Together with the Stefano Lubiana tasted yesterday, this wine falls in a sparsely populated class that I shall call “second label Australian Pinot Noirs that don’t taste like second label Australian Pinot Noirs.” Breaking new ground, as always.
Tar & Roses Heathcote Tempranillo 2007
This has been garnering some raves lately, as has its sister label
Innocent Bystander Moscato 2008
I’m a bit late to the Moscato bandwagon, not often craving this style of wine. But tonight, after a rather odd weekend, I felt like an uncomplicated drinking experience, so here we are. Certainly, the packaging makes me smile. Crown seals are quite snazzy-looking in their way, and the pink of this wine reminds me of rouge on the cheeks of an old china doll. So far so good.
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
Mountain X Hunter Shiraz 2006
Despite having published a series of turgid articles (1, 2, 3, 4) arguing precisely the opposite, I think there’s something deeply authentic about Australian wines that are a blend of material from several regions. For a start, many of our great winemakers (Roger Warren, Max Schubert, Maurice O’Shea and Colin Preece, for starters) often used this approach. It remains a part of our industry to this day, arguably representing the mainstream.
The intent is often to create a better wine than can be crafted from any one constituent component. For example, I’ve read that Colin Preece used to sometimes include some rich, ripe Rutherglen red in his elegantly spicy Great Western material to create a superior end result. There are many such examples, Grange being the most obvious and enduring. So one could pursuasively argue that a multi-regional blend vibrates with the sort of authenticity that can’t be achieved by simply doing it the way they do in, say, Burgundy. Perhaps this is the Australian way.
Is this even important? Surely, what’s in the glass is all that matters. Well, yes and no; to me at any rate. I’m not of the “wine is just a drink” school. I believe intent matters. And I think the degree to which a wine engages (or disengages) from a certain winemaking tradition should be considered. None of that changes what’s in the bottle, but wine exists in a context and, when I taste it, the purely sensual experience intersects all these things.
Perhaps I should apologise to the creators of this wine, Gary Walsh and Campbell Mattinson, for not getting straight to the point. But, in a sense, this is the point. Well-known wine writers, Messrs Walsh and Mattinson have ostensibly created the Mountain X label not only to produce something very tasty, but to explicitly draw on various Australian winemaking traditions.
This may be the first seriously postmodern wine that I’m aware of, at least locally. The name recalls O’Shea’s naming conventions. It’s a blend of Hunter Valley and Yarra Valley wine. And it’s a blend of Shiraz and Pinot Noir varieties. Hardly anyone does Shiraz/Pinot blends any more; it’s certifiably niche, and yet fits naturally into the history of the Hunter Valley. Even the outdated nomenclature of Hunter Burgundy suggests it. So neat on so many levels.
Indeed, the conceptual side would threaten to overwhelm the wine if it weren’t deliciously, obviously good. And it’s so good, fully justifying its existence to those who just want to drink a quality wine. The nose for starters. First impressions are of expressively funky brambles and stalk, fully ripe and strongly suggestive of the Pinot component. There’s also what I presume is an oak influence, sweetly malty and nougat-like, not too assertive in volume or aggressive in flavour. Then, some mellow berry fruit, straddling sweet and savoury. This is such a relaxed aroma profile, one that gently glows in the glass and calls you back not with a shout but with a sweetly harmonised tune.
This quiet sophistication carries through to the palate. All the obvious markers of quality are here — intensity, length, complex flavour — as they are in thousands of other wines. What’s fascinating about this wine is the flavour profile. As with the nose, it’s quite funky but not in a dirty way. In fact, this wine is a great example of how to achieve character without resorting to questionable flavours. I’m not sure I can tease it apart, but I’ll give it a go. A strong thread of sour cherry. A small amount of intensely sweet, positively confectionery fruit (sort of like Redskins, but of course in a clever adult sort of way). Brambles. Nougat. I’m not sure I’m communicating things accurately (or completely, as it’s quite complex) but suffice it to say it’s coherent and attractive. Structurally, this is acid-driven, though delicately so, such that it’s not forbidding in any way. Body is medium, with a sprightly mouthfeel that also manages to feel luxurious. The finish echoes the very beginning, with ripe, stalk-like flavours freshening the palate as sweet fruit lingers like an echo somewhere up high.
Performance art in a bottle. Serve it to non-wine nerds and enjoy both the wine and a quietly smug chuckle.
Mountain X
Price: $A30
Closure: Diam
Source: Sample
White Box Heathcote Shiraz 2006
White Box apparently refers to a particular variety of eucalypt that exists in some numbers on the vineyard property. Being a design geek, I can’t help but reflect the label, far from encapsulating a “down home” environmental message, is stuck in a characterless aesthetic that would feel more at home on a Web site circa 1999. Am I the only person who thinks this?
Seppelt Jaluka Chardonnay 2005
A couple of years ago, this wine wasn’t especially rewarding; tight, unyielding, totally bound up. Yet the intensity of its fruit shone through a clasped structure, so I purchased a few bottles for later tasting.
It’s quite different now. For a start, there are distinct flavour influences from time in bottle, mostly toast and crackly caramel in character. These ride atop juicier white peach and honeydew melon notes, themselves straddling vanilla cream. A precisely layered aroma profile. In the mouth, powerfully intense fruit flavours rush over the tongue with military precision — despite relaxing enough to allow a fuller expression of its fruit, this wine remains a focused experience. Acidity is quite prominent but noticeably less assertive than on initial release. The after palate and finish are especially lovely, with a blanket of sweet fruit gently settling in the mouth, lingering on and on, then smoothly tapering away. Quite complex, shapely and elegant.
Without wanting to imply restraint, this wine is quite an intellectual experience that contains its sensuality within a precisely etched framework. I’m reminded that, sometimes, clothing is infinitely more sexy than full frontal nakedness.
Seppelt
Price: $A30
Closure: Stelvin
De Bortoli Yarra Valley Estate Chardonnay 2006
It’s had a little while to settle in the bottle, so I’m keen to see how this wine is tracking now that it has just been superseded by a newer vintage. It’s funny, the ongoing race a next, maybe even better, vintage. Sometimes I feel the pleasures of a recently past vintage can get lost in amongst the latest and greatest.
Clean, intense aromas of vanilla and white peach. A lovely nose, really, even though it’s not the last word in complexity. What it does have is finesse and balance, which are certainly their own rewards. Although fresh and crisp, the palate shows notable generosity of fruit flavour. There are savoury elements, most obviously spiced oak and perhaps some steeliness, but this wine is currently about delicious and intense Chardonnay fruit. Acid is a highlight. It’s consistent and firm through the palate’s line, creating emphasis by underlining the fruit flavour rather than shouting over the top of it. Barrel ferment characters are especially well judged, adding complexity and richness without heaviness. A nice shot of clean fruit up through the after palate leads to a finish of satisfying length. An interesting textural dimension asserts itself in the latter half of the palate.
A really excellent wine to enjoy now with food. I had mine with a Chicko roll and could not have been happier. Great value for money.
De Bortoli
Price: $A23.75
Closure: Stelvin
Date tasted: October 2008
Redbank The Long Paddock Chardonnay 2007
I’m not familiar with this label but, according to the winery’s tasting note, grapes were sourced from across Victoria after bushfires affected its traditional regional base of the King and Ovens Valleys. That’s some pretty cool one off-ness for a paltry $9.50. I remember the days (not very long ago) of cheap Chardonnay oaked so heavily one practically got splinters in the mouth. I’m sure they’re still out there, but the vogue for tighter, finer wines seems to to have stimulated a fresh breed of cheapies. Or so I hope.
Tahbilk Marsanne 2002
Amazingly, I managed to get the cork out of this bottle without breaking my corkscrew. Ouch! That sucker was really stuck in there, but I digress…If there was ever a wine that smelled of lanolin, this is it. One whiff and I’m back in Rotorua watching a tourist sheep-shearing show; afterwards, you can’t escape the gift shop without rubbing some of the local produce on your hands, and this is what it smells like. The aging here has also contributed a sort of butterscotch and must that’s not too bad: it’s kind of like your grandparents’ house, actually – imagine a dish of slightly moist hard candy that’s a souvenir of the Brussels World Fair, but again I digress…The color has wound up at a beautiful gold the color of fresh Oregon apple cider. Once you drink some, it doesn’t taste at all like you’d expect, I reckon: there’s a quick start of something like Granny Smith apples with an underlying steel; then, it’s on to quince and pears with an appealingly full mouthfeel. Supporting acidity is very good indeed, veering towards Clare riesling territory, but it all winds down on a lovely note of warm apple pie (or tarte tatin if you prefer a Francophone air to your wine tasting notes).With some time and air, notes of smoked salt and poire also surface.What was a relatively simple wine in its youth is, I think, better for having waited. It’s hard to imagine this being any better than it is right now, especially considering the price.