Grosset Springvale Riesling 2009

Née Watervale. 

Amongst the many things for which I enjoy Riesling, one of the recurring highlights of a particularly good one is the directness with which it communicates its quality. Personally, I find quality one of the less tangible aspects of wine, intersecting (and at times contradicting) other considerations like drinkability and style. Somehow, though, I find with Riesling that an increase in quality tends to align with an increase in my enjoyment, and I think part of it is the somewhat facile satisfaction I obtain from being able to clearly grasp what makes a good Riesling so good. At least, I flatter myself this ability. 
Take this Grosset wine, which is bloody good. It’s complex, and as I sniff the wine and take in this complexity, I remind myself that’s all there is. No oak, apparently straightforward winemaking; it’s just fruit character shining forth. This is a case, surely, of minimalist winemaking enhancing terroir (not, I believe, something to be regarded as a truism, but that’s another post for another time). Though less exhuberant than the 2008 vintage, there’s an obvious family resemblance, with a range of high toned notes overlaying deeper, almost tropical fruits and detailed citrus aromas. Great balance, interest and style. 
The palate shows the youthful impact for which this label is known, placing relatively full, rich fruit in a framework of textured, slatey acidity and etched complexity. The entry is like a wedge; it starts from nothing and works its way confidently to a bright middle palate filled with flavour, beautiful texture and the kind of drape normally reserved for high end couture. It’s the facted angularity of its architecture as much as any other, more prosaic dimension that satisfies me here. And, to be hyper-critical, the intellectualism associated with this style might get in the way of purely sensual appreciation. I tend to think, though, that bottle age might cure any such faults, if one were to find them distracting. Personally, I love that it drags me to a higher level of appreciation as a taster. If only more wines held drinkers in such high regard.

Grosset
Price: $A31
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Retail

Balnaves Cabernet Sauvignon 2007

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.

It’s oaky for sure – arguably too much so, depending on one’s tastes. The nose is flagrantly vanillan alongside varietal cassis and sweet dusty leaf. It has the dark, clean fruit for which I adore Coonawarra Cabernet and, in a sea of increasingly full, plush wines, I’m glad for the rustic simplicity of the style. Despite the modern slickness of the oak, this strikes me as a gleefully old-fashioned wine, perhaps less concerned with appearing seamless than it is providing a decent hit of flavour. At the very least, it seems totally unpretentious. 
The palate is similarly rustic, perhaps lacking in fruit intensity (similarly to the recently tasted 07 Cabernet Merlot), but somehow managing to emerge with a good degree of satisfaction. Sort of like a diver who straightens up just moments before hitting the water. A nice clean entry, dark berry fruit and prominent vanilla oak creating a dessert-like flavour profile without, however, any overwhelming sweetness. It’s home cooking to a glossier wine’s night out. The middle palate remains lean, with little evolution in flavour profile, save for some attractively ferny herbaciousness. Straight through to the after palate and finish, then, with relatively abundant tannins that are chalky and somewhat lumpy in character. It certainly dries the mouth in a pleasant way, suggesting food, rather than another sip, is the right answer.
I’ve definitely tasted better Cabernets from this region, with greater complexity and less rusticity. But what value enjoyment? Drink with outrageously flavoured Italian food.

Balnaves of Coonawarra
Price: $A35
Closure: Cork
Source: Sample

Yelland & Papps Old Vine Grenache 2007

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.

The nose was initially sweet-fruited, slightly one-dimensional, definitely generous. It’s gained some complexity through the evening, with malty oak and a savoury, stemmy edge that runs alongside the main event: luscious, jammy Grenache fruit. It’s not a facile wine, yet it’s not intellectual either; the priority here is sensual enjoyment, which I respect absolutely as a stylistic goal. The fruit is quite dark in character, like a mixed berry conserve slathered over a fresh scone. 
The palate is very much more of the same, with a nice rush of fruit quite early that accelerates through the middle and after palates. There’s no stopping the fruit, except perhaps a personal aversion to fruit-driven, relatively sweet flavour profiles. Certainly, if one’s bent were strictly towards Bordeaux, this might seem hopelessly naive as a wine style. Yet within its stylistic bracket, this wine delivers a nice hit of clean, varietal fruit without pretense. It’s not flabby either, acid in particular propping up flavours and providing well-defined shape to the palate. The finish is quite long and doesn’t thin out until it’s almost out of steam; the fruit here really does have good thrust and penetration along the entire line.
Perhaps a matter of taste more than many other wines, this is a solid example of fruity, exuberant Barossa Grenache that fans of the genre needn’t hesitate purchasing. Worked rather well indeed with spicy Thai food.

Yelland & Papps
Price: $A30
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Balthazar Shiraz 2005

2005Shiraz1.jpg

There are few things in art, and indeed life, more tantalising than a mistaken first impression.
The bottle in front of me is festooned with gold stickers (much more so than in the accompanying photograph); so much bling threatens to overwhelm a striking label design. To certain weary enthusiasts (that’s me), it might also signal an unsubtle, “show” style.  So its true character, when revealed, comes as a surprise. Indeed, what is remarkable about this wine is its powerful intimacy. It draws you in quietly, peeling itself back one translucent layer at a time, until you’re lost in its grasp.
I was advised by this wine’s mother to give it a good hour and a half of air before attempting serious evaluation. In fact, I left it overnight to breathe, and feel on day two its expression is close to complete. At first, a nose that is all mocha oak and deep, ripe plums. It’s complex yet utterly restrained from flowing as it ought. A couple of hours later, the aroma profile is wider and more expressive, though still deeply coiled and suggestive of untold generosity. Finally, a day on, there’s some freedom, structured yet moving without restraint, a multi-coloured kimono of aroma. Black fruit, complex spice, hot sun on brambles, some vanilla. It’s all quality, with good integration and poise, yet it’s subdued and subtle, in a positive sense. There’s no yelling, just sweet harmony and rhythm.
The palate is equally seductive, and it’s difficult to tease each element apart.  Flavours are in line with the nose, though a successful balance between sweet and savoury fruit is more evident here. There’s a voluptuous slipperiness to the mouthfeel that is also notable. On entry, inky fruit and coffee grounds create a dark flavour profile that carries through to the middle palate. Here, it lightens a little, red fruit and plums emerging alongside orange juice acidity and brown spice. There’s a lot going on. The after palate is positively fruit driven, and very clean in presentation. It sustains the momentum of the front palate through to a musky, powerfully soft finish of ultra-ripe tannins and sweet fruit.
What a lovely wine. It’s striking and intense and all of those good things, yet somehow manages to communicate with understatement. A most intriguing, satisfying wine.

Balthazar of the Barossa
Price: $A50
Closure: Procork

Balnaves Shiraz 2006

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.

Despite 15% abv (per the back label) and an impressive sense of scale in its flavour profile, this wine manages to retain a degree of elegance on both the nose and palate. Certainly, this isn’t due to restraint in oak treatment or a lack of ripeness. The nose shows lashing of blackberry brambles, coffee grounds and a certain (attractive) twiggy aroma. It’s dense and quite heady, hints of spice adding complexity and sophistication. There’s a hot edge to the aroma, which isn’t overly distracting to me. 
The palate follows through with a good dose of blackberry and spice, framed by oak that appears less dominant than on the nose. Indeed, the oak is remarkably well integrated into the flavour profile, adding a cedary, coffeed frame to generous fruit that, after a little tussle, grabs centre stage. The entry is subtle and creeps up slowly, showing mostly oak flavour underneath a rising surge of fruit that finds its full expression on the middle palate. Though the flavour profile suggests rich, ripe berries, this wine stops short of full-on hedonism, and seems between medium and full bodied to me. I think this is a good thing; as the body is contained, a nice tension develops between flavour and structure. There’s plenty of acid and tannin to keep things lively in the mouth; all in balance and well integrated. The after palate is quite light, with transparent fruit flavours and an astringently sappy, twiggy note. The finish is quite satisfying, if a tad hot.
Given its dimensions in terms of flavour and alcohol, this is refined and elegant. Most of all, though, it has that drinkability “X factor” that is rarer than it should be. Go Coonawarra Shiraz!

Balnaves of Coonawarra
Price: $A24
Closure: Stelvin

Yelland & Papps Delight Grenache Rosé 2009

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.

In any case, I needed some refreshment this afternoon and reached for this Grenache-based rosé from Yelland & Papps, a small producer in the Barossa Valley. A lurid strawberry colour, not overly dense but certainly pretty in its neon way. A party colour. The nose is exuberant, with boiled lollies and a counterpoint of savoury, medicinal notes. Simple, fun and certainly generous. It might present too much confectionary for those who prefer a more savoury rosé style; it’s all about context I guess. 
The palate is quite full, with a round mouthfeel and surprisingly intense flavour. The entry is soft and a little underwhelming. The middle palate, by contrast, is full of bright flavours that echo the sweet/savoury profile of the aroma. Things get even more interesting through the after palate, where the acidity contributes a strong, sour thread that accentuates the savoury aspects of the flavour profile. There seems to be a bit of heat on the finish (13% abv). 
An honest, flavoursome wine that would suit casual Summer quaffing for those not averse to the sweeter (and more alcoholic) side of Grenache.

Yelland & Papps
Price: $A17
Closure: Stelvin

Leasingham Classic Clare Cabernet Sauvignon 1996

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

Simply Sunshine White 2009

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.

The interest in terms of what’s in the bottle relates to a particular concept of wine at this price point, something Chris recently touched on. He described a certain kind of wine as “fermented grape juice beverage product;” drinks that are technically wine but stylistically about as far as you can get from the generally accepted definition. Of course, I’m applying a massive, snobby value judgement to this description, even though I have no desire or ability to argue with the enjoyment many gain from imbibing [yellow tail]. Then again, what I do have is a desire for authenticity at all price points, and I believe well-priced wine does not need to taste like an industrial, wine-flavoured beverage.
I’m vindicated in this belief by this wine, at least. It’s not a secret Grange by any means, but it looks, smells and taste like real wine. It’s easygoing, with bubblegum florals, a bit of sharp citrus and sweeter, rounder fruit that oddly reminds me of Lipton’s peach iced tea.  There are no varieties listed on the bottle, and from the aroma profile I thought there was some Rhone action in there, but no, it’s mostly Chardonnay with a splash of Sauvignon Blanc and Chenin Blanc. The palate is soft and cuddly. More peach tea, a hint of crisper florals and, well, not a lot else. So complexity isn’t a high point, nor is it the aim I should imagine. Rather, this wine delivers generosity, a round mouthfeel of satisfying viscosity and perhaps just a hint of residual sugar to help it go down. It’s a bit low in acid, which translates to a somewhat clumsy progression through the mouth, if not outright flab. But it’s hard to argue with the tasty flavour profile here. 
Great barbeque wine. Nicely done.

Simply Sunshine
Price: €5.45
Closure: Stelvin

Penfolds Bin 407 Cabernet Sauvignon 2000

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 Coonawarra Estate Alex 88 Cabernet Sauvignon 2006

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