Cavas de Weinert Gran Vino 2002

Gorgeous, rich pretty cherry black in the glass, you could almost mistake this for raspberry sauce gone missing from your cheesecake. However, trepidation sets in on the nose: there’s a slightly raspy note promising difficult acidity, a somewhat off-putting charred, smoky note, and just the briefest hint of a curious sweetness I generally associate with yeasts that may or may not be intentional. Very strange.Round and full at first if somewhat unstructured, it quickly resolves into a clunky, tannic finsh that leaves you with that tell-tale did I just accidentally lick a hamster? feeling. Again, the odd yeastiness is briefly here and there, just not consistently; I wish I could better describe what it is what I’m feeling here, but it’s (to my mind) very much a marker of New World winemaking. Over time and with additional air, however, the wine does open up a bit, turning into cherry coffee tincture with chewy tannins.Ultimately, I suspect that there’s a very, very low level of TCA contamination here, which would account for the odd, fleeting, yeasty-sweet off notes, I suspect. Sometimes this wine taste like a serious contender for well-judged, nicely ripe New World Bordeaux; sometimes, it tends more towards telltale wet cardboard. It’s a shame I don’t have another bottle to compare against this one; for now I’ll chalk this bottle up in the ‘might be good but I don’t think I can honestly judge it’ category.Bodega y Cavas de Weinert
Price: $20
Closure: Cork

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

Ballandean Estate Cabernet Sauvignon 2005

I feel a bit lame for not writing up more local wines, so consider this an assuagement of my sense of guilt as much as anything else. Still, my notes on Full Pour are in large part a reflection of what I choose to drink for pleasure, and the reality is I haven’t explored Queensland wines to any significant extent. Not to diminish this particular wine before I’ve even started, of course. Here we have a straight Cabernet from the Granite Belt region, produced by one of its oldest wineries. 

There are some distinctive things happening on the nose here; quite a strong smell of turned earth and dusty red fruits in addition to more typically Cabernet aromas of leafiness and dark berries. The fruit character strikes me as quite ripe, a bit stewed even, and the earth notes aren’t squeaky clean, but the whole is expressive, generous and quite fun.
Stewed fruit is more evident in the mouth, robbing the wine of a sense of freshness and varietal character. If you can get past this, though, there’s certainly some enjoyment to be had. Despite relatively assertive tannins, the structure of this wine is loose, flavour tending to collapse onto the tongue in a generous but messy wave. Perhaps it’s my mood, but the flavour profile as a whole seems tangled, and I’m having trouble resolving the individual elements in amongst a crowded, yet indistinct, mass of elements. The after palate thins somewhat, allowing a bit of heat to emerge on the finish.
I’m tasting this wine critically, so it’s probably fair to say the observations I’ve made will matter very little to someone looking for a flavoursome dry red to throw back on a weekday evening. In this functional role it performs admirably. 

Ballandean Estate
Price: $A14.25
Closure: Cork

Montes Limited Selection Cabernet Sauvignon Carménère 2007

After a couple of lackluster Pinots, I’m enjoying this generously flavoured Chilean wine very much. I bought this wine is because it is 30% Carménère, a variety once linked with Bordeaux but now associated primarily with Chile. And it was cheap.

Turns out it’s also really good and full of interest. Rich, Cabernet-dominant nose that reeks of overgrown gardens and ripe berries, though with a rich, chocolatey dimension that counters the angularity of the vegetation and adds depth and plushness to the aroma profile. There’s also a meaty, barnyard element that sits in the background. Unlike some Cabernets, this doesn’t come across as intellectual so much as a strong yet luscious. 
Medium to full bodied, there’s immediate satisfaction on entry; dark berries and bitter chocolate and just enough of a herbal edge to generate some tension. Really, though, this is as hedonistic as Cabernet gets; by the time the middle palate arrives, you’re pretty much just enjoying a wash of dense berry flavour and a mouthfeel that modulates between roundness and furry tannin texture. A nice burst of Hubba Bubba on the after palate, some more chocolate and just a hint of oak, then a decent finish to round things off.
This is in many respects an ideal budget wine. It doesn’t scale any heights of complexity or intensity, but it has character and outstanding drinkability. 

Viña Montes
Price: $A14.25
Closure: Cork

Best's Great Western Cabernet Sauvignon 2000

Wines that prompt me to respond on a level other than the blandly objective are what I hope for each time I open a bottle. This anticipation is always heightened when I taste an older wine. After all, we cellar wines in the hope they will improve and reach the point of maximum pleasure. When writing about such wines, and to paraphrase (or perhaps misuse) Edward Said, I think it’s appropriate to communicate a “sense of the pleasure taken in having tried at least to meet the [wine] on some other level than the ruthlessly evaluative or the flatteringly appreciative.”

What of this bottle, then? It’s an old wine in all the best ways, though it does remind me of why they are such an acquired taste. There are very few hooks here, nothing obvious on which to hang one’s discernment. Indeed, the nose is delicate and hushed, lightweight really, smelling as much like an abandoned hope chest as a Cabernet. Everything is hinted at; old cedar wood, a wisp of vanilla, watercolour red fruit and light spice. It’s an aroma that only makes sense when you step back and understand its subtle flirtatiousness. Incredibly elegant, if not massively complex.

The palate does not speak in quite such muted tones. At first, an impression of some youth, mostly due to drying tannins that fade a little as the wine gets some air. What they leave behind is a rather beguiling flavour profile whose delicacy reminds me of a good Pinot Noir. It’s quite seamless: red fruits and vanilla ice cream at first, turning slowly to a more savoury expression reminiscent of orange peel as much as berries, moving then to a cedar-centred finish with just a twinge of “old wine” sweetness right at the back of the mouth. A strange set of descriptors perhaps, but totally convincing to me. There’s still a bit of velvet texture on the after palate, so it’s not yet at the stage where it flows in the crystalline manner of fresh water, but it’s not far off.

There’s nothing outstanding about this wine in conventional terms. It’s not ultra intense, nor dense, nor complex. But it’s absolutely worthwhile as a balanced expression of aged Great Western Cabernet Sauvignon, no more nor less. I’m enjoying it a great deal.

Best’s Wines
Price: $A35.15
Closure: Cork

Lake's Folly Cabernets 2007

This label continues to fascinate me. Tasted over two evenings.

At first, an austere nose comprising cedar, sap, vanilla, and concentrated dark berry fruit. Quite classical in profile and less immediately giving than some young Follies. Still, such complexity in youth is wonderful to see, and the overall impression is of restrained, coiled power. Later, an aroma with fruit more to the fore, greater complexity and some regional influence. It’s never quite plush, each note instead winding its way sinuously around the others in an elegant dance. I’m not done smelling this wine, but the bottle is almost empty.

The palate shows all the classic markers of quality: intensity, complexity, power and structure. This is a real “line and length” wine, though of course these terms don’t speak to personal preference. Luckily for me, it’s my kind of wine. An éclat of flavour on entry, dark berry fruit building towards an astonishingly dense, powerful middle palate. The wine tastes like a concentrate of sorts, which in the abstract might be awful but here works brilliantly, happening as it does within a decidedly medium bodied context; it’s all form and elegance, and the fruit is expressed on these terms, packed with detail and complexity. Despite the intensity, there’s no shred of overripe or raisined flavour. Just delicious berry fruit, mouthwatering sourness, pencil shavings and a hint of leafiness. The finish is especially long and fine, showcasing some quality oak. Although the acid and tannin are very approachable if given a few hours to breathe, the overall impression is of youthful potential. Clearly, there’s sufficient fruit and structure to carry this wine through what I hope will be a positive ageing process. 
Excuse me, but fuck this is good. Perhaps more austere than some I’ve tried, yet the style retains enormous integrity. 13% abv.

Lake’s Folly
Price: $A50
Closure: Cork

Woodlands Margaret Reserve Cabernet Merlot Malbec 2007

Criticism is one of those things that can be as hard to pin down as the object being critiqued. I look at, say, writing on film through the twentieth century and it seems to trace a path from James Agee to Cahiers du Cinéma, then from Pauline Kael and Andrew Sarris to… Roger Ebert. In other words, from interdisciplinary critics with an awesome sense of cultural perspective, to an explosive bunch of enthusiasts turned filmmakers intent on discussing film in new ways, to a few iconic, fiercely intellectual writers with hugely influential views on cinema to… thumbs up, thumbs down.

So my narrative is deliberately misleading, as I’m sure there has always existed a plebian form of criticism the purpose of which is mostly to act as a guide for consumers, and that’s ok. There’s a place for it, and I admit that I read Roger Ebert (he worked with Russ Meyer, after all). But as a film nut, I reach for Kael, or Sarris, or the few contemporary icons like Paglia to get my critical thrills. And there seems to me a dearth of writers at the moment who work within an intellectual framework accessible to those without University educations in French Theory (apologies to those readers, and I know you’re out there, with University educations in French Theory) yet whose intent is to progress the conversation on film, rather than to make undemocratic calls on what is worth seeing and what isn’t. And, further, this causes me to wonder whether something like wine, an agricultural product (albeit a rarified one), ought to be discussed in the same manner. It rarely is, and I’d answer immediately “no” based purely on the simplicity of the object, except it goes against my instinct to reduce something created with such deliberate intent, even if from basic raw materials, to equally basic critical terms.

Clearly because I have too much time on my hands, I was wondering about this as I opened the 07 Woodlands Margaret. I’ve read a few reviews of it and they have ranged from utter raves to more measured praise. I wondered on what side I’d fall. Would I love the wine and tell my long suffering readers all about it? Or would I be vaguely disappointed, forced into wondering how I might express this disappointment without being obnoxiously presumptous regarding my own discernment?

Neither, as it turns out, because what interests me about this wine are notions of style, which are perhaps the most subjective, problematic aspects of wine, and consequently the most interesting to me. Wines like this demand to be discussed in critical terms far removed from thumbs up, thumbs down. In an acknowledged good (perhaps great) vintage in Margaret River, producers might no doubt take their pick of how to approach their winemaking. So, it’s especially provocative to taste a wine like this which is determinedly light and delicate, perhaps even marginal in terms of weight and ripeness. It’s almost outrageously aromatic, and as such it is appealing, but the aroma profile is so gamine that calling the wine sexy feels like a form of vinous paedophilia. Very high toned aromas of cedar, gravel, red fruits, bubble gum and flowers. A very slight green edge that seems half varietal and half unripe.

The palate starts in fine form with a nice rush of oak and floral fruit. Light to medium bodied; at least, it appears it will pan out that way until the middle palate seems to die a little death just as you’re wanting to experience petit mort. Even lots of swirling can’t coax much additional substance from the wine, so I’ll need to be satisfied with a marginal sense of dissatisfaction as I taste complex fruit flavours with a nice jammy edge (the Malbec, perhaps?). There’s plenty of acid and very fine, drying tannins so, structurally, we’re in fine territory. Nice long, light, delicate finish.

I’ve no doubt this is the wine that was intended to be made, so drinking it isn’t so much a question of evaluating achievement as it is challenging one’s concept of what Margaret River Cabernet should be. It’s so lean and etched, one can’t help but admire the detail. It reminds me of Kate Moss when she first hit the scene; impossibly thin, with the most beautiful bone structure, yet ethereal to the point of appearing sickly. I wonder if resonant beauty, the sort that makes you fearful and lusty at the same time, needs a bit more flesh on its bones?

Woodlands
Price: $A36.50
Closure: Stelvin

Wynns Coonawarra Estate Johnson's Block Shiraz Cabernet 2003

This wine ticks so many boxes. It’s a single vineyard bottling (tick) celebrating an ostensibly remarkable site (tick) full of old vines (tick) in a classic region that is on the comeback (tick). It’s also a quintessentially Australian blend of Shiraz and Cabernet Sauvignon (tick). What could go wrong?

The answer is: something, but I’m not exactly sure what. It’s not that it’s unenjoyable; I’m finishing the bottle as I type. But I’m feeling unsatisfied somehow, as if the intent behind the wine is mismatched with what ended up in the bottle, promising a level of interest and sophistication that just isn’t there.

Perhaps I should just focus on what’s in my glass. It’s my second night with this wine. The first was characterised by a sweetness of fruit that was, frankly, unbalanced with respect to the oak character and marginalised savoury complexity. After being open for a while, it’s showing to greater advantage. The nose strikes me as heavily influenced by the Cabernet component, with a distinct leafiness sitting atop cedar oak and deep berry fruit. It is composed and just restrained enough to create tension and some mystery.

The palate, thankfully, is calmer in fruit character than yesterday, though still deeply sweet in profile. Bright red fruit has been replaced by a compote of darker berries doused in vanilla cream oak. In contrast to the nose, the Shiraz appears dominant on the palate, contributing generous blackberry jam fruit flavour. The oak is borderline overdone for my taste, though I must admit it appears of high quality and is delicious in its own right. I’m missing a sense of detail and complexity, and the wine is bludgeoning me a little with its density and flavour profile. Thankfully, a sweep of acidity livens up the after palate, in conjunction with well-structured, abundant tannins. I’m sure one could leave this wine alone for a few more years yet if so inclined. In fact, I suspect that’s the ticket to greater interest. Perhaps those with greater exposure to old Coonawarra wines can chime in here.

Wynns Coonawarra Estate
Price: $A35
Closure: Cork

Amberley First Selection Cabernet Sauvignon 2002

An inviting, lush nose with just a hint of varietal leafiness. It’s not the gravel-fest one might expect from Margaret River Cabernet but, if you can get past the absence of outré regional character, the aroma profile is gently approachable and attractive. Good complexity, with oak playing a relatively prominent role in vanilla custard mode. The fruit character seems rounded rather than intellectual and angular, perhaps a function of bottle age as well as style.