Don’t laugh, but I sniffed this the second I unscrewed the cap and thought whoa. What is this, Gucci for Men? It’s got a full on nose of sandalwood, with a curious scent of camphor and velvet as well. I’ve never smelled a wine like this before. How the hell did they make this stuff? It’s just so huge, so jammy… amazing, and somehow floral as well. Raspberries and roses?It’s so dark that it looks like it should be in a Mont Blanc bottle. Taste-wise, it’s again pretty damn big: brooding, dark, earthy, and with an almost medicinal, herbal, minty edge to it. Amazingly, it doesn’t feel particularly alcoholic, which is a huge surprise given that this is supposedly in the 16-17% range: the finish is not hot, but very well balanced and exceedingly smooth, tapering off into a woodsy, sweet trail of incense and spice. It all works surprisingly well.SuxxPrice: US $16.99Closure: StelvinDate tasted: December 2007

On the nose, it’s hard to move beyond a sort of “21st century rich Australian wine made for an American market” kind of smell. There’s a bit of rich jammy road tar, lots of dark indifferent fruit, a certain sweetness, and finally a sort of menthol-eucalyptus smell. It’s all vaguely like those old-timey cherry flavored throat lozenges with the two bearded men on them – almost a 19th century home remedy effect. But I’m half joking here; it’s actually deeply inviting and all very comforting somehow.

In the mouth, the first thing that hits you is the humongousosity of the wine: it feels like you’ve just filled your mouth with the most Brobdingagian thing that’s ever sat around inside of a bottle. Rich and sweet, swallowing really doesn’t get you anything other than a sense of alcohol burning – I do occasionally drink bourbon, and this stuff holds its own, mouth-on-fire-wise, with many bourbons. Coming back to it again, other than a lovely, smooth, silken mouth feel, there just doesn’t seem to be a whole lot going on in terms of actual flavor – although there is just a tang of salty sourness there which adds an interesting note. With time, it starts to mimic a sort of dark raspberry liqueur – it’s so strong and so thick that it’s occasionally hard to believe that this is supposed to be a table wine.

So how do I feel about this sort of thing? Well… against my better instincts (and four months of wine school), I like it just fine. It’s huge, rich, jammy, alcoholic, and trashy in the best possible kind of way. It’s kind of like going to a kegger wearing a toga and then finding out that it’s Duvel on tap (and not Milwaukee’s Best). Sometimes the thing that hits the spot after a hard day at work is booze, plain and simple, and if you’re going to be drinking, you might as well be drinking something that feels good and tastes like it wasn’t cheap to produce. Save your intellectually satisfying Hermitage and your ethereal Côte Rôtie for another time – this wine is all about getting your freak on with a stylish bottle that probably got a bazillion points from The Bob.

Marquis Philips
Price: US $11.89
Closure: Stelvin
Date tasted: November 2007

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I had to cheat and look, and yup, Bob likes this stuff, having given it 92 points. Apparently it’s barrel fermented and then raised in American oak, but I swear I can’t tell: all that alcohol (15.5%) tends to deaden my palate. For you obsessive types, it’s interesting to know that the Marquis in the name is no longer relevant: Sarah and Sparky Marquis, who used to make this wine with US importer Dan Philips of The Grateful Palate, have departed for Mollydooker – the few of their wines I’ve tried seem to follow the same template of huge alcohol, huge fruit, huge Bob scores, and good after work drinking satsifaction.