Clayfield Thomas Wills Shiraz NV

Browsing back through my notes, I see I never wrote up the 2008 Thomas Wills Shiraz in a comprehensive manner, though my first impressions are to be found within this post on Clayfield’s range as a whole. This wine forms part of an emerging collection of labels the makers of which seem intent on engaging more deeply with the regional and stylistic histories within which they are working. I’m thinking of the Mountain X project, for example, as well as producers like The Story, who are applying modern thinking about terroir and style to ultra-traditional regions such as the Grampians.

In the case of this wine, Clayfield takes inspiration from an idea of what wine might have been like one hundred years ago in the Grampians. Whether real or imagined, the style is full-throttle and robust, very much take no prisoners in vibe. It has been especially interesting to show the 2008 to several friends over the past months. Their reactions have been far from neutral, and on the whole very positive, which suggests an earthy appeal to its powerful delivery of flavour. Alcohol levels approaching 16% abv also provoked interest, though my feeling was the wine held its heat perfectly well.

To this, the current release. Unusually, Clayfield has taken a non-vintage approach, blending material from the 2008 and 2010 vintages and, although the same liquerous earthiness I liked so much in the 2008 remains present, this release has a degree of finesse that elevates it above the previous wine.

The nose is heady with ultra-ripe plums, hints of dry earth and a whole rack of brown spices. Those looking for a peppery expression of Grampians Shiraz may not find what they’re looking for here. However, this is clearly a wine of the region, and the character of the fruit is, in particular, highly regional. There’s something extremely cuddly about the way this smells; like a prickly wool jumper. It’s not a regressive or simple aroma profile, though; its emphasis on powerfully savoury plums and rich spice is both complex and sophisticated.

The palate is where this wine departs most from its predecessor. There’s a whole dimension of detail and finesse here that wasn’t present before, and this brings another level of pleasure to what remains a muscular wine. It’s as if all the brawn has more shape and definition this year, transforming from a slightly brutish physique to one with some dashing and swing. One must put this into context, though; the flavour profile remains idiosyncratic and quite rustic, full of ripe plums, bark and spice. In particular, the tannins recall the 2008, coarse-grained and prickly, sweet and spiky.

If you liked the rough and ready vibe of the 2008, you may miss a degree of wildness in this wine. For my palate, though, this is the superior release, blending the same intensity and power with a finer flow through the mouth. This label remains a daring experiment, albeit one whose maker is clearly intent on refining year after year. This is a lot of wine for $35.

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

Yelland & Papps Delight Grenache Shiraz 2009

This is a very tidy release from Yelland & Papps. Increasingly, I’m interested in the wines I choose and the reasons why I might feel like one style versus another. Tonight, I didn’t want to be challenged. I wanted a wine to caress my palate with generosity and warmth, ripe fruit, lighter coloured berries. The trade-off with these styles can often involve limited complexity and an obviousness of structure that can mitigate one’s full enjoyment. But I reckon this one’s got it about right.

There’s no doubt this is is a buxom, fruit-driven wine, as befits its varieties and regional origins. The nose is full of stewed plums, fresh raspberries and other fleshy fruits, all tinged with a hint of earthiness and the sort of alcohol heat that may be objectionable to some but to me, tonight, promises guilty enjoyment. But it’s the fruit that’s the star in this aroma profile, pulpy and ripe and more than a bit loose.

The palate is a genuine continuation of the nose, flavours translating authentically to middle and after palates of some lushness. It’s not as intense as one might like, and this fact leaves me wanting a little more with each sip. So, in this sense, the wine never fully delivers on its olfactory promise. No matter; a slippery mouthfeel adds the requisite sense of luxe to one’s experience, and there’s enough prickly acidity to prevent ripe plum and red berries from overstaying their welcome. Slight, powdery tannins overlay a finish that is part heat and part hollow. It’s all over much too quickly.

I’m enjoying this beyond what is reasonable and, despite its flaws, feel this really works.

Yelland & Papps
Price: $A19.95
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Stanton & Killeen Vintage Port 2001

A tasting earlier this year at the Stanton & Killeen cellar door was notable for a lineup of quite spectacular vintage ports (and for the relative lack of excitement generated by its muscats and tokays, usually the highlight of any Rutherglen cellar door). These wines are interesting in part through their mixing of Portuguese grape varieties with Shiraz, traditionally used in Australian VP styles, and Durif, a variety strongly associated with the Rutherglen. What’s pleasing is how achieved the resultant wines can be.

A light yet piercing, complex aroma showing grilled nuts, dried fruits, old wood, and a streak of banana-skin freshness that I’m probably describing badly but which strikes me as distinctive and attractive. In short, there’s plenty going on, yet there’s a mellow, relaxed vibe to the whole that suggests settled confidence and encourages contemplative consumption.

The palate is again both light and powerful. The wine’s essentially savoury character established by the aroma carries through here, with few stylistic concessions to the Shiraz component. Indeed, this is very far from a typical Shiraz VP, a style I happen to love but which typically shows much richer, fuller fruit flavours than are present here. So, the key to enjoying this is to observe more delicate flavour components and savour the transparency that comes with lighter wines. Deliciously savoury fruits, peel, nuts, nougat. A well-balanced line that maintains strength right through the rather long finish.

I had this with some plum pudding on the big day, and it was somewhat overwhelmed. It’s much better tonight on its own, a light yet utterly indulgent dessert.

Stanton & Killeen
Price: $A28
Closure: Cork
Source: Retail

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

Clonakilla Shiraz Viognier 1998

A couple of weeks back, I finally, finally got around to inventorying all of the wine that’s stashed around the house (and in the garage). The single most important thing I learned? I have way, way too much wine. (Duh.) Most surprising of all, however, was coming to the realization that I had a few things in the dodgy wine fridge in the garage that I had completely forgotten about. Case of 2002 Petaluma riesling? Check. Six pack of 1998 Clonakilla s/v that presumably came from the closeout bin somewhere, complete with discounted price stickers? Check. Why I didn’t realize this earlier, I have absolutely no idea. So what to with this stuff? Easy: Drink it.

This wine doesn’t look remarkably old; the cork was in good shape and it’d been carefully cellared for a good long time. It’s beautiful to look at, with some browning towards the rim, but more importantly it’s got that lovely sort of finely particulate look that I for whatever reason enjoy. On the nose, this smells like nothing so much as Cornas. Honestly. It’s got just a hint of rich, dark syrah fruit – but over and above that it’s got real minerality, charred back bacon, dried violets, and the smell of rye bread baked over an open fire, giving it a roasted, charry, smoky effect.

Upon entry, the first thing that strikes me is the relatively light feel of the wine, combined with a surprise sourness. However, given time and attention, the palate does fill out, balancing the sourness with bright, sharp red fruit. Tannins are still very much present, but nicely silken and restrained at this point; there also seems to be just a hint of cocoa on the finish, which gracefully declines into a lively, babble of sweet cherry fruit and spicy, earthy meats.

I don’t know what this wine was like when it was younger; a lot’s happened since these grapes were harvested. There is a real beauty to this wine, though, and although it may not be the most complex or enthralling Clonakilla I’ve tasted, it still has moments of transcendence and beauty to offer.

Clonakilla
Price: $30
Closure: Cork
Source: Retail

Mount Langi Ghiran Langi Shiraz 2007

This label, long iconic, has caused an even greater sensation of late, the 2008 vintage having recently been named the Penguin Wine Guide’s wine of the year. I was therefore surprised and happy to see this wine — which was made in extremely limited quantities due, I believe, to frost damage — on a restaurant wine list this week, sporting a relatively small markup. I promptly ordered a bottle and had it decanted an hour or so prior to drinking.

Some of my wine writing colleagues have expressed quite negative reactions to the Langi style, and I can certainly see why. This is a full-throttle wine, quite undeterred by the notion that Grampians Shiraz ought to represent restrained, medium bodied elegance. There are lashings of oak immediately evident on the nose, and these dirty spice flavours combine with regional plum fruit to create a dark, dense aroma profile. This is the Grampians on steroids, all ultra-plum and squishy blackberries, dark spice and wet wood.

The palate is quite acidic, showing plum flesh, brown spice and pepper (black and white). Lots of flavours and good typicité, then. Stylistically, this is dense and muscular to the point of being slightly clumsy, and it’s here that some drinkers may come unstuck. Does this level of density, of oak and of raw power speak of the Grampians? Or does this wine represent a distortion of its region, a twisting of terroir into something barely recognisable? One thing’s for sure, the quality of the fruit here is superb. It’s clear from this and previous vintages tasted the Langi Ghiran site is capable of producing fruit with the most wonderful flavour and structure. Tannins are raw, raspy, completely fabulous and in need of a while more to settle. Whether they will calm in line with fruit flavours remains to be seen; I’ve tasted older Langis that have aged beautifully, and others whose oak has clearly outlived the fruit. No matter; it’s good to drink now with a good decant and appropriate food.

A real statement wine. I rather liked it.

Mount Langi Ghiran
Price: $A98 (wine list)
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Retail

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

Second Nature Cabernet Shiraz Merlot 2009

I hope you have all been enjoying Chris’s recent pieces as much as I have. They have resoundingly made up for the fact that wine has been an infrequent visitor to my household of late, owing to a confluence of circumstances including a pile of study and a lot of travel for work. Tonight, though, I’m home and selected this bottle from the sample pile. Considering it’s a straightforward commercial style, I’ve begun to look forward to this wine each vintage the way one anticipates a favourite local take-away on a Friday evening. You know it’s not going to be haute cuisine, but that doesn’t in any way detract from the generous enjoyment you know you’ll experience.

There’s a big hit of spicy plum and raspberry on the nose, both engorged and nicely detailed, that immediately sets the tone. It’s expressive and heady and not even close to the sort of industrial anonymity that can plague wines at this price point. Indeed, within the confines of the style this is full of character and the smell of vintage conditions, some caramel and slightly overripe fruit contributing personality to the clean, correct aroma profile.

Very well judged on the palate, this wine starts and ends with mouthfilling fruit. In between, there is a range of spice and twig notes and an undercurrent of nougat oak that is set to the right volume. Structure, such as it is, encourages gulps rather than sips. There’s some bright acid and relaxed tannins, sure, but the fruit is so dominant here that one never questions the intent behind the style. This wine is just all about the mid-palate; fleshy, fresh, delicious. It’s not a remarkable wine in any particular way, but it succeeds so well in what it sets out to do that one can’t but praise it wholeheartedly.

Dowie Doole
Price: $A19
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Mollydooker Enchanted Path Shiraz | Cabernet 2007

Yet another Mollydooker wine, yet another custom domain name. Before I begin this time, I’d like to quickly discuss the 2007 Carnival of Love Shiraz, which I finished drinking last night and which led me down a rabbit hole of snide one-liner reviews: Good, but not $85 good. Penfolds St. Henri, but with a shot of grain alcohol. Lovely Shiraz with well-judged oak, but at triple the cost of its competitors. In short, it was a good wine, not great: rich Shiraz fruit without any of the annoying complications of terroir, subliminal oak that helped rather than hindered, once again too much alcohol, and on the whole a perfectly enjoyable wine unless you earn less than six figures and/or prefer moderate alcohol levels, in which case, well, you’re SOL.

Now: on to this wine. Once again, my heartfelt thanks to the good folks at Mollydooker for sending press samples my way; I’m sure they were hoping (as was I) for happy drinking, and I’m pleased to say that I’m finally as near my happy place as I’m going to get. Once again, though, I’ll point out that the cost is well into ridiculous range (you can buy Clonakilla shiraz viognier or Ridge Monte Bello for less money than this), and the alcohol is stratospheric (although thankfully not as noticeable on this wine). And with that, I’m done whingeing. On to the good stuff.

Many, many years ago, shortly before I decided to enroll in the Central Washington University World Wine Program, I attended a tasting in Seattle that was led by the CWU professor responsible for founding their wine program. One of the gentlemen in that afternoon’s tasting – I suspect he was a doctor, lawyer, or someone else with an awful lot of money – expressed concern about a pinot noir’s color – surely something that pale couldn’t possibly taste good? Well, sir, if it’s rich, satisfying, tooth-staining color you like, I’m happy to report that this wine has an awful lot of it, period. Once again we’re dealing with a squid ink black, opaque, monster of a wine, but the color is slightly different than the other Mollydookers: not quite older, but it’s optically slightly less transparent at the rim and with a more usual color to it.

The nose is wonderfully complex; at first, I was reminded of an off-season seaside hotel on the coast of Spain: iodine notes, plus fading fruit, battered wood, fruity esters, the remaining spice from summer guests’ colognes, and all kinds of other interesting things. The one thing I’m reminded of the most is (strangely enough) Comme des Garçons Odeur 53, an avant-garde anti-perfume that is said to contain notes along the lines of ‘dust on a lightbulb’ and ‘pure air of the high mountains’ – in short, lots of highly improbably, artificial things that really shouldn’t be in a perfume. Similarly, not a lot of what I smell in this wine reminds me of traditional wine smells: no obvious Bordeaux toast, raspberry motor oil fruit, etc. Instead, you get a hundred variations on dislocation. There’s a lot here which tends towards the plastic, the cosmetic, the confected, the surreal, but it works just fine in context, strangely enough: at times, it does settle back down into nearly recognizable shiraz-cabernet territory with a whisper of spicy oak, but only briefly.

With alcohol levels this high, the wine does turn hot towards the middle of the palate, which is moderately unpleasant; however, the rich, unctuous, mouth-filling sensuality of the wine is undeniably powerful; even if you’re intellectually opposed to it on grounds of, say, perverting terroir, you’ll still enjoy it, honest. Tannins are forcefully present again, softening slightly, with a slight suggestion of (somehow) harder, unripe tannin that works nicely against the lushness of the fruit. Finally, there’s something almost marine about the very finish… or it could be umami, in which I’m making a very weak connection to seaweed here. It’s definitely porty, with a certain sweetness that goes on for quite a while after swallowing, which might just work with fatty dishes like foie gras.

Taking a tip from their marketing materials, I also tried some of this wine with a handful of Marconi almonds… and they’re dead on correct. Strangely enough, the combination manages to arrive at butter pecan ice cream: rich, creamy fruit with hard, salty nuttiness – absolutely delicious. The salt and fat help cut the alcohol and fruitiness of the wine; I imagine this would be absolutely fantastic with steak.

In short, pretty damn good wine. However, I’ll once again state that there’s too much alcohol, it doesn’t taste like any particular place, and (most importantly) I expect a fully transcendent experience for this kind of money… and it falls short of that. Still, I would gladly drink this … if it were half the price.As an aside: in terms of reviews, I see that this is a Wine Advocate 95 and a Wine Spectator 91. The Spectator is correct: this is a good wine. But the Advocate is just wrong: this is not otherworldly.

Mollydooker
Price: $85
Closure: Cork
Source: Sample

Mollydooker Blue-Eyed Boy Shiraz 2007

One more thing I love about K&L Wine Merchants? They keep a complete order history available at their Web site, which means I can see that I bought a bottle of the 2006 vintage of this wine in their Hollywood store on August 18, 2007. That’s damn cool. I bought it to share with friends at Mozza in LA; that was a memorable birthday lunch, although of the two wines I brought (the other was a 2002 Penfolds Bin 707 cabernet), the Blue-Eyed Boy wasn’t the one that charmed the sommelier.

Anyhow! Here we are again, back in Mollydooker territory. Once again: thank you to the kind folks at Mollydooker who generously sent this wine as a press sample. I’ll begin by noting that the bottle in front of me was opened last Saturday night – which means it’s been open for three days now, although screwcapped and in the fridge for most of that time – and that yes, I did in fact do the ‘Mollydooker Shake’ (not sure if that’s trademarked); the winery suggests that their wines are better after vigorously shaking the bottle to remove traces of nitrogen gas from the wine.

I’ll begin with a quick recap of the tasting group’s notes from Saturday night:

Mark: I like the color. But I’d prefer it with a lot more acidity to it. It’s a style of wine that I recognize… and no, I don’t like it.

Rex: Best wine of the evening so far, but the alcohol level is slightly overpowering Also, the label appeals to <redacted>. I like the wine but I’m troubled by the label.

JP: Trying to figure this out … It feels… thicker? (… than The Boxer shiraz – CP)

Roy: If the others are weaker, I like this one more, it’s got more of a body to it

Henry: Pepper… some cardboard? Lots of tannin for sure. Bitter espresso, smoky chocolate notes?

Me: I like the nose a lot… I feel like all of this wine was destined to go to Dallas. I really feel like the oak is getting in the way of this wine. It’s like it had gross makeup smeared all over the front of it.

Ouch. So: how do I feel about it now? Once again, the color is strikingly dark; it reminds me of flat Hansen’s All Natural Cola, or old-time sarsparailla county fair style (you know, the kind they serve in a metal mug). Kind of pretty. Again, the rim is ‘watery’ (read: this is unconscionably high in alcohol) with a brief twinge of much lighter cherry-red color there, which isn’t particularly anything at all – just thought I’d note it.

Do I still like the nose here? Hard to say. Whatever it was that I smelled Saturday night is fairly well subdued this Tuesday night; what I smell reminds me somewhat of renting a room in a not-often-visited hotel in the mountains, one old enough to have an actual cedar lined closet… that hasn’t been aired out recently. There seems to be some kind of oak here, which imparts a dry, solemn mustiness, but the “explodes in your mouth” (the Marquis’ words, not mine) fruit seems to be strangely somnolent here. Instead, you get a strangely confected, Turkish delight and watermelon bubble gum effect that frankly smells cheap, like perfume sold to tweens. Once again, I find that the alcohol is really getting in the way here; if there were less, it wouldn’t overwhelm the flavors so much, I think. Of course, given the success of Mollydooker and their wines, it’s eminently possible that folks really like the porty, prune-y aspect of this wine.

In terms of mouthfeel, this is much more coherent to me than the ’09 Gigglepot cabernet was. It’s still huge, rich, unctuous, and sweet (not from sugar, but from alcohol, I’m guessing), but the acidity is less shrill, sneaking in to the back palate and offering some respite from the huge-osity here. Tannins are present but discreetly so; they assist the finish with firmly grounded earthiness and are okay, but still slightly hard.

Ultimately, I once again have to say that I don’t really care for this wine. So what’s the problem? Without sounding completely ridiculous, my main problem is that the wine seems to be completely man-made without any kind of historical or terroir-based justification for its existence. More than anything, it exudes a fakeness that I have a really, really hard time dealing with. I’ve had monster Barossa shiraz from the likes of Chris Ringland (cf. First Class shiraz), and there was still a typicity and integrity there that seemed to have come from old vines and judicious use of oak). I’m an unabashed fan of California late harvest zinfandel, which is probably even more alcoholic than this, but again: that style of wine is historically grounded and you don’t have to do too much for it to happen in California (our weather occasionally makes it happen). But Syrah from the McLaren Vale arriving at this particular end point – massive, alcoholic, and fruity in a simple way – just strikes me as, well, wrong. It doesn’t work. For all of the fruit ripeness, alcohol, and sunshine, there’s simply something missing here.

Mollydooker
Price: $49
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample