’s medium bodied in weight and brisk in movement, scattering fruit, freshly ground spice and subtle oak across the tongue. It all culminates in a long, rustic finish whose tannins rasp the tongue coquettishly, both sweet and rough. There’s some heat on the palate, unsurprising given its 15.7% abv; whether this is an issue may vary from drinker to drinker.

So glad I waited.

Clayfield Wines
Price: $A65
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Flaxman Shhh Cabernet 2008

I was home late this evening, a consequence of having too much to do and not enough time in which to do it. Being generally indecisive when faced with too much choice, I was amused to observe an instinctive lunge towards a box of Flaxman samples as I was pondering what to drink. My experience of this producer’s red wines is one of generous deliciousness, perhaps going the extra mile in ripeness and oak to achieve more giving wines. Just the ticket.

Interestingly, although this shows no shortage of flavour, there’s an essential elegance to this wine that remains true to its variety. The nose is a nice blend of Eden earthiness and Cabernet purity, the former adding edge and texture to red fruit character that would otherwise tend towards confectionary. Hints of twig, crushed leaf and tart skins add complexity. There’s some oak in there for sure, and it tends to sit in the background, contributing some subtle spice and nougat aromas.

The palate is medium bodied and acid driven, surprisingly so in a way, and what I am enjoying most about this wine is the clean way it moves through the mouth, leaving trails of intense fruit flavour behind, but never cloying or appearing heavy. Entry is lively and immediate, building quickly to a middle palate that is both textural (mostly acid) and powerfully flavoured. If you can accept the fruit flavour profile on its own terms (and it’s very different from cooler climate Cabernets), this will be a pleasure. If not, you may wish for a less exuberant, more subtle wine. It’s all a matter of taste and occasion, I suppose; this is a wine that gives plenty without asking for much in return. And, as attractive as a bit of mystery can be, there’s a place for easy charms, even when it comes to Cabernet. A bit dippy through the after palate and finish, with a light dusting of charmingly coarse tannins.

Flaxman Wines
Price: $A35
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Yelland & Papps Divine Shiraz 2008

At $65, this wine sits firmly in “icon” territory on price alone. What’s interesting to me is that its producer, Yelland & Papps, typically produces joyously, perhaps even excessively, easy-drinking expressions of the classic Barossa Valley varieties (Grenache, Shiraz). How will this approach translate to a price point at which drinkers will undoubtedly expect so much more?

Once I recovered from pouring a glass from what is surely the heaviest bottle I’ve ever encountered, the nose screamed immediately “more.” More fruit, greater density, a surplus of oak; this wine is quite packed with elements, and they struggle at first to make their way coherently from the glass. It’s like the Boxing Day sales of yore, shoppers trampling over each other to get to the single, ridiculously discounted fridge freezer on Level 3. There’s plum essence, fruit cake spice and rather glossy cedar oak in the main. Perhaps slightly lifted, which helps the red fruit notes sing. I don’t think there’s an excess of complexity; rather, the focus is on impact and sheer quantity.

If anything, the palate is even more forceful. There’s a thickness of mouthfeel and generosity of flavour that’s immediately evident on entry, and it fairly forces the mouth open in order to accommodate all that it has to offer (including a fairly visible alcohol level of 15% abv). Super concentrated plum juice, all manner of red and black berries, more spice, more oak. There’s so much here I’m not sure where to look, but I can remark with some certainty that few will be left wanting more flavour than is here.

All of which causes me to return to my starting point, which is to question the stylistic implications of a reserve-level wine. Yelland & Papps has taken a relatively conventional approach of “more is more,” and within the style this is a really good wine, full of quality fruit and showing well-handled oak in particular. And, although it’s not what I’d class as an easy drinking wine, this somehow feels right within the context of the producer’s house style. Yet I can’t help wondering what the alternate options might be. A finer wine, perhaps, more detailed and characterful? Something challenging, with more adventurous winemaking or angular flavours? A style that mines less well travelled implications of Barossa terroir?

It’s no doubt wrong to criticise something for what it isn’t, and I hope my note makes clear that this wine has several outstanding features. Perhaps my own craving for novelty is the issue in this instance; drinkers are advised to crack open a bottle of this and enjoy what the Barossa does best.

Yelland & Papps
Price: $A65
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Moppity Vineyards Reserve Shiraz 2008

This is quite a wine. After a few days of tasting fundamentally uninteresting commercial styles, one sniff of this reminded me of what wine can be, of how it can fill a room and one’s senses with individualism and character.

Which probably means some people will hate it, and those likely to disapprove are those with an aversion to spicy, cooler climate Shiraz styles of the sort Australia does so well but is so little known for. This wine, from Hilltops in New South Wales, is a full-on pepper attack at first, each twist of the grinder revealing blackberry brambles, snapped twig and all sorts of other wild, meaty aromas that are about as far from Barossa Shiraz as you can get. It’s sharp and complex and neatly avoids any sense of out-and-out aggressiveness.

The palate is both light and powerful. What stands out most for me is the way each flavour wraps around the others while remaining quite distinct; this gives the wine a sinewy, taut character that is quite thrilling. Entry is spiced and red fruited in equal measure, the flavour profile being entirely savoury and the acid prominent. While the middle palate remains light to medium bodied, there’s a good deal of flavour and its sharp, spiced profile gives the wine satisfying impact. The after palate shows some plush plum fruit alongside twigs and spice (and a hint of vanilla ice cream oak), while the finish is both delicate and long. The acid needs a little time to settle, I think, as it’s currently quite assertive, something the sharp flavour profile does not mask. Tannins are drying and loose-knit.

Still an infant, but bloody impressive nonetheless. I’ll be fascinated to revisit this in a few years’ time.

Moppity Vineyards
Price: $A60
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Reichsrat von Buhl Dry Riesling 2008

Dry German Rieslings interest me for at least two reasons. Firstly, I rarely see them for sale locally. Secondly, they inevitably invite comparison to local Rieslings, which to my mind are amongst the best, indeed are perhaps the very best, dry styles in the world. Ironically, just as dry Germans seem to be coming into vogue, Australian makers are chasing off-dry styles that model Old World wines. One wonders sometimes whether adventurous winemakers are motivated by the pursuit of beauty or simply by boredom.

Anyway, there’s no mistaking this wine for an Australian Riesling, which in theory is a good starting point. There’s a bit of spritz evident on pouring. The nose is broad and shows slightly dull tropical fruit notes (think jackfruit) alongside a touch of sulfur and some minerality. The aroma profile lacks the immediacy and piercing clarity of many Australian dry Rieslings, substituting a certain rich fullness. Being critical, this lacks oomph in the upper registers, and I would have preferred greater definition. It all smells a bit lazy to me.

The palate shows more life, thanks in part to that bit of spritz, which contributes impact and a sizzled mouthfeel. Flavoursome on entry, with a mixture of citrus and tropical fruit flavours, plus a streak of more angular minerality that carries right through the middle and after palates. Good intensity and generosity for sure, though the flavour profile for me is again rather broad, suggestive of some oxidative handling, and lacking the precision and focus I admire in good Riesling. A nice, dry, minerally finish is most pleasing.

Not a bad wine, but too hazy to truly press my buttons. Still, a flavoursome drink by any measure.

Reichsrat von Buhl
Price: $A27.90
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Retail