
I had always wanted to go to western NSW. Orange in particular and perhaps, to a lesser extent, to Mudgee. My father is from the Hunter Valley and yet I had never made the leap farther west to either of these towns. It was time to go with my brother Glen and son Jack in tow. The attached photo shows Glen after a long drive and Jack after too much cola!
My interest was piqued by the fine produce, especially game, coming out of Orange and more so, by the leap into independent cool climate viticulture in both regions, in many cases forced by the failure of Fosters and other giants to renew growers' contracts in NSW wine growing districts. While it is easy for me-sitting here in front of this device-to wax about the benefits of independent growing and the Darwinian necessity of such a leap in lieu of Wine Australia's belated emphasis on Australian regionalism; the fractious undercurrents caused by a global oversupply of wine and the ruthless nature of multinationals for whom wine is merely another product among a slew of others; not to mention over-eager growers chafing at the bit due to ill-advised government incentives; have inflicted economic duress on many in the Australian wine industry and there is no point in being glib for the sake of an entertaining blog.
Nevertheless, positively, large mechanically harvested vineyards from former regimes are increasingly being turned into smaller plots attuned to grape variety and soil potentiality with an emphasis on site-specificity in some cases, and less interventionist winemaking in many instances. Surely this will have long-term gains. In a few cases such as at Bloodwood, independent, idiosyncratic and highly articulate expressions of grape and site have always been part of the regional idiom.
Thus, it was with high expectations that my brother Glen who had taken time off from Sydney's Bentley Bar, my son Jack who gallantly trails his dad around wine regions of the world at the age of four and I, ever aware that Jack does not necessarily enjoy these journeys and hankers for the company of other children; set forth. Firstly to Mudgee.
Before I proceed, kindly note that only wines considered to be a good drink and intriguing as a reflection of whence they came-site and hand-will be noted.
Perhaps I should define 'a good drink'. A 'good drink' is that which inspires the urge for another glass and another after that. We are but animals and have a natural proclivity toward that which tastes good. What tastes good? Despite minor subjective gripes such as 'you like, but I like...', I believe quality assessment to be of great importance-absolutely necessary in fact-when defining a qualitative rubric for taste in wine.
Of course, wines must be judged in context. While a $20 Merlot made without oak and with minimal maceration on skins and other extraction techniques may be highly gulpable, it will likely be less complex than a $50 Merlot-based wine from say Pomerol, that has been given ample time in quality new oak and has sufficient extract for long-term ageing. Then again, ageability is not the point of the Merlot and this should be adjudicated when assessing its quality, just as a poorly balanced Pomerol may well be nasty and undrinkable if overly extracted or under-ripe, for example. Quality assessment is useful if not coldhearted, defined by a rigid set of parameters: intensity, concentration, length, complexity etc. Useful yes and not at all subjective really, for to believe so is nihilistic.
Good quality wine should be defined as such whether you or I like it or not. Conversely, what we like is up to use and we can champion our opinions in the market by buying Riesling over Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand for example, but that is aside the point.
Most important to my critiques is that a wine has something lucid to say for itself-that which sets it apart from so many other good wines in the market-be it quality for the price, formidable expression of site and sleight of hand, or something-as with some wines reviewed below-that makes me want to grab a bottle and drink with gusto. This, I assure you, is an infrequent occurrence.
Drinkability is of prime importance for it allows us to enjoy wine with ease due to an inherent balance between judicious fruit-ripeness and the meld of acid and tannin, or a wine's structural components. Quite simply, if something is balanced and suitably ripe; animals including us humans want it.
Our first appointment was with the amiable Jacob Stein at
Robert Stein vineyards. As the name suggests, there is German heritage in dem' bones and it was perhaps the Rieslings that most impressed.
Robert Stein Half-Dry Riesling 2010: clear cut aromas of lime juice-almost lime cordial-reverberating on a relaxed palate that is rather slatey but not at all austere as is the case with certain overly acidified Australian Rieslings. The finish is long and tangy with around 18 grams / litre of residual sugar balancing Riesling's forceful acid profile. A nice drink for AUD 22! 86
Robert Stein Reserve Riesling 2009: kaffir lime and oily aromas supported by a weightier, more concentrated palate. A drier, formidably concentrated larger-framed wine but again, the structural aspects of the wine are not forced but relaxed, persistent and allowing for a long, layered finish that bodes well for a decade of ageing. 91
Jacob also introduced us to a regional Chardonnay initiative whose thread was evident at other wineries. Essentially, the idea is to make Chardonnays that are distinctly not about fruit but rather, are crafted with ambient yeasts in mostly neutral wood and given ample time on gros lees for texture with variable degrees of malolactic fermentation.
This approach sounds simple enough but it is this 'let it run' mentality that has failed to instill itself into the thinking of many New World winemakers, steeped in a technocratic approach that controls each and every aspect of the winemaking process with predictable results oft-defined by fault-free flavour profiles and textures deemed necessary to sate a certain sector of the market. As this sector grows up and tastes mature however, Australian wine styles must mature with it. Jacob's Robert Stein 'Third Generation' Chardonnay suggests that this is indeed happening.
Robert Stein 'Third Generation' Chardonnay 2010: restrained aromas of nectarine and earthy wild yeast funk. Mid-weight leesy palate with some layered complexity and suitable concentration. While many winemakers in the New World loosely define this sort of wine as an attempt at Chablis, my belief is that this style of wine more closely resembles good Macon because of the softer acidity. Good value at AUD 20. 86
Finally, Robert Stein's
'Premium Range' Cabernet Sauvignon 2009 provided a clandestine source of enjoyment at the Orient Hotel (pub in Australish) later that evening. I had mistakenly bought a wine at the bar that had been battered by American oak and was so chocolate-smudged and minty to be undrinkable. My brother, Glen, went to the car and smuggled a bottle purchased at Robert Stein's cellar door in under his jacket! The wine offers impeccable varietal typicity on the nose-currant and a hint of savoury leafiness- a sappy mid-weight palate, no oak, very little complexity and yet juicy acidity, a sneaky finish and delicious drinkability! Drink now; drink by the case! 88
Our next stop was David Lowe at
Lowe Family Wine Co. David is the president of the New South Wales Wine Association and had plenty of say about the lack of support the state's wines find in the state's institutions. Case in point is the Art Gallery of NSW which has only three NSW wines on its restaurant's wine list. In any event, to the wines.
The
'Tinja' range is an organic, preservative-free-and for the money-ridiculously good value tier at AUD 20 that proved among the most delicious of this idiom tasted anywhere.
Tinja Rieslings are grown at 1,180 meters on decomposed slate and quartz. There are no additions which means that while there is residual sulphur-dioxide post-fermentation, nothing more is added. This includes acidity.
2010: David called this a 'maniac's wine' due to the flinty, slatey composition and austerity of the palate. Indeed, the wine was akin to sucking white stones. Not that I have ever done this of course albeit, I did plaster bubble gum over ant holes as a kid, curious about what proved to be a bitter and slightly curried flavor of small black ants. The 2010 is bone dry yet only 10% alcohol and not at all green. This needs time to fill out but the stuffing is there for a good decade of age or more. It needs white fish carpaccio of some sort, dressed with a light chili lime vinaigrette, if attempted now. 91
2009: a broader palate here giving the wine a mellifluous ease in light of the former Riesling's obdurate carapace. This wine boasts apple and pear gelato notes; with 8 grams of residual sugar to balance the racy natural acid. 88
2007: this wine was interrupted by David's holler, 'You wanna` go throw things, Jack?' Jack, my young `un, was rightfully impatient as the sun disappeared, the stars were set ablaze by the darkness and the frigid wind stung from cheeks to bones. We were high up, after all. Jack was hungry. David gave him a basket and set him off to pick and chuck tomatoes. We returned to the tasting while my mind drifted off to the nooks and crannies where King Brown snakes hide, my son's ankle in a set of jaws with tomato dribbling down his chin....The 2007 was rather phenolic and disjointed with less of a sleek frame and lower acidity. The wine needs richer white meats with perhaps a mushroom duxelle to tame its tactile chewiness. David explained that the year had been very hot with thicker grape skins. This phenolic grip is often called 'skinsy' texture or even 'skinsyness' in wine-speak. 86
Tinja Merlot 2010: 'My Dolcetto', David exclaimed. I could see why. The colour was inky purple with grapey aromas, some peat and a hint of violet; intoxicating and savoury rather than sweet and deterring. These qualities reverberated on a mid-weight, round palate of judiciously managed tannins-soft yet apparent to the point of balancing the fruit-and brisk acidity. No oak and simple in the best sense. Yum! I thought this wine to be the finest 'preservative free' wine yet tasted and it truly shamed much of the poorly made, fault-laden 'natural' wine that we see here in Japan. I could drink the entire bottle in one draft like Captain Slaughterboard so perhaps I am being a little overexcited in bestowing it with 92, but sheer drinkability is surely worth a great deal!
Now to David's Reserve range which are all fermented with ambient yeasts and not mucked about, apparently-
Reserve Zinfandel 2008: Californian Dry Creek-like aromas of burnt orange rind and kirsch; a sweet and sour tang; followed by a creamy palate exhibiting blueberry notes, moderate fine grained tannins and fresh acidity for line and length. While I am not a Zinfandel fan (although I place it far above my desert island anathema, Nero d'Avola), I thought this wine to be so noteworthy as to call it one of the most iconoclastic wines in Australia. 93
Reserve Shiraz '06: not particularly expressive on nose aside from a bourbon-like polish from American oak, yet wild in the mouth with notes of espresso, peat and bouillon. Lively and bodes well for keeping in an old-fashioned sort of way due to a slightly heavy-handed oak regime. 89
Next to
Di Lusso which, as the name suggests, is an adventurous practitioner of Italian varieties.
Vermentino 2009: aromas of sage, pine resin, some stone fruit and marzipan. Excellent varietal typicity although the palate appears unsure as to whether it wants to be akin to a Tuscan expression or Sardinian. Personally, I think the wine could use a bit more stuffing from slightly later harvesting and some less work for texture. Otherwise, suave and long. 87
'Il Polio' 2006: a whiff of Italianesque volatility is an appropriate lead into a briny palate of sour cherry notes and dusty tannins, indicative of the Sangiovese component. The wine is a little bit sweet perhaps due to the endeavour to emulate a Super Tuscan-type style and international grapes such as Cabernet Sauvignon in the mix. However, this is where the volatility comes into play to tidy things up a bit, leading to a moreish, moderately long finish. 89