Ishtar Grenache Shiraz Mourvèdre 2006

I don’t envy wine show judges. Quite apart from the difficulty of appearing dignified with purple teeth, there’s the challenge of judging a wine based on a quick tasting, in a lineup of fourty, perhaps even fifty like wines, after what may have been several flights earlier in the day. Even if I had the tasting perspective, I’d no doubt make a hash of the process, simply because I feel terribly disappointed when I derive no enjoyment from wine, and therefore tend to give most wines a chance to show a positive side.

And that can take time, sometimes days. Or, in the case of this wine, about half an hour. Still, I was ready to write it off at first. My initial sip was as follows: bright red, aggressively confected aroma preceding a sweet, medium bodied palate of considerable simplicity. Next!
But oh, how it’s evolved in the glass. After a little time and air, the nose is quite transformed. While it remains within an easy drinking idiom, there’s plenty of interest to the aroma profile, with meaty Mourvèdre and spicy Shiraz framing fruit that, though confectionary in nature, is well balanced against the savoury elements, and has evolved both sour and sweet faces. 
Similarly, the palate is a long way from its initial presentation and shows surprising sophistication in terms of its movement through the mouth. It’s medium bodied at most, with subtle tannins and enough acidity to stay fresh. Well-judged for frictionless consumption, then; this extends to intensity and density of flavour, neither of which call too much attention to themselves. In fact, it threatens to become a bit weedy, but is saved somewhat by a nice surge of sweet fruit as the middle palate transitions to the after palate. A meaty savouriness leads into the finish, which shows cough-syrup flavours and goes on for a decent amount of time.
There’s cheeky intent behind this wine, or at least a reluctance to forego interest for drinkability. Smart quaffing.

Balthazar of the Barossa
Price: $A19.50
Closure: Stelvin

Gilligan Shiraz 2008

Apparently, this is a one-off. The Gilligan red is usually a blend of Grenache, Shiraz and Mataro, but for 2008 it’s a single varietal. 

This is a disconcerting wine because, in a sense, it’s nothing like what I expect from McLaren Vale Shiraz. The flavour profile is familar: juicy blackberries and plums, dense brambles, a subtle hint of cocoa powder. But the framework in which these flavours exist is extraordinary: light, fleeting, ephemeral. It’s like seeing someone you think you recognise only to realise you’ve been duped by a particular feature — a noble forehead or fine cheekbones — and each time you look you feel the same flash of recognition. 
The aroma was a bit wild at first, not stinky so much as uncontrolled. This quickly settles to a sharp expression of McLaren Vale Shiraz, lithe and piercing in effect. Again, it’s not at all what one expects, yet taken on its own merits it’s very attractive, and almost Pinot-like in manner. There are some underlying complexities too; I’m not sure if there’s any stalk here but it wouldn’t surprise me.
The palate is again brisk and light, with sharpish acidity and loose-knit tannins. I can imagine it lightly chilled, which isn’t something that comes to my mind very often when drinking the region’s red wines. No matter; bright red fruits and orange juice-like sourness dance over the tongue in a lively if indistinct manner. It’s developing an extra degree of depth and richness with time and air, but the fundamental vibe is still bright. No significant development along the line, but the finish is a little surprising in that it seems to end prematurely, then returns to reverberate at the back of the mouth. Quite fun. The alcohol is marked at 15% abv but you’d never know it, which is surprising in itself considering the style. 
I’m rather enjoying this. 

Gilligan
Price: $A21
Closure: Stelvin

Unison Classic Blend 2007

Though this is nice to drink, it’s in every way a lesser wine compared to its reserve-level sibling, the Selection (2005, 2006). I’d definitely spring for the mesmerising Selection for maximum satisfaction.

Having made that rather predictable point, it’s worth noting this wine shows some really attractive, regional characters that I enjoy very much. Principally, there’s a floral potpourri note on the nose that is a foil to noisy mocha oak, some (for me, questionable) vegetal notes, candied plums and brown spice. Though it’s quite piercing up top, and there’s dark fruit in the lower registers too, the aroma lacks a sense of continuity from top to bottom, and hence comes across as a little disjointed. No lack of volume, though.
The palate is equally robust. A similar array of flavours — plums, cough syrup, coffee grounds, spice — present quickly on entry, followed by a widening through the middle palate. The mouthfeel is notable, being roughly textural and quite bold. Despite the character of the flavours and texture, it’s not an overly intense wine, and there’s a slight sense of dilution to the softer fruit flavours. Grainy tannins emerge on the after palate, drying the tongue and giving the sweet fruit a nice edge. Those vegetal notes from the nose shoot through the finish as well.
Not sure I’m convinced by this on its own, though it improved markedly when taken with Bega tasty on crackers. Definitely drink this with assertive food to bring out the best of its flavour profile and soften its rather rustic mouthfeel. 
Update: markedly better on day two. Much rounder, more satisfying fruit (though quite sweet) and the rough mocha edge takes a step back. Perhaps I was feeling impatient last night.

Unison Vineyard
Price: $A30
Closure: Cork

Unison Selection 2006

Some wines are charismatic without being pretty; they make an entrance with the panache of the truly confident, and it takes a moment before you realise they’re really not that attractive in a conventional sense. But their confidence draws you in regardless, generating a visceral response that, perhaps, speaks to a different sort of beauty.

For example, I could describe the aroma of this wine as outré, inelegant, overanxious; it’s indeed all these things. But it’s absolutely magnetic too, exerting an attraction that is really compelling. It’s a bit volatile — indeed, not a clinical style at all — with lifted aromas of stalk, black pepper, dried flowers, and deep plum fruit. Despite the eagerness of each note, there’s a fluidity to their collective expression that unifies the aroma profile and generates a sense of coherence.

There’s coherence, too, from nose to palate, starting with an entry that tingles with delicately sweet, red fruit. The flavour profile quickly darkens towards the middle palate, and a few threads begin to emerge. There’s rich, fresh plum juice, tart plum skins, sweet mocha tannins, astringent stalk and cracked black pepper. It’s quite complex, with a beguiling mouthfeel that seems to be both liquid-smooth and velvet-tannic at the same time. Spices and red fruit rise through the after palate before a long, aromatic finish draws the wine to a satisfying close.

There’s definitely an “X factor” at work here and, perhaps because of this, I suspect the style will be divisive. But even if this wine doesn’t speak to one’s personal preference, it’s hard to deny the strength with which its stylistic argument is made.

Unison Vineyard
Price: $A50
Closure: Diam

Hill of Content Sparkling Red NV

I have a small confession to make: the first two bottles of this were so delicious that I didn’t bother to write about at them at the time: my apologies. Let’s try this again, shall we?A fine, persistent bead builds to a solid mousse, ringing the glass with faint cranberry, set off nicely by a dark, rich, deep crimson red. The nose offers up straightforward rich, creamy red fruit, with a hint of dusty library and book bindings: it smells like there’s some age on this bad boy, and yes, there was; the label mentions two and a half years in French oak, which shows itself again on the palate, which is (and I hate to use this word) hedonistic in the best possible way, beautifully tannic and supportive of the delicious rosy fruit. It all comes together as fresas con crema served in a cedar bowl might: wonderfully young, exuberant, and yet with hints of pedigree and age making it all seem somehow more serious than it really is.Absolutely delicious and a steal at this price, even the packaging makes me smile: it’s a wonderful thing buying sparkling wine under crown seal, I think; just as Chandon markets their high end New World sparklers this way, the effect is of industrial elegance; after all, the church key is far from a Laguiole corkscrew and reminds you that this is, after all, just another agricultural product and not a hedonistic lifestyle accessory. But still: wow, what a wine.Hill of Content
Price: $14
Closure: Other

Moxie Sparkling Shiraz NV

mox.pngSome wines work a treat over a long, Summery lunch.  Others make a roast beef taste twice as good as it normally would (especially if consumed before dinner). In my constant quest to categorise wine according to its most suited purpose, this shall hereafter be known as “the wine that goes great with Dominos pizza on a night where you decide to chuck all the hard work you did last week in the gym because it’s rainy out and you just can’t be rooted walking on a treadmill for an hour.” Admittedly, a niche category, but one I suspect some of our valued readers can identify with.

Indeed, it can be hard to find a good pizza wine, and I don’t mean a good gourmet crocodile and chermoula pizza wine, but a good pepperoni, or a good ham and pineapple, pizza wine. When confronted with such nourishment, most options seem either to lack robustness (causing one to feel a sense of loss with every barely discerned sip), or are of an excessively Italianate manner (compelling a sense of approval, if not satisfaction). This sparking Shiraz from Langhorne Creek, though, seems to hit precisely the right note. 
Aromas of cured meat, spice, garlic, tomato and yeast; yes, a delicious slice of pizza indeed, after which smelling this wine is like inhaling a barrel full of crushed blackberries. It’s somewhat one-dimensional but, more importantly, cuts through heady flavours of pepperoni and crust with a thrust and parry of juicy black fruit and high toned vanilla. It’s pure fun, quite vulgar and, somehow, exactly what one wants to smell after a mouthful of savouriness. 
Being a sparkling wine, the mouthfeel is tingly and refreshing almost by default; again, a desirable trait when coupled with a potentially greasy, overpowering food like cheap pizza. As it is, any trace of oiliness is whisked away with each sip, leaving behind echos of sandalwood oak and your current waistline. It’s not a sweet wine, but neither is it excessively dry, so the fruit has fullness without becoming cloying or heavy with time in glass. As with several other Dowie Doole wines I’ve tasted, this seems designed for pleasurable drinking rather than contemplation; a worthy goal indeed.
The label design, which I feel compelled to reproduce here, suggests nightclubs, fast times and thoughtless consumption. To me, though, here’s a wine that makes fast food a bit special on a Monday night. 

Dowie Doole
Price: $22.50
Closure: Diam

Luca Syrah Laborde Double Select 2006

There is absolutely no reason whatsoever for anyone to be using a bottle this heavy: to do so is just rude. It makes it harder to hold and pour, more expensive to ship, and of course there’s the whole doing right by Mother Earth thing to consider. Worst of all, buying this wine will make you feel like a total prat. After all, what idiot wants to be seen buying the biggest, heaviest, most ostentatious bottle in the shop? Please.On to the wine. Shortly after opening the bottle, I noticed that I had a huge sticky smear of something all over my left hand (I’m a southpaw). Yuck. I retrieved the cork from the garbage and sure enough, there’s a bunch of sticky, gooey mass at the end of the cork and smeared up the side of it. I haven’t had the pleasure of this experience before; I trust the wine is OK and that this is just an one-off, a production oddity.The nose is curiously slight: if Vosges made a chocolate bar called “Gentlemen’s Dark Chocolate with Cedar,” then this is what it would smell like. Oak oak oak and oak… and yet, there’s a pleasant, fleeting floral sourness hiding in there somewhere too. Still, I don’t get a real sense of place, just a sense of cash flow: this wine smells like money.Amazingly purple-y youthful, the wine looks ravishing. Tasting it, though, leaves me a bit less a-flutter: it seems just a bit insubstantial in the mouth at first, quickly hiding behind massive woody tannin and finishing on a slightly sweet note, again managing to taste more expensive than anything else.In short, this is a wine for a hedge fund manager with a penchant for bling. This wine would be absolutely perfect with a steak dinner at the finest steakhouse in town: I’m thinking El Gaucho in Seattle would sell cases of this to Microsoft marketeers dining prospective clients in town to visit the Executive Briefing Center. Drinking it on its own is a bit of a chore, rather like gargling with lavender water and sawdust, but add a fine cut of meat and even a cigar and now you’re talking serious money.Luca
Price: $20
Closure: Cork

Clonakilla Hilltops Shiraz 2002

Six months too late to call it spring cleaning, I found three bottles of this hidden in the bedroom closet last weekend. Oops. Talk about suboptimal cellaring conditions: nearly 80 degrees in there all summer long. I decanted it, set the decanter in an ice bath to cool it off a bit, and waited an hour before drinking: I hope that mitigated any damage I did as best I could.There’s a visual texture to the wine that’s unusual: there’s a blackly rich core of fruit in the glass, thinning out to a less intimidating rim at the edge of the glass. Better yet, there’s a suggestion of particulate matter, with bits stuck to the sides of the glass; presumably, more of the same in the wine itself lends it all an impression of body and richness. I have no idea why, but the older I get, the happier I am when my wines have a certain look of, well, relation to the world of the natural. I don’t like wines filtered to a glossy smoothness; I want to be reminded that they were grown in dirt and raised in wood.At first, the nose is off-putting, smelling sweet, strangely sweet, the sweetness of blackcurrant jam. It’s only temporary, though: wait half an hour at least and its true nature will out. There seems to be an overall level of Brett here that teeters between “ugh, no thanks” and “OK, I can deal with this”; harsh patent medicines duel with roasted smoky notes, and no one comes out on top. Ultimately, the off notes mostly win out, which is a disappointment in the extreme; the quick flashes of roast coffee and bacon fat are there all too briefly before being one-upped by slightly metallic aromas of the medicine cabinet.Still, there’s enough interest here to make me want to finish (just) a (single) glass before tossing the rest of the bottle and waiting another year or two to try one of the six bottles remaining. The texture is beautiful, a rich, solid mass that glides forward on lovely, smooth tannins into a long, silky finish that most wines would kill for. Ultimately, though, the strange qualities of the wine carry the day, and you’re left wondering what happened – I remember this wine being profoundly beautiful five years ago, but I’m just not feeling the love right now. Sadly, the warm cellaring spot probably didn’t help matters. Oh well. Clonakilla
Price: $20
Closure: Cork

Dowie Doole Shiraz 2007

I’ve tasted all three current release Dowie Doole reds in the “standard” range, though this is only the second note I’ve posted (Cabernet to come soon). There’s a definite family resemblance at work in the way the fruit is expressed in these wines that makes this trio of labels variations on a theme. Though they show different flavour profiles, they are all primary, fresh wines of attractive vibrancy.

If anything, this Shiraz is a better drink now proposition than the Merlot. There’s an immediate burst of fruit on the nose, along with some spice, vanilla coffee and something darker and more savoury (a bit like licorice or some other tangy delight). It shows easy balance between each element; this is very natural-smelling, apparently free of strain or artifice. Over time, the aroma grows more expressive and even spicier.
In the mouth, I found the fruit flavours too simple at first (verging on confectionary), until the wine had spent half an hour in the glass. After this short rest, a more nuanced range of flavours emerged, without sacrificing a core of playful red and black berries. On entry, a good tingle of acidity that carries chocolate and berries through to the middle palate. This wine fills the mouth with ease so that, although it is only medium bodied, its drinks in some respects like a wine of larger dimensions. A good burst of clean fruit and spice on the middle palate. Though I suspect oak contributes significantly to the overall flavour profile, the fruit is always discernible in the mix. An easy after palate and soft, lightly drying finish round things off. 
Personally, I marginally prefer the Merlot to this wine, as it shows a bit more sophistication and bit less confectionary fruit. But you can’t go wrong with either as a tasty quaffer. This is a satisfying, delicious wine.

Dowie Doole
Price: $A21
Closure: Stelvin

Mountadam Barossa Shiraz 2007

A blend of Eden and Barossa Valley fruit, this wine makes a great case for itself through a combination of peppery, cooler climate characters and that luscious fruit for which Barossa Shiraz is renowned. 

You know you’re in good hands when you smell this little number, as assertive black pepper rides racily atop juicy blackberry and plum fruit. It’s delicious to smell, in the way a fruit-based dessert smells delicious as it approaches readiness in the oven. No great complexity as such, but it almost says “who cares?” as it caresses one’s nostrils with generous flavour. The palate is in no way a let-down after this tease, as it reveals a generous gush of ripe fruit early on entry. Medium bodied, there’s a spicy lilt to the middle palate that is a refreshing foil to the generous, eager blackberry fruit running underneath. Oak is a mere support act, and I appreciate the unforced, casual character here. This wine knows it is destined for barbeques and weekday evenings across the country, and never undersells these occasions. Delicious plum fruit rides the after palate through to a spicy, surprisingly long finish. 
I purchased this wine for under $A15 and, at the price, it is a bloody bargain. 

Mountadam
Price: $14.25
Closure: Stelvin