Née Watervale.
Grosset
Price: $A31
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Retail
Née Watervale.
Grosset
Price: $A31
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Retail
I struggle to articulate more abstract, aesthetic dimensions of wine. It’s one thing to list flavours and try to describe structure, all of which are quite tangible with a little experience of tasting and writing. But what of crucial notions such as coherence, style, philosophy? Much harder to crystalise intellectually, let alone write about. And so I grapple with this note, because it’s a good wine, indeed well achieved given the vintage, yet there’s something that separates it from the best years, and it’s that intangible quality that I’d like to pin down, and repeatedly fail to do.
Balnaves of Coonawarra
Price: $A35
Closure: Cork
Source: Sample
There’s a lot of waffle about wine, to which I’m sure I contribute my fair share. So to read the back label of Yelland & Papps wines is a breath of fresh air: “[Yelland & Papps]’s sole aim is to enjoy all aspects of the process and sharing this with others.” Hard to argue with that.
Yelland & Papps
Price: $A30
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample
Balthazar of the Barossa
Price: $A50
Closure: Procork
Shiraz plays second fiddle to Cabernet Sauvignon in the Coonawarra, and one might suggest this is a good thing, considering the classic status of Cabernet from this region. Indeed, I’ve sometimes wondered at the local tendency to plant a fruit salad of grape varieties with little apparent regard for established regional styles. Two points, then. Firstly, if it tastes good, I want to drink it regardless of region or variety. Secondly, and more specifically, Shiraz has a lineage of some magnificence in the Coonawarra. The Wynns Michael Hermitages from the 50s are an obvious card to play in this regard, and on more personal terms I’ve had many lovely Coonawarra Shiraz wines over the years, including a remarkably ephemeral Redman Claret from 1976, consumed about 3 years ago. So yes, I’ve a soft spot for Shiraz from this region, and it’s with some anticipation that I taste this reasonably priced Balnaves from 2006.
Balnaves of Coonawarra
Price: $A24
Closure: Stelvin
Sometimes, I wonder why I ever moved to Brisbane. Sure, it’s beautiful today, and I’m sure it will be perfect tomorrow, but I’m a Canberra boy at heart. I like cold, mercilessly windy Winters and hot, dry Summers, not least because they tend to be framed by idyllic Springs and Autumns. Brisbane, on the other hand, goes from warm to ridiculous, with days (like today) that feel hot well in excess of the measured temperature. Natives say it’s the humidity, and assure me I’ll get used to it, but like many acquired tastes I’m not sure whether it’s worth the effort.
Yelland & Papps
Price: $A17
Closure: Stelvin
First off, thank you Julian for passing along this bottle. Once I got past the crumbling, decrepit cork and strained out all of the nasty bits, I was left with a fairly young, Port-like looking wine, which was a bit of a surprise. Yay! It’s not dead yet! Heck, it’s not even all that brown or watery at the rim just yet, which is very much a surprise after all these years.Jammy, stewed prunes blanket the glass; soft, warm smells of cedar boxes and patent medicines complement it well. It all smells like something you’d find at a bake sale in rural England, suggesting sweet spices from the Empire juxtaposed against fine local dairy products, the buttery esters bumping up against clove and ginger.The line of the wine seems a bit confused at this point, starting off mostly just acidic, but it recedes quickly to reveal a very soft, slightly sweet, definitely relatively old wine that offers up fairly simple blackcurrant and cassis notes at first, supported somewhat on the finish by tannins that seem pretty much entirely resolved at this point. It all finishes in a very gentle, smooth glide towards something like a blackcurrant jam and maple syrup tart; there’s still enough tannic backbone to make it come across as ‘serious’, though, if that sort of thing is important to you.All in all, it seems to me that this wine is just about ready to head for the door for all time, though, so drink ’em if you’ve got ’em. If you’re a fan of mature cabernet, this comes pretty close to good, although I would have liked a bit more oak influence here, a bit more spine.Leasingham
Price: $NA
Closure: Cork
From my perspective, this is a curio: an inexpensive white wine made for the German market. I was sent samples by the apparently indefatigable Leigh Gilligan, whose various ventures enjoy strong distribution, and seem to resonate strongly, in Germany. The interest for me, apart from the wine itself, is the marketing approach, which draws explicitly on Australia’s reputation for “sunshine in a bottle” wine styles. While this approach is now hotly contested in the local industry, there’s no doubt Australian wine is known in export markets largely for this type of wine, so if nothing else I’m eager to taste wines with a claim to representing the style and, hence, a certain face of the industry.
Simply Sunshine
Price: €5.45
Closure: Stelvin
Graphically at least, this bottle seems to suggest a radical break with Penfolds tradition. Gone is the slightly daggy, endearingly old school label that looks as if it were designed by a TAFE graduate armed with nothing more than a biro and a ruler. Instead, we have a perfectly ordinary, utterly corporate, yawn-inducingly generic label that strikes me as if it were designed solely to lend Penfolds product an air of internationally respectable cachet that would allow them to be sold alongside, oh, Mouton-Cadet on duty free shelves in Heathrow airport. It’s sad, really: packaging is important, and this just screams ‘Hey, we sold out to Southcorp, home of awesome heating equipment. Oh, and we make wine! International style wine guaranteed to never, ever raise eyebrows!’ Oh well.So: how’s the wine? In the glass, it’s deep, dark, rich and visibly aging at this point, a dark, rich red tinged with a hint of molasses. The nose seems just a little bit dumb, promising nothing more than aged wine, hinting at well-scrubbed linen closets and air-dried laundry. Things finally get going when you actually drink some: there’s still a good sense of sweetness and heft here, amplified by very subtle cedary oak, that expands into a somewhat simple, slightly sour, really rather delicious finish supported by some well-rounded tannins.Given the somewhat bright acidity here, this wine really doesn’t work well on its own. Add a steak, though, and I think you’re in the right place in terms of doing what the winemakers presumably were hoping you’d do. This is fairly decent cabernet, not really international style (the sourness! the moderate alcohol!) and also definitely not Bordeaux (no minerality! no greenness!), so I suppose it really is uniquely Penfolds. Not bad, and yet somehow lacking (at least to me). Would I buy it again? Yeah, probably. Would I wait so long to drink it? No – something appears to have gone missing along the way. I’m not getting particularly interesting aged characteristics here, and I’m thinking this might’ve been more interesting five years ago.Penfolds
Price: $18
Closure: Cork
Wynns’ series of single vineyard bottlings over recent vintages prompts, amongst other things, the question: why? The back label suggests each bottling represents an outstanding parcel of fruit from a particular vineyard in a particular year, which is fine; but what, exactly, does “outstanding” mean in this context? Of the two I’ve tasted (the Johnson’s Block and this one), both seem within the same order of magnitude of quality as the Black Label, yet slightly outside the mainstream of regional style set by that same wine. Perhaps a distinctive character, not ostentatious quality, is the point here. I can dig that.
This was really disjointed for the first while but is coming together nicely. Used coffee grounds, ripe red fruit, polished sideboards full of old cutlery, and a few pine needles too. I wouldn’t describe the aroma as elegant, which is a shame to me as Coonawarra Cabernet can be terribly stylish, but it’s also flagrantly, sexily aromatic. The culprit, it seems, is fruit that errs on the side of very ripe, and oak that bludgeons in its custard, cedar profile. I’m being picky, though.
The palate is plush and generous, such that the wine drinks well now. Somehow, it seems more varietal than the nose, especially in its herbaceous overtones. As with the nose, the fruit here is sweet and red, and slightly stewed. There’s a nice linearity to the flow, with a consistent level of fruit intensity and density from early on through to the finish. Some interesting complexities of flavour, especially on the after palate where something akin to aniseed seems to poke its head out, along with a bit of menthol. Tannins are silty, globby masses of texture, kind of like wading out onto a mud flat with bare feet.
It’s not really my style of Cabernet, but I think it should win quite a few friends nonetheless.
Wynns Coonawarra Estate
Price: $A35
Closure: Stelvin