Domaine Rapet Père et Fils Pernand-Vergelesses Les Combottes 2005

After a rather poor run of white Burgundies, I was half expecting this to be oxidised, corked or both. Happily, and despite a rather spongy cork, this is in excellent condition. In fact, its fruit is remarkably vibrant and is a real feature of this wine.

Primary fruit, though, isn’t the first impression this wine makes. Rather, a mix of aromas deriving from winemaker input emerge from the glass first, and I let out a little cheer for highly interventionist winemaking when I gave it a good sniff. Chardonnay is, let’s face it, often ripe for a bit of rough handling, and styles like this justify such treatment. Nougat, caramel, oats, cream. It’s a tight aroma despite the range of notes, and I like how its aromas feel packed into a small space, jostling for attention, a little rambunctious perhaps but in their own way disciplined. Fruit is there, pushing through; when it breaks out, I see crisp grapefruit and hints of fuller white stone fruit.

The palate’s acid structure echoes the coiled aroma and complements the character of the fruit. Here, as with the nose, the vibe is complex and fresh at the same time. Again, there are caramel, nuts, nougat and citrus fruit, wrapped in a savouriness that sings of acid minerality. Texture is a comparative let-down, and I feel a wine with this sort of flavour profile and structure deserves more textural interest. As it is, a slippery, full, somewhat one-dimentional mouthfeel. It’s not a ruinous feature, though; there’s more than enough flavour interest and intensity to make this wine a very enjoyable one.

Good value wine.

Domaine Rapet Père et Fils
Price: $A30
Closure: Cork
Source: Retail

Domaine Rapet Père et Fils Pernand 1er Cru Le Clos du Village 2000

Rather too oxidised to be fully enjoyable, I’ll write this up for completeness’ sake. And because I worked my customary magic on the rather crumbly cork.

The colour is an attractive golden straw. The nose immediately betrays excessive oxidation – whether it affects just this bottle or the wine generally is something I’m not in a position to know. I tasted a similar wine (vintage, producer, classification) in 2009 and it was on song. In any case, that softly rancid brown apple aroma pervades an otherwise rather attractive, fruit-driven profile that seems quite cuddly but with a savoury, herbal edge.

The palate shows good acid and crisp flow down the line. There’s enough fruit here for me to know this would have been a nice wine, once. Good weight and generosity of flavour – the fruit tends towards white stonefruit, with a repeat of the herbal, basil-like notes seen on the nose. The palate’s texture is creamy and soft, but not flabby, thanks to that acid.

I wish I had known it in better times.

Domaine Rapet Père et Fils
Price: $A60
Closure: Cork
Source: Retail

Mitchell Harris Sabre Vintage 2008

This has been a long time in the making. I remember talking with John Harris about it a couple of years ago and, even though it was a long way off release, I sensed his excitement. And I feel excited too, because his tenure as sparkling winemaker at Domaine Chandon creates what I feel is a reasonable expectation of quality to this tasting. Mr Harris should know what he’s doing, a fact his still wines have amply demonstrated to me, but to which this wine brings an extra frisson of anticipation.

The nose keeps me excited and shows evidence of the wine’s three years on lees. There’s a clean, pure vibe to the aroma that absorbs bready notes into a matrix of bright fruit, clear juice and the sort of lean florals that aren’t heady so much as piercing. It’s the integration of notes that impresses most – this aroma profile is quite coherent. In the mouth, good texture and relatively fine spritz pave the way for a surprisingly generous set of flavours. The aromatic citrus fruit is as much pulp as rind, and there’s a sense of weight that carries this wine through a few levels of complexity. It’s not the most aggressively savoury wine I’ve ever tasted, and there’s enough sweetness to soften and swell the palate. The sweetness is never intrusive, though, and does not mask an inherently funky streak to the flavour profile. Notes of crusty bread and tropical fruit alternate, vying for first place. Neither wins, but it’s awfully fun to taste them fighting it out.

A very impressive first sparkling release for Mitchell Harris. The maker is serious about this style, and I look forward to the next release.

Mitchell Harris
Price: $A40
Closure: Diam
Source: Sample

Waipara Hills Chardonnay 2011

What with all the Chardonnay play of late, it can be disconcerting to taste an example that isn’t trying to say something new (or old) and bold about how the varietal should taste.

This wine, at first, is self-effacing to the point of blandness. It’s not overtly worked, nor it is self-consciously lean. It’s not much of anything, really, until you realise that it just is, throwing straightforward fruit notes that are part citrus, part stonefruit. It’s totally varietal, if not terribly exuberant in its expression. There’s just a hint of winemaker input in a caramel edge that seems the only embellishment on what is otherwise a pure, fruit-driven style.

The palate maintains the simple purity shown on the nose. It is, again, all about fruit flavours — pineapple, nectarine, lemon. Quite simple and not massively intense, but pretty and unpretentious. Acid is firm and fresh, and the wine fans out softly through the finish in an attractive manner.

In the end, that this wine struck me because it does not sit at a stylistic extreme perhaps says more about me than the wine. It’s nice, though, to taste a straightforward Chardonnay now and then. A pretty antidote to all the fuss.

Waipara Hills
Price: $A22
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Stefano Lubiana Estate Chardonnay 2010

A fascinating companion to the Estate Pinot Noir from 2010, this swings in altogether a different direction. Where the Pinot is a brooding, masculine style, this becons more openly, flaunting its charms with little reserve.

The nose gives its game away quickly. At a time when many Australian Chardonnays are shedding pounds in the pursuit of a lithe line, this wine positively flops into one’s nostrils, offering full stonefruit, spice, caramel and other luscious aromas. Don’t let me be misunderstood, though; I have a lot of time for more opulent Chardonnay styles, and feel at their best they represent the apex of the grape. A few sniffs suggests this might be a good one, as there is good complexity and harmony amongst the wine’s aromas. I particularly enjoy the hint of struck match that sneaks in alongside more fruit-oriented notes.

The palate contains these flavours in a framework that is tauter than one might expect. There’s real shape and flow here, thanks in part to an acid line that is fine but firm where it needs to be (notably through the after palate). The wine is mouthfilling, due in turn to the intensity of its flavour and a certainly slipperiness of mouthfeel. There are some prickly, refreshingly bitter phenolics too, which add a nice twist to the flavour profile. Spiced oak sings through the finish.

Not a wine of subtlety, then, but quite delicious and cleverly balanced. I like it.

Stefano Lubiana Wines
Price: $A48-50
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Domaine de la Bongran Viré Clessé Cuvée Tradition 2002

I have a few Jean Thévenet wines in my cellar and they always provide a completely different view of white Burgundy from pretty much anything else. This wine, from the Mâconnais, is startlingly young for its age and shows the distinctive, botrytis-tinged character that I’ve come to enjoy from Thévenet.

I experienced not-entirely-irrational anxiety as I was opening this wine, based partly on a ridiculously oxidised 2005 white Burgundy I was excited, then disappointed, about last week. This wine’s cork, on extraction, proved to be long and of an apparently high quality. Colour in the glass is beautifully golden, with not a hint of the distressing brown hue that I had feared. So far so good.

What’s really enjoyable about this wine is how it flips between the mineral-driven austerity of tighter Chardonnay styles and the opulence granted it by a hint of residual sugar and botrytis. The palate is grippy and textural, combining with a grapefruit-accented flavour profile to give the impression of pith and pips. So it moves between modes, tight then loose, acid and slight bitterness an intriguing foil to notes of marmalade and richer, riper fruit. If there’s something missing here, it relates to intensity of both aroma and flavour. This isn’t a blockbuster as its 14% ABV and slightly hot finish might suggest. Instead, the wine’s demeanour is laid back, and I suspect what it loses in impact it makes up for in food friendliness.

Cleverly made and provocative in style. Given its freshness, I might taste this again in a few years’ time.

Domaine de la Bongran
Price: $35 (ish)
Closure: Cork
Source: Retail

Ross Hill Pinnacle Series Chardonnay 2011

When I taste a Chardonnay nowadays, my mind seems first to go to the style in which it has been made. There seems much more variety within as well as between regions compared to many other varietals. My view is that this stylistic variation is a reflection of how unsettled we are with respect to the grape, and that style is sometimes seen as synonymous with quality (or lack thereof). Ultimately, that’s a distraction that stops us from seeing these wines for what they are.

And yet I do it too and, as I sniffed this wine, I was first most curious to know how worked a style it is. The answer is: pretty worked. The nose is very young-smelling, with pineapple and grapefruit notes in equal measure. underpinned by determinedly funky smells and a lot of oatmeal. The aromas exist in layers at the moment, not intermingling as much as they might, and perhaps will with a bit of time. It’s a vibrant aroma profile, though.

The palate is, initially, overwhelming and unbalanced in its texture. It’s as if a big ball of oatmeal protrudes in the middle palate, rudely dwarfing everything else around it. This feeling never quite goes away, but the wine’s dimensions do balance out with some air, and this allows citrus and light tropical fruit flavours to emerge with the same clarity and crispness seen on the nose. Intensity is decent, especially through the after palate, where citrus flavours are joined by some nice herbal, basil-like notes. Despite the texture being quite worked, the wine isn’t over complex in flavour. Good thrust and aromatics through the finish.

Not entirely convincing, then, but there’s no getting away from the power of that fruit. I wonder what this would be like if it were made in a purer, simpler way?

Ross Hill Wines
Price: $A35
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Cumulus Chardonnay 2010

Although deeply problematic, one of the most positively provocative aspects of Jonathan Nossiter’s book, Liquid Memory, is its questioning of the manner in which we talk about wine. I’ve half-written a post expanding on these thoughts, and who knows if I’ll ever finish it; I have, though, been more mindful since reading Mr Nossiter’s book of the part, however small, I play in privileging a particular sort of wine conversation, one that centres on descriptors and a particularly banal narrative of wine, over a more aesthetically inclined view, in which one puts one’s self and one’s reaction to a given wine above a purely descriptive story of tasting.

This wine prompts me to think of such things because there’s a schism between what I taste and how I feel. What I smell, first, is an incredibly clean wine with a range of aromas that is textbook with regard to how a cooler climate Chardonnay ought to taste. There’s clean citrus fruit, a hint of white peach and the sort of tasteful, just-savoury-enough winemaking artifact to trigger an appreciative reaction. This wine is, in its way, perfectly formed, and I have no wish to deny the achievement associated with it (goodness knows I’m an expert in the art of fucking up winemaking). Yet I’m unmoved by it, in the same way I might pass yet another cleanly executed minimalist interior without so much as a “wow.” What is, I wonder, the point of such lithe shapeliness? What is there for me to grab hold of and caress?

The palate is, again, beautifully executed. The oatmeal flavours are a real feature of the wine, taking quite severe fruit flavours and granting them dimension and texture. Balance is exceptional, as is shape and line. This really is a good wine, well-judged and full of inherent quality. It’s just that I’m desperate for something human and sensual, a flaw or outsize dimension to give me an aesthetic hook on which to hang my own sense of beauty. It’s as if I’m not good enough for this wine, that it doesn’t care especially if I like it or not. But, in a profound sense, I need a wine to need me back, otherwise there’s no dialogue, no reason to stick around and keep talking.

This wine deserves the deepest admiration for provoking such a reaction. A second date, however, is out of the question.

Cumulus Wines
Price: $A30
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Chapel Hill Chardonnay 2011

To be cruel for a moment, this is most unpromising on paper. Mixing Chardonnay, affordability and more than one region doesn’t usually get the wine lover’s heart racing, with some justification, at least historically. And before you get excited, this isn’t Giaconda Chardonnay hiding out in the McLaren Vale. However, it’s a good example of the sensitivity with which this sort of mainstream wine ought to be made, and makes a case for the relevance of cheap Australian Chardonnay in a world where such wines are the very definition of undesirable.

Its trick is to combine relative restraint with a certain flow and softness. This is a watercolour wine, one whose definition is hazy but whose colours are quite charming in a lazy, easy way. On the nose, some fresh citrus alongside soft peach and rockmelon. There’s a bit of nougat oak too, and perhaps some caramel. Complexity isn’t a word that springs to mind; there are several flavours but to see the wine on these terms is to miss its point.

The palate has such a relaxed flow over the tongue. It’s quite voluptuous and mouthfilling in a breast implant sort of way: fleshy but also a tad hollow. The fruit lacks sufficient intensity to fill out the wine’s ambitious dimensions, and one is left tasting flavour at the edges and a slight absence of such in the middle. The flavours that are here, though, are balanced and easy, with more white peach and nougat, and just a hint of butterscotch. It’s far from the perfect wine and undoubtedly made to a price point. There’s a sophistication of approach underlying this wine, though, which is easy to miss. How many cheap Chardonnays show vulgar dimensions, a lack of freshness, easy oak, or a reliance on malolactic fermentation? This wine avoids all these pitfalls and, in so doing, manages to be a very pleasant, pretty wine.

Not bad at all.

Chapel Hill
Price: $A16
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Cullen Kevin John Chardonnay 2007

Somewhat of a showstopper. To be sure, this is in some respects a no holds barred wine, with what appears to be plenty of winemaking contributing to its flavour profile. The nose shows an enthusiastic cascade of aromas, ranging from popcorn and butter through stonefruit, more tropical fruit notes, lemon, minerals, and plenty of toasty oak. I list this number of descriptors to give a feel for the amount of stuff going on here; there’s genuine complexity in both fruit and winemaking inputs, and as I smell this I’m reminded of why Chardonnay is often considered the greatest of all white grapes. Few varietals could take this treatment and come out looking good.

The palate is an absolute powerhouse, but what I like most here is that all its flavours are so cleanly, precisely expressed within an frame that is as contained as it is impactful. There’s something beautiful about power so tightly focused, and the way this wine unfolds in the mouth is its primary pleasure. As much sophistication as there is by way of individual flavours, there’s also a surprisingly louche side to the fruit here, pushing against a tropical, pineapple note that I found amusing in this context.

This will surely polarise drinkers, and that’s okay, because there’s great value in an unapologetic style made with skill and integrity.

Cullen
Price: $A110 (restaurant wine list)
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Retail