I don’t drink enough Sangiovese. Anything with a tomato base to it seems to beckon the Italian varieties. Well duh, I guess, Italians have known this for centuries.
Anyhoo, enough history and back into the moment, there are lamb shanks in the pot simmering away, and only the smallest excuse will take me to the top shelf of the cellar (figuratively speaking). I don’t know for sure if Ceparello is a DOCG wine or in the IGT class, but lets call it a supertuscan for now.
The colour is surprisingly advanced, even for a 10 year old. Leather, soy sauce, plum, cherry tell you this is well and truly secondary by now. It needs all of the 3 hours of decanting it got. At the end of the blt of silk that it its palate is a wall of hallmark Sangiovese tannin. Plentiful and hallmark with their sawn pine nuance, the Ceparello shows them in an unusually fine rendering. Cedary cherries and tar meander for an age until dusty cedar takes over on the back palate. Truly the food wine it should be, a joy to drink.
Cheers
Andrew
Its been a while between drinks. Well not really, but a while between focusing on wines enough to write a decent, sensible note. Here are three kabinett styles I’ve tried recently.
2009 Donnhoff Oberhauser Liestenberg Kabinett: The Liestenberg vineyard is near the village of Oberhausen where the Donnhoff cellar door sits. Its not a place you’ll find by accident – the Nahe valley is a sleepy little place, and you have to go through a fair bit of it to get to Oberhausen. Two wines usually come from this site, the Tonschiefer dry Riesling and this one, which I look forward to every year. It’s a label that is usually full of joy. The 2009 is straw in colour, and somehow doesn’t glow like these wines can in their youth. This takes some time to open and blow of the bit of sulphur it has to reveal its and slate over kaffir lime leaf on the nose. Palate has a nutty element to it before the fruit arrives, and on the whole this is a lot more reserved than recent version of this wine. This is somehow muted by an udergrowthy flavour which checks the usual lifted, almost spritzy limey expression. A new thing in the 2009 is weight – there’s a blackberry undertone here that I’ve not seen in this wine in earlier vintages, although I’ve only tried these back to 2005. The cork was soaked here, perhaps this has been touched with heat. Not the greatest showing here, but I suspect time will tell. 2008 Rienhold Haart Piesporter Goldtropfchen Kabinett: As Mosel goes, Rienhold Haart makes assertive muscular wines that demand some time in bottle to show their best. WE got to look at wines back to 2002 at the cellar door last year, as well as a lovely 1991 Auslese. They don’t change style as the develop, but they do pick up more complexity and they resolve a bit. 2008 is billed as a “classical” year, so perhaps we’l see a bit of restraint here? Well, sort of. This has a lightness of touch and is indeed a relatively delicate expression of the Haart style. The hallmark sugar cane juice accompanies minerally slatey lemons, passionfruit, and sulphur announces its presence here too. A lovely refreshing drop, albeit with its puppy fat showing beside the Donnhoff. Built to take age, but like every young Haart I’ve tasted they do drink nicely early.
2010 Auburn Wines Alexandra: It’s not proper to write up wines in which I have a personal interest, but suffice to say this is in a very happy place right now.
There was also a sneaky 93 Zilliken Saarburger Rausch Auslese – written up on Vinoculation before I think.
cheers
I had the privilege of visiting Chile Peru and Bolivia a few years ago, for what turned out to be the adventure of a lifetime. Part of the extensive research in the buildup was learning something about South American wines beyond Concha Y Toro, but oddly we drank very little of it while we were there.
Two friends visited ore recently, and brought back two bottles as gifts. I had no idea where these wines sat in terms of quality or price, but with a garlic infused roast beef and the first shards of winter in the air, it seemed like a good time to take a look at them and research the wines a little.
2007 Santa Rite Medalla Real Cabernet Sauvignon, Maipo Valley Chile
Inky and opaque, purple red right at the rim. Nose of overripe orange and dusty cedar cupboard and very ripe blackberry pastilles. There’s another little element here and its an unfortunate one – paint stripper. Palate is lush in its attack, slightly viscous in its movement through the mouth, and again shows the super ripe blackberry pastille palate, tinged with varietal cabernet capsicum and tomato leaf. There’s a touch of asparagus and canned pea here too – a little bit of DMS? It takes a few mouthfuls to really build tannin presence. And there is that same undercurrent of abrasive paint stripper quality on a finish that shows a bit more warmth than its 14% would imply. Built to drink early, this is a big bold commercially oriented style.
I have no idea where this was sourced or what it cost but Winesearcher turns up lots of hits about $A13 in the US. At that price its punching above its weight for density of fruit if nothing else.
2007 Felipe Rutini Malbec, Mendoza, Argentina
Also weighs in at about $A15 on winesearcher. To keep the story short – these were very generous gifts from someone who didn’t need to do that – however I’m most grateful to reacquaint myself with South American wines once again.
Straight malbec is something of a mystery to me, apart from the murmurings about a buttery flavoured red grape that is only good for blending. Until Argentina came along, growing the stuff in impossibly high Mendoza.
This is also very dark in hue, similar to its Chilean cousin. The nose is much more subtle – plum skins, cola, menthol. The front palate is a textural thing at first, although after a bit I think this would be a cracker options wine. The tannins are all front palate and cheeks, there’s a whiff of green herb and canned peas – which so far makes it a cabernet. But the fruit settles across the mid palate – no Cabernet hole here. Ripe, cherry cola like (think Dr Pepper) with that same fishermans friend lift in the mouth, with ample grainy tannins to finish, this is made for a steak.
Once again, great effort for the money – although I suspect Australia’s tax system and freight would see this at $35ish by the time it hit the shelves.
Pork on the BBQ - time for some riesling goodness. Two forms of goodness in fact - the Auburn Riesling Jelly, and this spätlese from the Nahe.
Nose is slatey sulphur, peach apricot and lemon.
Initial attack is lemon tinged slate. There’s a joyful energy to this that might be a Nahe character, which seems to be present in Helmut Donnhoff’s wines as well.
A real twang to the palate, with a filigree of lemony acidity woven through the weighty, apricot touched mandarins and cumquats with some dried sage and thyme spice and some early hints of petrol. In time the acid threads should stand out more, but for now the mid palate and finish sees the fruit is firmly to the fore, with a honey like texture that is only just cut by its acid. A weighty, flavour packed wine which could have done with a gram or two more acid for drinking now. There’s also a powdery, icing sugar character on the finish which is sometimes a sign of riesling about to dry out - so I tihnk I’ll take the money and run. Drink soon.
Pasta Putanesca. Big robust, savoury flavours. Sangiovese might not quite cut it, so something weightier is required to create the match – a syrah sangiovese blend might do the trick.
Castagna is a small biodynamic vineyard at Beechworth in Central Victoria, who grow Syrah, Viognier and some Sangiovese. “Un Segreto” is a blend of the two red varieties that they have made in a few vintages, and seems to get a little lift and savoury twist from the Sangio to support a core of Syrah.
Still a very dark purple black in the glass. Smells of treebark and savoury brown spices, over graphite, bitumen and black cherries. Castagna’s Syrah wines have a signature cherry and black pepper profile, and with the sangovese added this seems to be reinforced rather than blended out. There’s an initial belt of VA here too, which lifts up purple jubes, licorice and black marker pen. The palate is perhaps more elegant than the nose suggests. Tannins are fine and plentiful and have a sangiovese signature that seems to be sawn pine to me, closing out what turns out to be a nicely balanced medium weight wine where the syrah fruit speaks more than the sangiovese savouriness right now. This is still quite primary, and will probably evolve for a few more years yet.
Did it work with the putanesca? Maybe. The food was tasty, we were hungry, it lasted 2 minutes. 2/3 of the bottle was still left to contemplate with some cheese,
Here’s two tasting notes. The first is what I think I would have written if I got this wine blind:
What’s this, an obscure rhone variety? Packs the heat and red fruits and redskin lolly that can come with Grenache, along with some chocolately coffee oak. Mid weight only, and has lovely fine tannins to finish. Got me stumped, Garnatxa from Spain? Carignan? Cinsault? Couniose? Tasty warm climate wine. Whatever it is.
The second is what I wrote when I tasted the wine, knowing what it was.
Dark colour. Nice redcurrant fruits…but loads of alcohol and probably too much oak. This is very much in the dry red end of pinot noir. Good length, but turns in the glass after an hour of slow sipping and becomes unpleasant.
No point in trying to draw too many conclusions here. Sometimes this happens with Pinot Noir. Someone makes something that doesn’t fit into the Burgundy Box (or any other Pinot Noir stereotype for that matter). Not the first time this has happened. With with an open mind, these can still be good enough wines.
Shame this was an $80 bottle though -the 2006 Daniel Schuster Omihi Hills Pinot Noir.
Its ANZAC day. That special day where Aussies and Kiwis share the honouring of those who fought for our freedom. My dad was part of that, he flew in New Guinea in World War 2. There’s a small tradition in our house thats part of the honouring of my dads small part on the legacy that is ANZAC, and its to drink something traditionally Australian to respect the fallen today. This year, its a bottle of that quintessential Australian blend - Cabernet Shiraz.
The 2000 Majella Mallea is still dark in colour, despite its 11 years of age. Some early signs of bricking, but they’re only early.
It’s the Cabernet component that rises up to greet you first – blackberry, minted peas, menthol blown on the breath of a rich fruited lift. Some black olive is close behind, hinting of the shiraz in the blend.
The palate is an evolving thing. It starts out being surprisingly fresh and vibrant if a little angular and disjointed. Fruit, a gap, and then tannins. Perhaps a manifestation of the cabernet hole. The shiraz rises up to meet this, and the black olive component emerges again, completing the wine.
There’s a lovely inky tarry element to this which reflects the flagship status this wine has. The tannins are all in the right place, the acids are on the high side, and no doubt that has helped the wine lok youthful at this stage of its life. And its life is far from over.
A good interpretation of the Aussie classic, drunk on that classic day. Anzac Day, 2011.
They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old: Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun, and in the morning We will remember them. Lest we forget.
Canadian Chardonnay. About 99% of the wine drinking world are looking at those two words and thinking WTF? I would be too if I wasn’t given a heads up from Max that Dave has done some of his best work here. Once again, I’m going to step around any accusations of reviewing a wine that I’m not truly and auditably at arms length from. Mainly cos I don’t care. This is tasty juice, and the world deserves to know.
Its more golden to look at than many. Meh, Cant drink colours. Not the only wine that hasn’t been water pale in its youth.
Nose in glass time. Ooh, creamy roasted nuts, with a waft of VA and also some EA to lift this out of the glass. But this is just the entrée, as this tastes seriously good. Its perfectly weighted, and shows off grapefruit, ripe honeydew, and some gentle apricot tones. It carries across the palate beautifully, and closes out with nuances of green pineapple in the tingly lemon lime acids. The fruit is beautifully dense and carries on to impressive length.
This is mouthcoating and complete, and seriously tasty. New world in its style with perhaps a nod to Chablis. Worth seeking out if you can get it,
I’ve never been very sure of Canadian Icewine. Inniskillin makes its way to Australia, and I’ve had the 04 Henry of Pelham Vidal and 05 Jackson Triggs Riesling once each. They are confronting beasts, sometimes with to much of everything.
Tantalus is home to Dave Patterson, one of my partners in Auburn. He very kindly brought a mixed dozen of Tantalus product into Australia for me in February, as they are just unavailable here.
I thought twice about reviewing this in public. Not for doubts about quality, but occasionally people get accused of pumping up particular wines. but seeing as the total comments in the whole Vinoculation site number less than 10 I’m going to step out here and bear all your daggers.
First things first - you have to get past an enormous hit of nailpolish remover to get to this wine. This is one of the biggest ethyl acetate levels I’ve ever seen. Confronting stuff - the bottle was then quarantined to see if the EA blows off.
After 24 hours it has substantially gone. Underneath, this one has some beautiful sweet candied tropical fruits, and its searingly intense. Paw paw, mandarin, peach, passionfruit. This is so intense it is almost hot in the mouth, and the finish goes on for an age. This will take on the sweetest of desserts, and in fact needs something seriously sweet to match it.
Picked at 49 Brix (incredibly ripe!) at -12 degrees in December 2009, this leads to 9.8% alcohol, over 300g/l, and I’m told this has 15g/l of titratable acidity. This is bursting with everything, and is just in balance.
I suspect this well age for a long long time. So don’t be in a hurry.
If you’re looking for fruity, sundrenched ripe chardonnay - then warning - some viewers may find the the following note disturbing.
Garibaldi Farm is near Ballarat in central western Victoria. Cold. All the time. Brrrr. This is a really small make of about 100 dozen, and the back label says this was one of the warmest growing seasons on record. If thats the case I wonder how the hell they get this ripe in a cold year!
This is all about structure and savoury tastes and smells. In amongst all this restraint there is the fruit. Ever peeled the layers of an onion? That’s where you’re at. Lift away the creamy cashew to get to the almond meal, then find some nutty oak, and underneath that is the core. It’s not loud and brash, but it speaks clear and pure with its coiled up citrussy power. Its taken 5 years to get to this point, who knows how long it will take to fully unfurl. Lovely - and in the scheme of things $35 is very good value.
If Chablis is your style of chardonnay, seek this out.
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