Clayfield Grampians Shiraz 2004

This wine’s a ripper and pleasingly distinct from its 2005 counterpart. The latter’s style (and alcohol level) prompted MA-rated strong language and drug references in my tasting note, but I suspect this won’t call for such colourful descriptions. This is more University professor than the tits-out-in-the-back-of-a-ute-at-SummerNats 2005

But who said intellectuals can’t be sexy? Big handfuls of white pepper and spice on the nose, along with the sort of deep berry fruit that immediately signals impressive concentration (if the dark, dense colour weren’t enough). It’s a very stylish aroma profile, as much for the balance of its expressiveness as any particular element. There’s a decent amount of cedar oak too, noticeable and still a bit raw, yet very well matched to the fruit character. 
In the mouth, a wonderfully sensuous experience. The entry swells elegantly with dark berries and spice, plus a liqueur-like note that speaks of concentration rather than overripeness. Texturally, there’s a lot going on, and it’s structurally coherent in a way that makes it difficult to know where the acid stops and the tannins begin. No matter — the whole is shaped with a firm, precise hand. There’s such intensity of flavour on the middle palate that it’s tempting to label it full bodied, yet it’s not really, perhaps medium to full at most, retaining a sense of proportion even at its most fruit-dense point. The after palate lightens in tone, with some red fruit poking in, and spice becoming more prominent. Extremely fine tannins carry a residue of flavour through the finish for some time.
The 2005 is drinking well right now, which works out well because this wine is a bit edgy and, I suspect, has its best days still ahead. A very satisfying, generous expression of Grampians Shiraz whose fruit and structure should persist through the development of bottle aged complexity. 

Clayfield Wines
Price: $A65
Closure: Stelvin

Howard Park Scotsdale Shiraz 2000

Have you ever wanted to review a wine but were too tired to think for yourself? Well, today’s one of those days. As a result, I’d like to contrast the winery’s tasting notes for this wine with my personal experience of it tonight…Ad copy: “Cellaring Notes:

The 2000 Howard Park ‘Scotsdale’ Shiraz has the structural complexity that will reward long medium term cellaring (8 years).“Reality: It’s been just about 8 years on the dot since this wine was originally released. It’s been carefully cellared at 58 degrees F all the while. And what does it taste like? Old wine. Really old wine. If there was a peak to this wine, it was easily during the Bush administration. If you like your wines dead, this one’s for you. It’s got all of the creepy sweetness without sugar that old wines do and none of the freshness and verve that make it worth drinking.Ad copy: “The resultant fruit surpassed all our expectations being some of the most intense, deeply coloured and flavoured grapes to be harvested in the region.”Reality: Unless I’m totally off base here (which is possible; I’m no expert on the geography of Western Australia), Mt. Barker is also in the Great Southern region. Plantagenet Mt. Barker shiraz from 2000 is a damn sight better than this wine; yes, it’s deeply colored but if there ever was a surfeit of flavor here, it’s long since dried up and blown away. What little flavor that’s left is reminiscent of overapplication of lilac perfume at a funeral parlor: floral, cloying, and unappealing.Ad copy: “This wine has masses of character evident with a palate spilling over incomplex flavours and textures.” Reality: If anything, this reminds me of a Hometown Buffet patron with masses of fat evident spilling over a polyester pantsuit with an elastic waisband. There’s an awful lot of something here, sure, but I’d really rather look away and find something else to drink.Ad copy: “Such layers of flavour are rare in such a young wine suggesting extreme promise.” Reality: You know how some kids do really well up until they go to high school and then suddenly disappear to a rural Queensland cupboard or what have you, completely disappointing pretty much everyone that knew them? Well, this is one of those wines. I know that no one can predict the future, but if there was ever extreme promise here, I sure as hell missed the boat. I’m definitely about five years too late to this party, I think.Verdict: If you’ve got a bottle of this, drink it now. If you drank it earlier on and enjoyed it, I’m envious; I’ve had other wines from Howard Park and generally found them satisfying in every respect. Heck, even their Mad Fish fighting varietals still tasted pretty good after a few years’  bottle age on them (the shiraz, at least). This one, though, phew. Not good, and I’m probably sticking to their rieslings alone from now on. (Note to self: find their Tesco riesling from 2002 and drink that soon.)Howard Park
Price: $24
Closure: Cork

Wynns Coonawarra Estate Johnson's Block Shiraz Cabernet 2003

This wine ticks so many boxes. It’s a single vineyard bottling (tick) celebrating an ostensibly remarkable site (tick) full of old vines (tick) in a classic region that is on the comeback (tick). It’s also a quintessentially Australian blend of Shiraz and Cabernet Sauvignon (tick). What could go wrong?

The answer is: something, but I’m not exactly sure what. It’s not that it’s unenjoyable; I’m finishing the bottle as I type. But I’m feeling unsatisfied somehow, as if the intent behind the wine is mismatched with what ended up in the bottle, promising a level of interest and sophistication that just isn’t there.

Perhaps I should just focus on what’s in my glass. It’s my second night with this wine. The first was characterised by a sweetness of fruit that was, frankly, unbalanced with respect to the oak character and marginalised savoury complexity. After being open for a while, it’s showing to greater advantage. The nose strikes me as heavily influenced by the Cabernet component, with a distinct leafiness sitting atop cedar oak and deep berry fruit. It is composed and just restrained enough to create tension and some mystery.

The palate, thankfully, is calmer in fruit character than yesterday, though still deeply sweet in profile. Bright red fruit has been replaced by a compote of darker berries doused in vanilla cream oak. In contrast to the nose, the Shiraz appears dominant on the palate, contributing generous blackberry jam fruit flavour. The oak is borderline overdone for my taste, though I must admit it appears of high quality and is delicious in its own right. I’m missing a sense of detail and complexity, and the wine is bludgeoning me a little with its density and flavour profile. Thankfully, a sweep of acidity livens up the after palate, in conjunction with well-structured, abundant tannins. I’m sure one could leave this wine alone for a few more years yet if so inclined. In fact, I suspect that’s the ticket to greater interest. Perhaps those with greater exposure to old Coonawarra wines can chime in here.

Wynns Coonawarra Estate
Price: $A35
Closure: Cork

Clayfield Grampians Shiraz 2005

Reading others’ tasting notes helps me to learn — about wine, sure, but more often about a particular point of view. No death of the Author for me; as much as I buy into the idea that wine stands alone, there’s a huge amount of interest in understanding how its aesthetics are shaped by those who practice the craft of wine writing. For one thing, wine writers inevitably hone in on one or other aspect of wine, and this resonates not only in terms of how a particular wine has been perceived, but more interestingly in terms of how wine in general ought to be regarded.

The obvious example is the “fruit salad” approach to tasting notes. We’ve all read them; notes that consist exclusively of a list of smell and taste analogues associated with a wine’s nose and palate, as if the pleasure of wine could ever be captured so reductively. I’m prompted to ask: are the various flavours present in wine its primary pleasure? I can’t deny they form a huge part of it, but (and here we begin to get to the point) I’m smelling and tasting the 2005 Clayfield Shiraz tonight and flavours couldn’t be further from my mind.
What’s striking about this wine is its architecture (if you will forgive my semantic preciousness). Volume, density, texture, presence, thickness, flow, viscosity, impact. The flavour profile itself is identifiably Grampians Shiraz, though certainly a large scale expression of this classic regional style. The nose is immediately full and expressive. Volume is the key word here — it’s like the Spinal Tap amplifier turned all the way up to eleven. The fact that its aroma profile is squarely in the cool climate mode comes as something of a shock. Blackberry brambles, plum and pepper in spades. It has such presence and immediacy. 
The palate is in no way a letdown after this promising start. There is plenty of flavour for starters, very much in line with the aroma. But what’s striking are, again, the architectural elements. The tannins are truly remarkable. At first forbidding, with some time in the glass they begin to melt like chocolate in the mouth, transforming from blocky and solid to a more velvet textural expression, all the while retaining a dry, slightly bitter (as in Angostura) finish. At the same time, a silky viscosity causes the wine to swell sensuously on the middle palate.  The label says 15% abv and perhaps this shows, yet I don’t see perceptible alcohol as a fault a priori. Here, it adds to this wine’s sense of elegant debauchery, like a party guest not quite hiding the fact that they’re snorting a line of coke. Or something. 
Fabulous wine. 

Clayfield Wines
Price: $A45
Closure: Stelvin

Leasingham Bin 61 Shiraz 2002

For me, the worst thing about being a wino is probably the dilemma of choosing something to drink while you’re on your own. My partner should’ve been here for dinner tonight, but United Airlines declared his plane broken – something to do with the electrics – so he’s stuck in Chicago for the night leaving me with a simple question: what to drink with some leftover pork tenderloin, green beans, shallots, and mushrooms?This wine seems to do the trick just nicely: it’s not so expensive that I feel bad for not sharing – and more importantly, it worked wonders with the savory accidental broth left behind from the food. Thank you, Waitrose, for your lemon myrtle whatever; it really made the sauce.Even seven years past harvest the wine seems Barney purple, exuberant and fruity. The nose is classic Aussie shiraz, rich fruitcake, more cleavage than is proper, overripe plums stewed with cloves. There’s just a hint of something medicinal there, too – almost Russian aftershave that is never worn, simply drunk, with suggestions of woodland herbs used to make it all taste a little bit less like alcoholic poverty.I digress: this really is lovely and very much itself. I’m glad no one is asking me if this is like a Côte-Rôtie or a Hermitage or some other Old World wine: this is living proof that we’re doing just fine on our own in the New World, thank you. Yes, I suspect there’s a praiseworthy assist from a French fôret somewhere, but that’s certainly allowed, isn’t it?Wonderfully full and chunky in the mouth – I am somehow reminded of Wynona Judd here – the fruit still doesn’t seem perfectly integrated with the oak; of course, it doesn’t really matter. The impression to me is of visting a natural history museum: drinking this wine is like examining the rings of a California redwood or looking at geologic strata deposited over time. The line, such as it is, is parallel: fine, gentle, nervy acidity at the top; rich damson fruit with a hint of bottle age in the middle; at the bottom, fully resolved tannins grounded in dark loam. As wines go, this one is polychordal: it’s a neat trick and one the winemakers really should be immensely proud of. It’s a delight to drink, especially with the pork and beans.Leasingham
Price: $15
Closure: Cork

Clayfield Massif Thomas Wills Shiraz 2006

Clayfield Wines is a small maker in the Grampians region helmed by a most engaging winemaker in Simon Clayfield. I recently purchased the currently available range (three Shirazes), and this is the first I’ve tried. It’s the “second” label wine, priced at a very reasonable $A24.

Absolute Grampians Shiraz. A deeply spiced, incense-like nose full of dark, ripe plum fruit. Being a cool climate style, the fruit isn’t as riotous as something from the Barossa (for example), but is clean, stylish and distinctive. There’s also a positive oak note, cheery and bubble gum-like, that suits the fruit well. The aroma seems very slightly lifted in an attractive manner.

Tintara Reserve Shiraz 2003

I’m a sucker for McLaren Vale Shiraz, and tend to prefer its flavour profile to some other nearby regions. There often seems a thread of bitter chocolate running through the most typical wines that meshes well with a what is frequently a dark fruit flavour profile. Yes, I declare a decided preference for this style, and it’s gratifying to have an especially good example in front of me now.

Really complex aromas of cocoa, fresh plums and freshly harvested root vegetables (pulled out by the stalks). There’s also smoky oak of the high quality kind. The smells are great, but what impresses me most is the nose’s density and coherence. It’s akin to the highest quality drapery; luxurious, textured and totally seamless. A bit of bottle age too, as much a mellow glow as any particular aroma.

Teusner The Riebke Northern Barossa Shiraz 2008

The nose is a riot of licorice allsorts, intense fresh plums, baking spices and marzipan. There’s a vibrancy to the fruit character that is startling in its clarity and directness. It’s the kind of aroma that playfully invades your nostrils before you’ve made a concerted effort to inhale. Quite voluminous, primary and delicious.

Henschke Keyneton Estate Euphonium 2006

Travel for reasons other than leisure is surely one of the loneliest pastimes. I’m currently away from home and, to relieve the tedium yesterday evening, wandered about looking for something moderately interesting to eat and drink. The idea of dining alone in a restaurant didn’t hold much appeal, so I rocked up to a local wine and cheese shop hoping for a solution. Half bottles are ideal in such situations and, fortunately, a small range was on offer, including this wine. A few minutes after spotting it, I was on my way back to the hotel, also equipt with

Mountain X Hunter Shiraz 2007

13.2% alcohol by volume. Not 13%, not 13.5%; the precision of this advertised measurement makes a discreet point.

The qualities of this wine bring any shortcomings of its 2006 sibling into relief and, although a wine deserves to be evaluated on its own merits, I can’t help but make the comparison. The 2006 remains a beautiful wine, yet this improves on it in almost all respects and seems a remarkable progression from the first release. It’s a more mature wine, in the sense that it shows a level of stylistic coherence and poise not quite achieved before: the Pinot component more integrated with the whole, the oak’s expression quite different, the intensity and density of flavour better matched. As with the best wines, this shows as a whole, achieved piece. Of course, it has a fantastic Hunter vintage on its side, too.

Lacking the outré impact and wildness of its predecessor, this wine throws a much denser aroma from the glass. There are notes of black pepper, vibrant dark plum, brighter raspberry-like fruit, earthy minerality and some heady, whole bunch influences. I can’t really tell where the Pinot ends and the Shiraz begins, which I mean as the greatest compliment, as this suggests well-judged and executed blending. The aroma’s depth impresses me most of all, the kind of depth that indicates beautifully, completely ripened fruit. And somewhere in my mind, a figure of 13.2% hovers.

A firm, calm entry introduces the palate. Finely acidic, juicy flavours bubble up and begin to flood the mouth towards the middle palate. There’s an array of notes here, starting with an orange-juice-like flavour (!) and ending up at spicy black pepper, stopping on the way to pick a few wild blackberries and fall into a patch of dusty brambles. It’s at once bright, shapely, generous and firm, ushered along by a carpet of acidity and sweet tannins that seem to come from nowhere. There’s an edginess to the structure that hints some short term bottle age, at least, will be beneficial; not surprising considering this isn’t yet released. The wine seems an altogether less oak-driven style than the 2006, which creates less immediate plushness but, ironically, an impression of greater ageability. In terms of character, too, the oak is quite different, with no nougat in sight, in its place a rather more subtle sheen of sap and cedar. A notably long, sustained finish closes each mouthful on a high note. And still it hovers, the question of how such an obviously, joyously ripe Shiraz can clock in at 13.2% abv. There’s a touch of magic about this wine and, to apologists for the Hunter, perhaps a bit of quiet pride too. The point is well made.

Along with the Tyrrell’s 4 Acres, this is the most complete 2007 Hunter Shiraz I have tasted so far.

Mountain X
Price: $A30
Closure: Diam
Source: Sample