Swinging Bridge m.a.w. Single Vineyard Pinot Noir 2012

Now we’re talking. I like this a great deal more than the companion single vineyard Chardonnay. It has character, a bit of wildness and, most of all, the sort of distinctiveness that is its own justification.

The aroma is totally Pinot in its least plush, most sinewy mode. Sap, sous-bois, spice, orange peel and crunchy red fruit. There’s a good deal of complexity, but what I like most is its sense of abandon. This is a wine that’s barely in control, and that makes for some exciting tension within the aroma. This all leads me to suspect a rather acid-driven wine in the mouth, yet it’s far from overly structural. In fact, there’s a certain plushness within the context of a light to medium bodied wine, and that helps the predominantly high toned flavours to fully express themselves. Oak provides some nice flavour inputs, deepening the wine’s registers a little. Length is merely adequate.

This is a very one-sided wine: flavours are pitched at a certain level, body is light, intensity only moderate. Yet it clearly comes from somewhere specific, and therein lies its value and interest. Most worthwhile.

Swinging Bridge
Price: $38
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Swinging Bridge Mrs Payten Single Vineyard Chardonnay 2012

I want to love every wine I taste. It seems to me there’d be no greater pleasure for a wine enthusiast than to find in each wine, familiar or not, a world of pleasure and revelation. Wines that fall short, then, aren’t just less enjoyable, they’re a little bit heartbreaking too.

Wines often brashly flash their most prominent assets — single vineyard! old vines! French oak! — and why not? In this age of obligatory opinions, snap judgements and forced rankings, producers must surely feel they are putting their wines into the vinous equivalent of a speed dating night, if not a boxing ring. You’ve got mere seconds to establish credibility and generate an attraction. So I don’t begrudge the, of late, spectacular proliferation of single vineyard wines in Australia. I will note, though, that a single vineyard wine, for me, creates a certain expectation. Of distinctiveness perhaps, and quality too, something worth singling out. I approach this wine, then, with heightened anticipation.

So as it presents as slightly blurry, without sufficient articulation of and insight into the flavours it obviously has, I feel frustrated by the opaque view it gives me of its raison d’être – the vineyard from which it came. It’s far from generic tasting, and there are some funky flavours atop fruit that veers between ripe pineapple and much more nuanced, savoury citrus. There are also darker notes that speak of lees and a certain minerality. But there’s a dull edge to the whole that, for me, obscures each component. Structure is relaxed, robbing the wine of tension and fattening its mid-palate, although I do like the chalky texture through the finish. There’s also a lack of intensity to the fruit, making the wine feel like it’s playing too quietly to get me moving. I just want more — more intensity, more definition, more overt distinctiveness. I want this wine to sing its vineyard, so I can hear its colours and enjoy its view.

It might fairly accuse me of not being a good listener; I’m just a bit sad about what we could’ve been, this wine and me.

Swinging Bridge
Price: $32
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Bloodwood Chardonnay 2010

I like it when wines surprise me, whether it’s a matter of quality or, as with this wine, by showing unexpected dimensions that lift it beyond what I initially believe it to be. This wine, from relatively old vines in the Orange region, is one of two produced by Bloodwood. The other, labelled Schubert, seems intended to be the more outré in style (I’ve not tasted it).

Orange tends to cool climate due to the elevation of its vineyards, so it’s no surprise the aroma here is in a fairly restrained mode, with white rather than yellow stonefruit and aromas tending towards taut flintiness. It’s firmly fruit-driven, though, and quite straightforward as a result.

The palate is what surprises me about this wine. On the basis of the nose, I expected a straightforward flavour profile and equally simple mouthfeel, but this really takes off, texturally. On entry, it slips and slides with stonefruit, but from the mid-palate onwards a nice, raspy mouthfeel creeps in, along with a corresponding tightening of flavour profile, such that the wine ends up expressing tangy aniseed and a sea spray freshness alongside its bright fruit. That salty-sweet tang echoes the addictive qualities of something like Dutch licorice and strikes me quite distinctive. It’s a nice story on the palate and helps this wine to be both more refreshing and more delicious.

Bloodwood
Price: $A27
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Matison Wines The Kirk Pinot Noir 2010

Some wines taste a bit wild, and I don’t use that word as a euphemism for faulty. These are the wines that leap from the glass with abandon and offer aromas that suggest the forest floor, freshly picked wildflowers and other, not-quite-tamed scents. While not always appropriate, I’ve always appreciated Pinot Noir that shows this character, and feel it can be a great red carpet to Pinot’s often heady show.

This is one such wild Pinot. The aroma offers a mix of slightly feral vegetal aromatics and fresh fruits of the forest. It’s sappy, pithy and shows sensitive oak input. The overall profile is high toned and chaotic, but for me its vibrancy outweighs any lack of composure.

The palate shows a similar flavour profile, with quite masculine, blocky fruit flavours and some forest floor. Structure is firm and attractive, acid juicy and tannins fun and a bit unpredictable in profile. Although it lacks some intensity, this is a charismatic wine in the mouth.

Not a wine of great refinement, but it is compelling and fresh and I like it a lot.

Matison Wines
Price: $A35
Closure: Diam
Source: Sample

Ross Hill Pinnacle Series Sauvignon Blanc 2011

It’s turning summery all of a sudden here in Brisbane, which has reminded me with a slight pang of guilt that I have not yet trimmed my passionfruit vines. Not a metaphor. It has also reminded me that I’ve had this wine for a little while, waiting to be tasted. There aren’t too many $30 Sauvignon Blancs from Orange, let alone ones that have experienced some fancier treatment in the winery like whole bunch pressing and wild fermentation. I’m curious.

Yet again, the whites from Orange impress. This is a long way from the pungency of Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc, and an equally long way from tropical fruit basket that some of our regions tend to express. It’s lean and tight, as much suggestion as flesh, edging on green without being offensively unripe. It’s marginal in the positive sense, communicating the effort with which it was brought into being.

The palate is equally taut, a nice line of citrus fruit and heady vegetation riding fine, bright acid. There’s definitely some funk here, perhaps a result of the wild fermentation, that pushes this wine’s flavour profile into distinctive territory. There aren’t any magic tricks; the wine still lacks presence through the after palate, but that goes with the territory with this varietal. What’s here is clever and interesting.

It’s so nice to come across a Sauvignon Blanc that tries to be something new.

Ross Hill Wines
Price: $A30
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

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

Ross Hill Pinnacle Series Pinot Gris 2011

For a region to do Pinot Gris especially well may seem like a dubious claim to fame (sort of like the Hunter doing great Verdelho). I think Orange does a great line in this difficult varietal, though. The examples I’ve tasted have, for the most part, avoided the many traps this style can fall into: too neutral, too hot, too fat, and so on. This one is no exception – I like it a lot.

A full nose showing nashi pear, spice and a range of interesting, more herbal notes. It’s certainly not the last word in complexity (nor would I expect it to be) but it’s generous and poised, never tipping over into the kind of coarseness that I find especially destructive with this style. The aroma seems to have texture, which sounds odd but I think results from the way spice is woven through the fruit, creating spikes and valleys of aroma. It’s a very happy smell.

The palate shows controlled body and fullness of fruit flavour, along with sufficient acid to give the wine shape and flow. Entry is cool and subtle, building to a middle palate full of yellow fruits, spice and flowers. The fruit is somewhat one-dimensional in flavour, but it’s correct and well proportioned. I like the way a range of higher toned aromas seem to hit the top of my mouth with each sip. Flavour persists through the after palate, where it remains mercifully unmolested by alcohol (this is only 12.5% ABV).

Good Gris.

Ross Hill Wines
Price: $A30
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Ross Hill Pinnacle Series Cabernet Sauvignon 2010

Quite an intense, attention grabbing nose full of fruit, leaf and spice. It’s recognisably Cabernet in terms of fruit but also in its angular muscularity; this is not a cuddly aroma profile. Its relative fullness and power reminds me of another recently tasted Orange Cabernet, the Swinging Bridge. If this is where the region’s Cabernets are heading then I am all in flavour. What this doesn’t have, though, is an especially elegant demeanor, nor does it possess that last ounce of definition. Still, I like the way it smells.

The palate is clean and lean, not in terms of lacking flavour (quite the opposite) but in its tight run down the tongue. This is not an expansive wine, at least not yet, and its expression remains focused and brisk. The fruit is dark and varietal, if lacking some detail. The one moment it allows itself to relax a little is towards the back of the mouth, where flavour fans out through the finish. There is a substantial oak influence, and its sappy character comes across as slightly raw. That, combined with a firm acid structure, make this a more challenging drink now than I suspect it will be in five or so years’ time. Some heat mars the finish by stripping the fruit flavours somewhat.

Very young, this needs to loosen up a bit before it will be truly enjoyable. I hope the oak steps back in time and allows the impressively intense, quite delicious fruit to shine.

Ross Hill Wines
Price: $A40
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

Swinging Bridge Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon 2010

Now we’re talking. Although a youngster — somewhat gangly and awkward for now — this wine is stylistically resolved in a way the companion Shiraz isn’t.

The aroma is distinctly Cabernet but in a way I’ve not smelled before. The signature aromas of the varietal are there — clean dark fruits, heady crushed leaf — in addition to some pretty sexy cedar oak. But there’s a richness to the fruit that smells distinctive, and a hint of black pepper that seems to have wandered in, happily, from an adjoining Shiraz ferment. As I mentioned, it’s a bit disjointed at the moment, but I suspect it will converge on something more poised with a few months in bottle.

The palate is appropriately powerful, and what stands out most is a satisfyingly tannic structure. Three cheers for Cabernet that is not afraid to be both medium bodied and astringently bold through the finish. Flavours are very much per the nose, squeaky clean and vivid. There is perhaps a slight lack of subtlety to the flavour profile, though one might equally praise its vivacity and punch. Fabulously fine, abundant tannins descend through the after palate and become the centrepiece of the wine as it winds its way to a lengthy finish.

A distinctive and delicious wine. An ounce of extra refinement wouldn’t go astray, but I like the direction this is taking.

Swinging Bridge
Price: $A45
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample