After quickly dismissing the five geese Shiraz last night as being essentially boring, I realized over the next couple of hours spent with the wine that it wasn’t boring, really, but rather incredibly elegant. If you like your Syrah unencumbered by challenge – and I really don’t mean for that to sound as condescending as it undeniably is – then the five geese is really a lovely wine (and excellent value for money). Everything about it was absolutely even-keeled, with that lovely South Australian rich red fruit well supported by oh-so-tasteful oak. It’s just that it left me feeling, well, just a little bit bored.This wine – which is from a warmer wine growing region about two hours’ up the road from McLaren Vale – cost roughly the same amount of money, but doesn’t seem at all stylistically allied with the five geese. Instead, the Ross Estate seems much more idiosyncratic, offering up all kinds of sensory experiences that you can choose to view as either charming or annoying, depending on who you are and what you want from a bottle of wine.This wine looks much darker, denser, and older than the five geese. It’s nearly black in the glass with some browning/fading at the rim; it looks very much like soy sauce or old balsamic vineyard. On the nose, it seems to offer up a whiff of volatile acidity, dill pickle, dusty old barrel, neglected library books, and unaired cupboards. It also offers up finely ground cocoa powder, rich spicy oak, elegant, serious red-black fruit, and freshly baked pecan pie crust. In short, it comes at you from all sides at the same time; it’s either woefully backwards or tantalizingly, classically Old World depending on what kind of a mindset you’ve got.Simultaneously somewhat thin (at first) and paradoxically very mouth filling (thanks to lovely fat tannins that are not yet fully resolved), a mouthful of this wine strikes me as being frankly pretty massive, but not alcoholic. It tastes of lush red fruit coated in spicy cocoa nibs, all with refreshing acidity and moderately huge tannins that would work incredibly well with roast mutton. The finish stays around for a good long while, with faint hints of white pepper and dried herbs; there’s also a suggestion of butter toffee walnuts or burnt sugar. It’s much darker and somehow more serious than the five geese, but the acidity and relatively wild aromas on the nose could be less than appetizing for some folks.To sum up, this wine is more like what I’m looking for when I drink syrah, but from a technical standpoint isn’t necessarily better or worse than the five geese. If your preference is for wines of subtlety, balance, and elegance, choose the five geese; if you like it a little rough, with heavier, darker, cocoa-dusted edges, then this is probably a better call. Either of them are drinking beautifully now, and I’d reckon they still have a few years left to go before fading into obscurity.Really good stuff.Ross Estate
Price: $16
Closure: Cork
Source: Retail
Tag Archives: Shiraz/Syrah
2002 five geese Shiraz
Dusty and mostly forgotten, this bottle’s been hanging on my living room wall for nearly for years now, apparently and rather sadly consigned to the role of wall ornament, not wine. Coming home from work today in the cool San Diego rain, though, I figured it was time to actually drink the stuff.Showing only faint traces of age at the rim, the wine looks like your standard Aussie shiraz: opaque, with nearly invisible particulate matter that suggests fine tannin. In short, just fine by me. The nose is more interesting than many wines in this price range, with oaky raspberry accompanied by suggestions of Medjool dates and Moroccan olive; it seems clear that this wine has seen plenty of oak, but it seems integrated and not overly showy.Mouthfeel is lovely, especially given the age, with moderately fleshy fruits tempered by a more serious backbone of absolutely correct, if slightly humorless oak. There’s well judged acidity backing everything up, resulting in a wine that is just serious enough to potentially pass for Crozes-Hermitage but which is still obviously ripe enough to please anyone who enjoys a glass of red with their meal. In short, everything’s in its right place, but the overall effect is strangely nowhere in particular. Other red wines from the McLaren Vale seem to show a lot more exuberance and joy than this particular bottle; that may result in wines that are alcoholic and faintly ridiculous, but isn’t it better to create something that uniquely speaks of place rather than keep it tastefully in check and wind up with a wine that is tasty but somehow vacant, devoid of personality? I’m not sure about this wine. As an aside: my French is rusty, but shouldn’t Sue Trott describe herself as a vigneronne, not a ‘female vigneron?’five geese
Price: $14
Closure: Cork
Source: Retail
Mountain X Bluechip Canberra Shiraz 2008
I’m on a Mountain X roll, having just written up the wonderful Jack Mattinson’s Deluxe Dry Red from 2009. Here I have now the 2008 Mountain X wine, which in this year was made from Canberra fruit as opposed to the usual Hunter Shiraz (with a dash of Yarra Pinot). The reason’s simple: 2008 was a crap vintage in the Hunter for red wines, but a great one in Canberra.
There’s seems a fashion for stalk in Shiraz at the moment, particularly cooler climate Shiraz. For me, stalk is like oak: an influence that can either complement and enhance a wine or overwhelm and destroy it. It’s not just a matter of volume either; some fruit flavour profiles go better with a bit of whole bunch action than others.
Canberra Shiraz seems especially amenable to whole bunch influence. There’s something about its red fruited, somewhat medicinal regional character that meshes with the often spiky, aromatic vibe of stalk. And so it is with this wine. At first I found the spice and stalk a bit overwhelming, but it does settle with some air, and after a couple of hours it is drinking well. It’s still wild, though, a real hair-toss of an aroma profile, heady with astringent stalk and sharp spice atop crunchy red fruit and charcuterie.
The palate shows good intensity. It’s the sort of wine that seems to cut through the palate with tight focus. Indeed, there’s a good deal of acid, and the wine is only medium bodied. But it’s the stalk and spice that contributes most to this wine’s sense of concentrated focus. The flavour profile is precise and spare, cleanly delineated and almost the opposite of generous. This might be described, in aesthetic terms, as a modernist wine, the very opposite of the kind of ornamented plushness one sees in many bigger red wines. It’s stripped back to the essentials, and for me there’s a real beauty to this style.
Very much enjoyed drinking, and thinking about, this.
Mountain X
Price: $A19.95
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample
Jack Mattinson's Deluxe Dry Red 2009
Prickles of green and brown, red and black. The aroma wraps spice and flesh in the skin of a fruit that is equal parts familiar and fictitious, not-quite-plum in its tart angularity, almost-blackberry in its brambly heat. This wine throws the sort of abstract aroma profile I associate more with fine fragrance than wine, something that approaches real life through a lens of artifice and construction. Yet it’s so earthy too, redolent of dirt roads and rough bark and things you feel as much as see. And it’s beautiful to smell.
The palate rushes at you with surprising, and surprisingly relaxed, fruit. This is the fruit of overripe plums, not baked or stressed so much as juicy to the point of bursting. It would be almost Barossa-like if not for the vibrantly purple-fruited Hilltops character that, after some air, emerges powerfully from a background of subtle oak, spice and structure. There’s certainly enough acid and tannin, the latter chunky and textural in character. This is all quite savoury and in its sense of integrity reminds me of home made preserves, baked things and slow cooking. Its finish caresses my tongue and reminds me that wine is for drinking — most days if you’re lucky — and that no critical endeavour will ever cause me to lose my enjoyment of the drink.
All this without even touching on this wine’s maker, its back label, the blend, its name, its price, the intent so clearly on display. I figured it best to just describe the wine, in order to do everything else justice. I’ll be buying a dozen, and I suggest you do too.
Mountain X
Price: $A15
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Gift
Gilligan Shiraz Grenache Mourvèdre 2009
My tasting notes are, at times, elaborate attempts to understand and perhaps even justify a gut reaction. Indeed, I started to write notes in the first place as a way to help work through the why of my likes and dislikes (and to compensate for my shockingly bad memory). I can probably articulate a particular response better now than I could a few years ago, but what I continue to value above all else is the realisation, be it instant or gradual, that you really love a wine.
In a sense, it’s easy to write about my enjoyment of a wine when it has some accepted currency in the dialogue: elegant reds, lean Chardonnays, flinty Rieslings. The conversation is mutually reinforcing of the wine’s quality and my own excellent taste. But wines like this — authentically commercial styles designed for maximum pleasure — can be more difficult to justify. Yet they shouldn’t be. After all, wine is about refreshment and enjoyment above all else, and if a wine provides these things, surely that is its own justification?
This is very pleasurable commercial style. I’ve tasted it over three days and it has held its form and flow well. The nose shows full, ripe plum fruit and a good deal of sexy, malty oak. The impression is cuddly and expressive, like curling up on a comfortable couch with a soft woolen blanket. There’s some gentle spice and detail too, adding nuance to an aroma profile that remains all about generosity.
The palate is more of the same, and this wine’s level of alcohol — 15% abv — expresses itself as a mouthfilling voluptuousness. Despite this, the wine comes across as medium bodied, indeed showing a degree of elegance that is surprising. I think this is mostly due to quite bright acid, which props up the fruit flavours and gives the palate sparkle and flow. The fruit is just so delicious, showing sweet plums, red berries and a hint of more savoury character. There’s perhaps a slightly stressed dimension too, probably reflective of vintage conditions but in no way distracting. A nice long finish that vibrates with oak and juicy plums.
It’s a mistake to undervalue styles like this.
Gilligan
Price: $A25
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample
Best's Great Western Bin 1 Shiraz 2009
Shiraz is undoubtedly Great Western’s raison d’être. Bin 1 is the baby brother to the mighty Bin 0 and Thomson Family wines (of which the superb 2006 was previously reviewed) but in its more modest way still offers a nice view into this classic regional Shiraz style. In some ways, this makes it the most important wine in the portfolio, in that it’s an affordable entry point into something quite distinctive. A gateway drug, if you will, into the region’s wines.
I’m pleased to note the nose offers an immediate hit of typically Great Western plum and spice. It’s heady and rich within the parameters of the style, showing softness and a halo of vanilla oak that is quite attractive. There’s some good detail to the aroma profile too, perhaps unexpected in this level of wine, that keeps me sniffing.
The palate is styled for generosity and pleasure above all else. Its most outstanding feature, for me, is a rush of plum juice that kicks in soon after entry and whooshes right down through the after palate. Delicious. There’s also plenty of spice and the sort of soft nougat oak character that can clash with some wine styles but which here seems completely right. A nice lift of lighter fruit carries the after palate to a fresh finish that is tinged with softly sweet flavours.
My favourite of the new Best’s Great Western releases.
Best’s Wines
Price: $A25
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample
Mount Langi Ghiran Nowhere Creek Vineyard Shiraz 2005
This producer seems to take a view of Grampians Shiraz that is, stylistically, larger in scale than most, much to the consternation of some of my wine writing colleagues (who shall remain nameless :)). I’ve tasted some delicious Langi wines that have aged a treat, and others that have fallen apart and lost their fruit after a relatively short time. Hard to generalise, then, about the effect of this stylistic intent. What’s certain is these wines can have great impact.
This wine is a good case in point. It’s a luscious, ripened style that is highly satisfying in its way. As I sip, though, I wonder whether there’s a suppression of regional character at play. I’m not familiar with this site’s wines, so it may well be a terroir thing as much as anything else. The nose is more cherry liqueur than fine plum, and there’s a hint of the alcoholic headiness that goes along with my liquerous descriptor. A hint of bottle age completes the dense, slightly blunt aroma profile.
The palate is where this wine’s compromises, as well as its strengths, play out most obviously. There’s no questioning the amount of flavour here; this is the sort of soft, generous red wine, full of chewy fruit and rich oak, that causes some drinkers to slump with pleasure. The middle palate is especially full, as the structure is relaxed enough to encourage spillage of the wine’s fruit across the tongue. There’s some bitterness on the after palate, though, and some heat intruding on the finish too. There’s also a stressed dimension to the minor spice notes in the flavour profile. It’s almost the flip side of all that richness, as if the fruit couldn’t quite be coaxed into such a full expression without rebelling in some way and losing the sense of elegance for which this region’s Shiraz is famed.
Not a bad wine by any means, but a polarising style for lovers of Western Victorian Shiraz.
Mount Langi Ghiran
Price: $A25
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample
Mike Press Shiraz 2009
It feels a while since I last tasted some of Mike Press’s wines. A quick search of Full Pour tells me I tasted the 2008 Shiraz in February of this year, but earlier vintages are more prominent in my deteriorating memory banks. I remember the splash made by the 2005 vintage wines, and bought a few myself. I’ve always been impressed by the easy styling of the red wines; at their best they convey a sense of sophistication that sits well outside their price points. Oak handling has historically been a slight sticking point for me, though I am pleased to see the oak flavours in this 2009 wine are much more to my taste.
Initially, there are some bright aromas that seem like left-overs from fermentation. These quickly blow off to show quite luscious red and black berry fruit, some sharp pepper and spice, plus lightly malty oak. The aroma profile tilts firmly towards liqueurous fruit, but there’s enough complexity to suggest some seriousness of intent. I suspect a few months in bottle will calm the slight edge here and bring each component together more naturally.
After a flavoursome entry, the palate is pleasingly savoury, taming any suggestion of fruity excess from the nose and placing dense berry flavours in a framework of spice, bright acid and powdery tannin. Don’t misunderstand me; there’s plenty of fruit, which fills the middle palate with satisfying generosity. It’s the structure that elevates this wine well beyond a quaffing style. I’d go so far as to say the structure places this wine in opposition to a quaffing style; I don’t feel this is ready to drink, and when it is, will show considerable elegance. For now, good texture and a hint of minerality on the after palate, through to a nice finish that is nevertheless a bit compressed by tannin.
Ridiculously cheap for this level of quality.
Mike Press Wines
Price: $A12.50
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Gift
Domaine Tournon (Chapoutier) Western Victoria Shiraz or Syrah 2008
I bought this wine because:
- it’s labelled “Shiraz or Syrah,” a conceit that one hopes was motivated by a heavy dose of French Theory but which, alas, is probably a lot more prosaic in intent;
- its cork seal looks decidedly out of place on a wine at this price point; and
- the geographic indication is simply “Western Victoria.”
This last point intrigued me, and some lazy Googling leads me to suspect the fruit is sourced from the Pyrenees. If so, one wonders why it wasn’t labelled as such. Perhaps this rather ambitiously named Australian region might have caused confusion in the old country.
In any case, enough metavinosity. The wine itself is decent enough and is improving in the glass. On the nose, a pepper steak vibe mixes with dark, juicy plum fruit and some eucalypt. It’s very clean and fresh, though tending towards anonymity in character. There’s something boring about its cleanly defined, simple fruit flavours that may alienate those looking for more personality.
The palate is consistent with this impression, offering good volumes of plum juice in the context of an easygoing, fresh structure. Medium bodied, there’s plenty of flavour and a bit of detail around the edges. The after palate becomes more textured and complex, though the wine never sheds its core of simple fruit flavour. Some heat on the finish along with a lift of mint.
A pretty solid wine at this price, showing hints of regional character without ever threatening to become too interesting. Cork, though; seriously?
Domaine Tournon (Chapoutier)
Price: $A16.15
Closure: Cork
Source: Retail
Seppelt Chalambar Shiraz 2008
As should be evident to regular readers of this blog, I tend to view wine not only in terms of what’s in the glass, but also as a function of human input, circumstance, intent, and a whole bunch of other problematic considerations that are hard to pin down but which are, for me, always part of the experience of tasting.
This makes Great Western-based Seppelt’s range, exemplified by the multi-regional Chalambar blend, especially challenging. There’s nothing like visiting a region or two to reinforce the value of clear regional character in wine. After recently spending some time in the Grampians — one of my favourite areas for Shiraz — I feel invigorated in my appreciation of the special qualities of this region, and hence somewhat dismayed by what this wine is. Carrying a Great Western heritage, but made from a blend of Grampians and Bendigo fruit, the Chalambar label is a litmus test of sorts in terms of one’s view of regional distinctiveness versus straight mainstream quality.
And there’s no doubt this is a quality wine. It’s decent value at its recommended retail price (mid-$20s), and a steal at the sub-$15 price point one often sees at the larger retailers. The nose is spicy and meaty in equal measure, with a nice aromatic lift characteristic of Western Victorian Shiraz, but a level of depth and ripeness more suggestive of the Bendigo component. It’s quite juicy in terms of the character of its fruit; all plums and dark berries and pulp, with a leafy edge too. Moderately complex, there’s a gentle oak vibe that frames and gives shape to all that luscious fruit.
The palate continues in this vein, with plenty of generosity and good movement through the mouth, though it took a few minutes to lose the sense of hardness with which it opened. The entry has a mouthfilling quality and is thick with dark fruit flavour, so much so that it teeters on the edge of being full bodied. Prominent, fine tannins emerge on the middle palate, chalky in character and almost too perfect in form. Indeed, there’s a composed glossiness to this wine that is alternately impressive and frustrating. Where is the rawness, the edge, here? There’s an attractively bright sour edge to the fruit, reminiscent of plum skins, which I particularly like. There’s also a good whack of deeply ripened, Bendigo-style fruit that I like less well. The after palate and finish are dark and satisfying, leaving an echo of black berries right at the back of the mouth.
A tasty wine, then, and one made with consummate skill. Whether it satisfies your soul in addition to your palate is more a matter of philosophy than taste.
Seppelt
Price: $A18.95
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Retail