Vinoculation

I had the chance to duck out to the Gibbston Valley yesterday on a rainy, miserable Sunday, to visit four wineries: The Winehouse (not really a winery but a cellar door for several wineries), Chard Farm, Gibbston Valley Wines and Peregrine. No official notes were taken, but here are my brief thoughts from the trip.

Starting at the Queenstown end of the Gibbston and working our way back, we first visited the Winehouse and Kitchen, a cellar door facility for Rock Ferry, Van Asch and Freefall wines that also doubles as a classy little restaurant. It’s located right next to the AJ Hackett Bungy and the views of the surrounding gorge are magnificent, as is the landscaping and atmosphere of the facility itself. Rock Ferry is a label owned by Tom Hutchinson and based out of Marlborough, though they do have a 20ha vineyard in Bendigo that they also make wine from (the Viognier is from this vineyard). Van Asch wines are those of Henry Van Asch who set up the bungy business with AJ Hackett and the Freefall Wines are his second tier brand.

We were permitted five wines to taste (for $7) and I went for the 2007 Rock Ferry Riesling, 2008(?) Van Asch Riesling, 2008 Rock Ferry Viognier, 2008 Van Asch Rose and the 2007 Van Asch Pinot Noir. A couple of Freefall Pinots were also snuck in, along with a 2006 Van Asch Pinot Noir. The Rock Ferry Riesling stood out and was in fact one of my favourite wines from the day of tasting. A drier style (nice to see), with lovely weight and texture but remaining lithe, crisp and clean. The Viognier follows a similar script and is certainly one to look out for. I preferred the 2006 Van Asch Pinot to the 2007; the latter just too young and closed.

After surviving the hairy drive that winds up the cliffside of the gorge to Chard Farm, we tasted through most of the range (no charge for tasting, though a gold coin donation is recommended if no purchase is made). I thought the bubbly (a special wine made for the 21st anniversary of Chard Farm wines) was terrific, a 50/50 blend of Pinot Noir and Chardonnay, that was very yeasty with some definite development from a long maturation on lees. A surprising start, though the label may need some work… Tasting through the range of whites and reds, the Gewurz stood out as a classy example of the variety, with the Rose a little disappointing. The 2006 Viper and Tiger Pinot Noirs (the flagships) are classic Pinots of the vintage, markedly different to the textural and fleshy 2005s, boasting more structure for mine and savoury qualities as well. Neither better nor worse than their predecessors, just different wines that will appeal to different people.

At Gibbston Valley Wines our time was short-lived, with the option to pay for a tasting plate of four wines, but instead I politely asked for just a taste of the 2007 Le Fou Riesling and the cellar door staff kindly obliged. This was a wine I had been very eager to try after hearing a couple of rave reviews. Regrettably, it didn’t live up to my expectations. I’m not a big fan of the sherbert, bath-salt style aromatics of certain Rieslings, which pushed me away from the aromatics straight away. It’s made in the classic off-dry style, with some nicely tangy acidity, but again the flavours seem candied and sugar-coated, with the sugar and acidity failing to unite. All this, with some astringency and bitterness on the finish, and I wasn’t a big fan. I should qualify this by saying that my disagreeance was the result more of a stylistic clash than any obvious faults or quality issues with the wine.

Last stop was Peregrine that seemed the busiest of all the cellar doors visited. Like Chard Farm, there was no charge for tasting here (something I strongly believe in). We worked our way through the range, starting with two Rieslings (the drier one and the sweeter Rastasburn, where I preferred the former), followed by two Pinot Gris. We tried the standard Pinot Gris and the new “Karearea” Pinot Gris (the Maori equivalent of Peregrine), a top-end version made in a full, dry style utilizing premium fruit and this was a stellar Pinot Gris (a comment I don’t make lightly, given my usual cynicism of this variety); beautiful texture, weight and fruit intensity on the palate. I then chose to move straight into the Pinots, where we tried a 2005 Saddleback (the second tier range), 2007 Peregrine and 2007 Peregrine Karearea. The Saddleback seemed a little tired and over the hill (a slight surprise given the vivacity of the vintage), the 2007 Peregrine still in need of some extra bottle time (the 2006 is drinking superbly) and the Karearea was brilliant; this is the sort of wine that is positioned as a premium version (priced at $65) and it will hold its own against some of the best from the region. Gorgeous dark berry fruit aromatics - brooding a little - with textural layers and a seamless quality in the mouth, finishing with fine, sweet tannins.

So that wrapped up the little wine-tasting journey, with the first and last wines my picks of the day.

One of my first 2008 Rieslings and if this wine is anything to go by, the outlook is very encouraging for this vintage.

The nose speaks of that quintessential Central Otago lime, with a fruit bowl of other citrus in tow and, interestingly, some spice and pear characters. Quite a delight to sniff. It’s a wine that’s worth warming up and not serving too cold, plus it seems to have developed (for the better) on the second night after a sleepover in the fridge.

The palate has also softened out, losing some of that slight spritzig and nervy, racy acidity. Look for this in the first glass and enjoy its evolution. The flavours on the palate don’t necessarily mirror the punch or intensity of the aromatics, though perhaps this is a blessing, allowing a more casual, broader and gentler experience in the mouth. Allowed to retain some residual sugar in the classic NZ off-dry style, the balance is exceptional and bodes well for the wine’s longevity.

Finishing long and cleansing - the acidity almost crunchy - it’s a delicious wine and has reinforced my thoughts on Chard Farm as a quiet over-achiever in the Riesling arena. Great Summer drinking.

Starting out strong here is likely a good way to introduce myself to the Vinoculation hordes.  So much pressure for such a new writer, how does one avoid buckling under the pressure?  I think it might be a good idea to start with a brief self portrait, so that you, oh faithful readers, have some idea of who happens to be going on and on about this or that gorgeous nuance in his glass.  Oh, the terroir.  I can smell it now.

If we want to put forward professional, or at least paper credentials, to a name, I am the proud recipient/owner/experiencer of the following: WSET Advanced Diploma, Spanish Wine Educator certification through the Spanish Wine Institute, and have spent the past 4 years as a wine merchant in Vancouver, Canada. I have built store inventory from nil to 2000+ labels, with options from lowly bulk wine to back vintages from classic wine regions. I’ve managed and served in fine restaurants before that, and before that still I apprenticed under a few talented chefs. If you take nothing else from this history, I hope it’s obvious that I love wine and food.

Perhaps that’s enough, but what are you looking for from a wine writer?

I suppose what I’m getting at is that, despite all of the above, you have few guarantees when it comes to the quality of my writing and palate. Gladly, such a statement applies just as readily to an unopened bottle of wine. There is no way to guarantee the quality of an item by seeing it from the outside; one needs to get in to it, get it inside, and gain direct experiential knowledge of the thing. When it comes to my writing, as with wine, everyone can judge for themselves through reading and comparing against experience. If good wine never shows poorly, likewise with writing.

So to wrap up, I look forward to sharing my experiences with you, faithful readers. I look forward to hearing of your experiences, and comparing them to my own as I explore this beautiful country and its wines. The quest for interesting, good wine is a thirsty one; may it never be quenched!

Another wine from the stables of Wallington in the Central Ranges of New South Wales. This boutique outfit also makes olive oil and is currently progressing through organic conversion. Nice.

I’m unsure what “Rockdell” refers to, other than the obvious that the fruit is sourced from a rocky dell or valley. This blend is made up of roughly equal thirds Shiraz, Grenache and Mourvedre with just a smidge of Petit Verdot. The nose smacks you with an uppercut of ripe, plummy fruit, both red and black spectrum, with hints of tar, liquorice, pepper, prune and leather.

Deft acid handling keeps the palate lively and vibrant, showcasing the swathes of fresh and dried berry fruit, with the oak adding some richness and depth to the tannin. The front-palate mouthfeel begins slippery and slick, gaining some coarser traction as it spreads throughout and finishes slightly chewy, robust with grainy tannins. It’s a rustic style that captures the typicity of the blend well, best drunk with food as a young wine (a rare rump steak worked well in my case). This is definitely a cellar-worthy prospect, built with oodles of structure, and sure to be even more interesting and enjoyable in a decade’s time.

Let me first qualify this post.

I love Mount Edward. I love Alan Brady, I love Duncan Forsyth, I love that they are going through organic conversion. Me likey.

But I do have high expectations. The 2007 Morrison Vineyard Pinot came across the tasting bench and I had to steady myself. This is a single vineyard Pinot from Mount Edward’s Lowburn vineyard. Lownburn is a subregion of Central Otago that seems to capture some intense heat and a little more rain than say Bannockburn or Bendigo, given its proximity to the Pisa Ranges. Straight examples of Lowburn fruit are few and far between, so this is an exciting release.

The wine exudes intense fruit aromas of macerated black cherries with the odd blackberry and boysenberry thrown in for good measure. It’s still very primary, as one would expect, having been in bottle less than a year. There’s an enticing floral element to the nose too, accompanied by sweet vanillin and briar. It’s a nose that speaks of the wine’s origins; far from being a stalky, gamey, leathery Pinot of the Old World, the fruit is so gorgeously attractive and ripe, so much so that you can almost taste the luxuriously fleshy and velvet texture just from a sniff.

In the mouth, it’s a seamless love story from start to finish. Silky, polished and all other verbose descriptors that conjure up thoughts of a freshly waxed sports car or similar; this wine is it. It’s scarily approachable on the palate for its youth, borne of a structure with impeccable balance right from the word go. More black-spectrum berry fruit, with a deft spicyness that plays attractively with the subtle acidity. The tannins on the first mouthful are very, very fine, so after a few more sips it was pleasing to find that they bulk up somewhat, which is how I like my tannins in Pinot. Great length with mulberry-esque qualities and all in all, a delicious Pinot. I really think this is a wine that will drink best in its first five years, but I’d love to be proven wrong. Only 48 cases made (!) and I suspect it has already sold out, but a great time to join the Mount Edward mailing list nonetheless.

It’s a little unusual to see sparkling Pinot Noirs, but it would seem that they are very slowly becoming a popular alternative to the typical Shiraz used for most Aussie red bubbly. Thankfully, these wines have not yet been discovered by infamous international wine critics and the prices remain modest, even though the nation’s best examples can fetch prices in excess of $60 a bottle. It has now become tradition for me to crack many a red bubbly over the Xmas season and this year I snuck in the odd Pinot Noir.

Refreshingly, the Wallington “Cervantes” (a reference to the author of Don Quixote) was crown sealed to preserve freshness and vitality with no risk of cork taint or reduction. I can see a lot more fizz going down this path, as soon as the consumer confronts their “cheap beer cap” demons and the lack of the classic popping cork.

The colour was a ruby red with a very fine, gentle mousse. One could easily mistake the nose for that of a sparkling Shiraz, with gobs of sweet, juicy fruit and a surprising amount of complexity; black raspberry, liquorice, kirsch, vanillin and sarsaparilla. The super concentrated fruit/liqueur nature of the wine is echoed on the palate, with pleasant front palate sweetness and tannin, hints of a slightly cocoa texture and then a considerably lengthy finish.

Supremely enjoyable to drink. Though quite sweet, there is enough savoury flavour and textural qualities to provide structural integrity and give the wine the balance it deserves.

From the slopes of Mt Canobolas in Orange, New South Wales, comes another wine from the Patina stable. The colour is a pale, light yellow and the aromas comprise mineral, talc, lemon, orange blossom and, like the back label suggests, pear (odd for Riesling). Borne of one of Australia’s cooler climate regions, winemaker Gerald Naef has kept with the Aussie trend of producing a drier style. He does it well.

 The acidity on the palate is lively and crunchy, swathed in citrus fruit, without being dominant or piercing as many can in their youth. The flavours on the palate cross over into lemon/lime spectrum, not intense, but not dilute either; an elegant, restrained and lithe Riesling that is scarily easy to drink (even for Riesling). The finish is kept in check, with just the slightest hint of astringency buoying the length and mouthfeel. I thought it was sensational with linguine marinara, though any seafood-related dish would suffice. A bargain wine that comes with a strong endorsement.

Well, this could very well be the first ever Rosé reviewed on Vinoculation. There is no doubting that I will receive plenty of stick from Dave over it, but it is Xmas, so I am allowed this very metrosexual indulgence. This wine, and three others, were kindly sent to me by David Cumming of Define Wine. I’m not terribly familiar with the Patina wines, but they come from Orange in New South Wales and it appears to be somewhat of a boutique winery.

The wine was served chilled and had a red foundation colour, with hues of orange and salmon. The nose, while reticent and quite subtle initially, did warm up to offer raspberry, musk, rose petal and hints of citrus rind. In the mouth it is plesantly textural, the palate flavours quite unobtrusive, as they should be in Rosé. There is adequate acid to keep everything buoyant, which actually adds to the drinkability, though I wouldn’t be complaining if it was a tad livelier. As a result, it doesn’t appear bone dry, though I suspect that any sugar present is really quite minimal. As the wine warms up, so too does the palate, but only very slightly; in any case, it’s a bit shameful really that I’m not drinking my glass fast enough. There is a splash of tannin on the finish that has been well integrated and supports the wine’s structure and length. All in all, a Rosé that is quite delicious to drink and doesn’t require too much brain matter; mission accomplished.

After a long flight with an extended delay in Chicago, on the below average United Airlines, I arrived with much excitement and anticipation to Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris, France. One bus and three trains later, I found myself on the steps of Gard de Beaune. A quick phone call and Blair Pethal appeared and took me back to the winery and accompanying house of Domaine Dublere. The winery is situated on the outskirts of Beaune on the way to Savenay-les-Beaune. This was where I was to spend the best part of the next month helping with the 2008 Burgundian harvest.

Blair is a very interesting person. A man who seems to really be ecstatic with his lot in life. For the duration of harvest I had the pleasure of helping Blair realize his passion of turning a year’s meticulous hard work in the vineyard into the gorgeous, unctuous and downright awesome wine that Domaine Dublere achieves.  Domaine Dublere typified what the very best Burgundian wine producers are known for—excellent viticulture that produces fantastic quality grapes which are then guided through vinification into becoming an elegant and complex elixir which wows wine aficionados the world over.

The first day I was there we did about 19 hours work; we picked a block of Mersault and then processed it. Now when I say picked I mean bending down to the fruiting wire in Burgundy which happens to be about 30 centimetres off the ground. Luckily I was identified as the big guy who is not very flexible and was assigned the duty of porter. A position I would hold throughout most of harvest when out in the vineyard. This duty involved carrying an aluminum basket holding contraption up and down rows and having all the other workers dump their loads…of grapes…. on my back. Sticky juice would run down the back of my thighs and itch like crazy. I still think I had the better end though as all that bending would have killed my back.

As we progressed through harvest it became apparent that the amount of care taken in the vineyard and indeed right throughout the process of transforming grapes into the wine in the bottle was paramount. Attention to detail was key and any wavering from that line could cause disaster. In the 2008 growing season if a farmer missed even one spray it could have meant up to 100% loss of grapes to rot and certainly meant a dramatic drop in total grape must quality from the affected parcel. It became apparent that it is not easy to be a wine producer in Burgundy. The climate and terroir really stresses the vines which really are growing in extreme conditions, right on the edge of being unable to produce grapes worthy of wine production. With cold winters and barely adequate summers it is a wonder maturity is reached at all. However, I think it is these factors that make the wine fantastic, and gives those passionate enough to toil in the vineyard to produce great wines such satisfaction in a job well done when the grapes finally arrive to maturity and begin the lengthy vinification and elevage processes.

Blair Pethel was definitely one of the meticulous ones. Where rot devastated parcels right next to ours in Chassagne-Montrachet and in the flatter land around Meursault and Savigny-les-Beaune we managed to salvage a crop which considering the vintage was very healthy indeed. We had our fair share of Botrytis mid bunch but the care and attention to detail displayed in the winery really showed why the wines are of such a high standard. It was all in the sorting, sometimes painfully slow but always a necessity. The white was all whole bunch pressed on a long champagne-like cycle so a slow methodical sort on a vibrating table was required before the grapes were giraffed into the press. The red was destemmed following a rigorous sort and then whole berry sorting on a second table took place to take out tiny stems and any miss coloured or rotten berries. This stringent approach as well as the excellent viticulture implemented throughout the year is the reason why nothing apart from SO2 is ever needed to be added to the wines.

Burgundy is a region of subtlety and I entered the hallowed appellation thinking I knew a lot about the land and its producers. Every piece of land is different and has been assigned value or quality designation. Essentially each vineyard is assigned a quality level. At the bottom of the slopes of the Cote d’Or we find the Bourgogne level vineyards. The only wine that can be produced from these vineyards is Bourgogne; it cannot be given a village designation. The next up the chain is the village level vineyards. These parcels of land produce wine that may be assigned the village name from which they come. At this level the vineyard name may also be mentioned but is usually not as the village wines usually come from several vineyards around each village. Just up on the main slope and right at the top of the slope of the best aspects the Premier Cru vineyards can be found. These are considered to produce superior wines in good vintages and are often subject to growing and production parameters that differ from the village level vineyards, (such as natural sugar level requirements etc). Then we come to the fabled Grand Cru vineyards, they are usually found in the middle of the slope (with the exception of the enormous Clos de Vougeot). These vineyards are supposed to consistently produce the best wines in each geographical area. These wines mainly come from single special vineyards where some premier cru wines are appellation wines with many different vineyard sources…..

Ok so that can be confusing but was nothing new to me. What surprised me was the need to really know the producer. I entered the arena believing any wine with at least a premier cru designation would be good to very good…. boy was I wrong. My first visit to the local E.Leclirc (a cross between Wholefoods and Wal-Mart) taught me a short, sharp lesion. I bought a mixture of bottles, all Premier Cru wines from various villages and all from producers I had not heard of. Back at the jeet having opened the wines I soon realised why a) Premier Cru wines were selling in a supermarket for such low prices, and b) why I had not heard of the producers…..The wines were terrible. Now not wanting to sound like a snob they were not undrinkable but they were like uninspired homogonous goon.  All green and stemmy, with little primary fruit and no secondary complexity. Wow I really didn’t think that Burgundy would produce much bad wine let alone this bad.

As Vintage progressed and more and more wine was introduced amongst the group we became a little wiser in our choice of producers and were definitely rewarded. Wines from Patrice Rion, Jean Marc Pillot and of course Domaine Dublere were frequent and sublime. Each wine was different in its own right and really showing the character of the land and the vintage as well as the artisan who grew the grapes and created the wine. That really is what Burgundy became about for me. More about who grew the wine and who made it than the actual land, yet as a contrast and maybe slight hypocrisy the parcel of land really mattered as well, but only to the producers who cared and applied knowledge and skill to their work. Just because a producer has some Premier Cru and Grand Cru vineyards does not mean their wine will be any good, and a good producer can have fabulous wine from Village level vineyards. As a general rule the producer who has poor village level wines is also likely to have below average Premier and Grand Cru wines while the vintner who has great village wines will have spectacular Premier and Grand Cru wines if they have access to the vines.

So happy hunting Burgundy lovers, I am richer for the experience and now more than ever I realise that you have to drink a lot of Burgundy to find a great one but when you do it is a sublime experience.

There is something about NZ Pinot Gris that I have, until now, not appreciated. The clean, conventional yet boring wines bottled and consumed within a year of vintage have been the extent of my New Zealand Pinot Gris tasting of late. I just opened a Neudorf Moutere 05’ Pinot Gris. I am bias and believe that the sun shines on Neudorf in a beautiful vein, but supposed prejudice aside; I was still enthralled with this wine.

I served it because I had a guest who was arriving late to a dinner party and  wanted white…. we had all moved on to red 5 wines ago but she had the decency to ring ahead to announce her arrival with a “white please” when asked her poison of preference.

She arrived, and in true beer guzzler fashion proceeded to engulf a glass of the afore mentioned elixir. Yet I could see it in her non-wine addicted eye, that turning point, where one says to oneself… ah I understand.

I was drinking a biodynamic single vineyard Tempranillo/Syrah from Hood River in Oregon which was spectacular in its own right. But the nose on the Pinot Gris pulled me right back into white tasting mode.

Waxy, not in the beeswax kind but in the generic candle wax aroma. Lashings of honey, ripe apples, pear and fresh stone fruit also flesh out the nose. The delicious waxy notes were accompanied by mineral and moss highlights which carried though both nose and palate and reminded me of older Hunter Valley Semillon.

Now thinking this to myself I recalled being blind tasted a few months ago on another Pinot Gris from NZ, again an 05 but from Isabel Estates… wow again the same waxy, honey, delisiousness, that is hard to describe, but, I know I like it!

 I blind tasted it as Hunter Semillon…go figure.

I then started ruminating on how these were the only NZ pinot Gris I had tasted that owned even 2 years of age.  Excuse my ignorance but do all NZ Gris go waxy and fascinating after 3 years in bottle? Or have I struck the exceptions to the rule? Both blew my socks off especially for the price I need to pay for the pleasure of their company… wow factor for little financial outlay. If most well grown NZ Pinot Gris ages and develops character like these beauties then I’M BUYING MORE!!!