Blue Poles Allouran 2007

Ever since I comprehensively fucked up my student wine earlier this year, I’ve had a fondness for Cabernet Franc. While crushing the grapes by hand, I smelled the most distinctively peppery aroma, fresh and sharp, that I recognised from wines consumed in the past but had never smelled with quite that combination of purity and deliciousness.

Pleasingly, this wine, though a Merlot-dominant blend, captures some of that distinctive Franc aroma. To my nose, the Franc component is quite evident. That mélange of of pepper and sweetly roasted red capsicum, both sharp and pretty, sits atop deeper Merlot aromas and some powdery vanilla oak. This wine smells highly integrated, so it’s a little misleading to describe it in terms of separate notes; aromas melt into one another with pleasure. Overall, there’s a fresh liveliness to this wine’s aroma that is really attractive.

The palate shows genuine elegance. A rush of dark plum fruit flavour on entry, with some high toned pepper providing some light to the fruit’s shade. The mid palate shows some nervy acidity that provides tight focus to the line. Indeed, this wine has a way to go yet before it allows itself deep relaxation. The flavours, though tending towards a slight simplicity in the plum spectrum, are very well matched and balanced. Oak character is sympathetic to the fruit and interlocks with its flavours like a lover’s hands. The after palate shows the most sucrosité of any point along the line. The finish is decent, not thinning out until the last moments of its presence on the tongue.

Nice wine, exceptional value.

Blue Poles Vineyard
Price: $A25
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Blue Poles Reserve Merlot 2008

On Friday, I was fortunate enough to spend time with Mark Gifford of Blue Poles Vineyard. Amongst the wines we tasted were his current 2007 Reserve Merlot, and this 2008 wine, due for release in the near future. I wrote glowingly and, I think, correctly about the 2007, so it was fascinating to taste the two side by side. On Friday, I preferred the 2008 for its tautness and intellect, finding the 2007 soft-edged by comparison. The following evening, when I retasted both, the 2007 had zapped into focus, giving the 2008 a real run for its money. I still can’t decide which I like more. What’s clear is they are both exceptional wines, and in the uppermost echelons of Australian Merlot.

The aroma is heady, deeply fruited, dark and savoury-edged, with perfume-like basenotes of woody spice and spicy oak, tonka bean and juicy leaves. It’s both accessible and complex, at times almost overwhelmingly forthright but always remaining fundamentally elusive and unable to be easily dissected. There’s an element of the strip tease to this wine that is quite compelling.

Entry is dark, just hinting at a sort of plush decadence before showing controlled movement to the middle palate. Here, the full spectrum of this wine’s flavours and structural components becomes evident. Tobacco leaves; savoury berry fruits with just a hint of Merlot’s teddy bear side; abundant, sweet, textural tannins, like rough sandpaper; acidity that holds everything in its place and takes a moment to express its own flourish before whisking the whole bundle of flavours through a raspy, delicious after palate. What a mouthful. The finish is held somewhat in check right now due to all that structure, but is likely to gain greater extension and fullness once the wine has had time to relax.
One could be forgiven for thinking this is even better than the 2007.  

Blue Poles Vineyard
Price: $A35
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Sample

Howard Park Riesling 2009

It’s endlessly contested, but beauty (if it exists at all) is something I search for in wine as in most things. Perhaps that marks me as profoundly romantic, or foolish, but if something so inessential, so essentially frivolous as wine doesn’t encapsulate an aesthetic of a kind, then I really do wonder the point of it at all. Hence my difficult relationship with wines that express themselves on a purely functional level – I’d rather drink beer. 

Riesling is a varietal that gets me excited because it sometimes reminds me, more than any other wine, of perfume. I, along with my excellent co-author Chris, are fans of fragrance, and Riesling, in its expressive austerity, comes closest to the manufactured landscapes of man-made smells. Which is quite remarkable, really, as a commercial smell is carefully crafted, layered and assembled to be both distinctive and reproducible; one might reasonably assume a relatively haphazard aroma like that of wine would never come close. Yet it does, to my delight and endless fascination.
This wine isn’t perfect, but it has a sense of construction and layered complexity that excites me. The aroma is awash with high toned, aldehydic aromas that echo the extravagant top notes of an old-fashioned, French whorehouse-type cologne. There are some deeper, lemon rind notes underneath the florals that provide an anchor of sorts, something fleshier around which more fleeting aromas can circle.
The palate is quite generous and, compared to some Howard Park Rieslings I recall from the late 1990s, much less austerely acidic. This isn’t such a bad thing, especially for present drinking. There’s a dramatic but cuddly entry onto the palate, followed by a wash of soft lime juice through the mid-palate. It’s a bit lazy, but it’s also very pretty, content to be admired for its easy charm. A tangy after palate and long finish round things off well.

Howard Park
Price: $A22
Closure: Stelvin
Source: Retail

Tesco Finest Great Southern Riesling 2002

“This wine will improve if carefully stored for up to 3 years from purchase,” it says on the back of the bottle… and I bought it something like six and a half years ago. Whoops. Thankfully, though, it doesn’t seem to be a problem, although the nose is definitely full on kero funky and somewhat of a shock. It’s also got notes of grapefruit rind, minerals, and honey, but mostly it just smells kind of bad in that “yeah, I know, but it’s going to taste better than it smells, right?” kind of way.Does it? Well… yes, but it’s beyond pretty much anything I’ve tasted before. If anything, it tastes like cosmetic jars from an antique store; there’s a hint of face cream or jasmine or something here, but in just barely perceptible amounts. Still, though, there’s just enough sugar (or the perception of sweetness) to mix with the strenuous acidity and offer up something that is thankfully still appealing. Not particularly complex, and not particularly aromatic, it’s still ticking along just fine at this point and makes a great accompaniment to hummus or a Portuguese octopus stew.Howard Park

Closure: Stelvin

Devil's Lair Chardonnay 2007

There’s a pork roast in the oven, to be accompanied by a variety of roasted vegetables (including parsnip, which I adore) and this wine. A few sips before the food is ready, though.

The nose is misleading me at first, because it seems full of oatmeal, cream, hints of caramel and other signs of manipulation, suggesting a wine dominated by winemaking artifact. Give it a a few swirls, then, to bring clean, grapefruity aromas to the fore. There’s actually a lot going on here, including a rather sharp note that I’m having trouble describing but for which I shall use the word “herbal” (in a thyme-like manner), via sea water. It’s darned expressive, helped by what is an altogether piercing aroma profile.
The palate is similarly complex, and what I like most is how its overt caramel and oat flavours don’t in any way equal flab or a lack of shape. In fact, this is a taut, tightly controlled wine from start to finish. A really elegant entry into the mouth, with flavour that builds smoothly to a middle palate of decent intensity. The fruit flavour is firmly in the grapefruit spectrum, with a bit of white nectarine poking its head in. I like the slippery mouthfeel here, which is an interesting foil to the firm acid structure. As the wine relaxes into its after palate, the more worked flavour profile begins to dominate, with really delicious sharp caramel and mealy elements, along with a harder thread that seems part oak, part acid-derived to me (its character is almost metallic or briney with a sappy quality too). Quite a long, soft finish.
This is a heap of wine for the money. For mine, I’d prefer a slightly less aggressive, hard profile, but perhaps time will take care of that. Really nice Chardonnay.

Devil’s Lair
Price: $A28.95
Closure: Stelvin

Blue Poles Hopping Stone Tempranillo 2007

The second Blue Poles Vineyard wine to be tasted at Full Pour and, like the first, a thought-provoking little number. 

A complex nose that balances spice and sweet fruit with aplomb. There’s a nice vibe to the aroma, with cherry-like fruit and very well-balanced chocolate and nougat oak, plus a light blanket of brown spice and a shake of pepper. There’s a lot going on, but the overall impression is of juicy straightforwardness, in the same way a good steak seems to express a world of flavour while remaining a single ingredient.
In the mouth, a lovely mix of fruit, spice and quite assertive tannin. More cherries squish on the tongue with a dash of cinnamon and nutmeg, plus some slightly leafy notes.  Some cedar-like oak, though very much in the background, contributes a bit of spine to the flavour profile. I like the structure here; the tannins are abundant and almost chalky, quite delicious in fact, and the acid is lively and fine, providing a lovely blanket on which all the other elements can rest. Overall, the wine is medium bodied and shoots for elegance above density or sheer power. Very good length, which may grow more impressive as the wine ages and its structure allows the fruit to flow more freely.
This is an extremely convincing expression of Tempranillo that makes a great case for this combination of region and variety.

Blue Poles Vineyard
Price: $A22
Closure: Stelvin

Blue Poles Reserve Merlot 2007

The third of three recent Merlots and, to jump to the end, this wine elicits a big “wow” from me. If you like good Merlot, good red wine, or good things generally, put in your order.

We’re not about summary judgement here at Full Pour, though, so now comes the task of describing the wine, which is considerably more difficult than simply recommending it. The first thing to note is it’s very young but, unlike the 2007 Unison Merlot, is drinking very well right now. A bit tight on opening, the aroma has melted over the course of an hour to reveal gorgeous red and black berries, tobacco leaf, some classy cedar oak, and general savouriness, all expressed within a cleanly articulated structure that draws the elements together in one repeatedly sniffable package. 
On the palate, the intensity of fruit becomes fully apparent, as does a structure of beautiful clarity. Medium bodied, this wine starts subtly on entry, with mostly savoury notes (some sulphur-derived influences perhaps?) leading into a gradual crescendo of red and black berry fruit. There is a range of other elements that participate in the flavour profile, many of a richly leafy character, and subtly vanillan oak plays a part too.  Although there are tannins aplenty, they don’t unduly block the wine’s expression, even at this early stage in its life.  On the after palate, the fruit character morphs into a decadent liqueur-like expression. Very impressive finish.
One often reads descriptions of Merlot in terms of rich, soft fruitiness and a slight absence of structure. Flip this on its head and you have something akin to this wine, which is all about precise fruit, firm structure and a sense of sophistication that transcends my poor attempt to transcribe the experience of drinking it. 

Blue Poles Vineyard
Price: $A35
Closure: Stelvin

Woodlands Margaret Reserve Cabernet Merlot Malbec 2007

Criticism is one of those things that can be as hard to pin down as the object being critiqued. I look at, say, writing on film through the twentieth century and it seems to trace a path from James Agee to Cahiers du Cinéma, then from Pauline Kael and Andrew Sarris to… Roger Ebert. In other words, from interdisciplinary critics with an awesome sense of cultural perspective, to an explosive bunch of enthusiasts turned filmmakers intent on discussing film in new ways, to a few iconic, fiercely intellectual writers with hugely influential views on cinema to… thumbs up, thumbs down.

So my narrative is deliberately misleading, as I’m sure there has always existed a plebian form of criticism the purpose of which is mostly to act as a guide for consumers, and that’s ok. There’s a place for it, and I admit that I read Roger Ebert (he worked with Russ Meyer, after all). But as a film nut, I reach for Kael, or Sarris, or the few contemporary icons like Paglia to get my critical thrills. And there seems to me a dearth of writers at the moment who work within an intellectual framework accessible to those without University educations in French Theory (apologies to those readers, and I know you’re out there, with University educations in French Theory) yet whose intent is to progress the conversation on film, rather than to make undemocratic calls on what is worth seeing and what isn’t. And, further, this causes me to wonder whether something like wine, an agricultural product (albeit a rarified one), ought to be discussed in the same manner. It rarely is, and I’d answer immediately “no” based purely on the simplicity of the object, except it goes against my instinct to reduce something created with such deliberate intent, even if from basic raw materials, to equally basic critical terms.

Clearly because I have too much time on my hands, I was wondering about this as I opened the 07 Woodlands Margaret. I’ve read a few reviews of it and they have ranged from utter raves to more measured praise. I wondered on what side I’d fall. Would I love the wine and tell my long suffering readers all about it? Or would I be vaguely disappointed, forced into wondering how I might express this disappointment without being obnoxiously presumptous regarding my own discernment?

Neither, as it turns out, because what interests me about this wine are notions of style, which are perhaps the most subjective, problematic aspects of wine, and consequently the most interesting to me. Wines like this demand to be discussed in critical terms far removed from thumbs up, thumbs down. In an acknowledged good (perhaps great) vintage in Margaret River, producers might no doubt take their pick of how to approach their winemaking. So, it’s especially provocative to taste a wine like this which is determinedly light and delicate, perhaps even marginal in terms of weight and ripeness. It’s almost outrageously aromatic, and as such it is appealing, but the aroma profile is so gamine that calling the wine sexy feels like a form of vinous paedophilia. Very high toned aromas of cedar, gravel, red fruits, bubble gum and flowers. A very slight green edge that seems half varietal and half unripe.

The palate starts in fine form with a nice rush of oak and floral fruit. Light to medium bodied; at least, it appears it will pan out that way until the middle palate seems to die a little death just as you’re wanting to experience petit mort. Even lots of swirling can’t coax much additional substance from the wine, so I’ll need to be satisfied with a marginal sense of dissatisfaction as I taste complex fruit flavours with a nice jammy edge (the Malbec, perhaps?). There’s plenty of acid and very fine, drying tannins so, structurally, we’re in fine territory. Nice long, light, delicate finish.

I’ve no doubt this is the wine that was intended to be made, so drinking it isn’t so much a question of evaluating achievement as it is challenging one’s concept of what Margaret River Cabernet should be. It’s so lean and etched, one can’t help but admire the detail. It reminds me of Kate Moss when she first hit the scene; impossibly thin, with the most beautiful bone structure, yet ethereal to the point of appearing sickly. I wonder if resonant beauty, the sort that makes you fearful and lusty at the same time, needs a bit more flesh on its bones?

Woodlands
Price: $A36.50
Closure: Stelvin