A very, very rare wine; only 136 bottles made, or thereabouts.
Pity it’s arse.
Well, maybe that’s a tad harsh, but I’m my own worst critic. I think this might be a cross between sherry, single malt and the recycled water coming out of Bromley in Christchurch (a sewerage plant, for those not in the know). It’s frustrating, to say the least, because here is a wine that Dave and I made, that we invested a fair bit of time into. Sure, it had its dose of neglect and abuse - partly thanks to our jetsetting ways - but you still remain hopeful.
We harvested the fruit at 26Brix (pretty high for Chard - Dave, correct me if I’m wrong) and proceeded to basket press half of the fruit on site at the vineyard, then the other half at the Lincoln University winery nearby. We only had enough to fill half a barrel, so to offset the ullage and high sugar, we (reluctantly) combined our juice with some less ripe pressed juice from the Lincoln vineyard.
The wine spent a year in an old oak barrel and half was then bottled. The other half was ours, but we were both overseas and wanted to bottle it ourselves, so it was transferred to a couple of 50L kegs and enjoyed some extended ‘keg contact’ for the ensuing 6-9months. Unfortunately, we had no control over the transfer or topping procedures therein, so we suspect the wine suffered from some excess air contact.
Our suspicions were confirmed. The wine - it must be said - didn’t taste that bad when we were carrying out bottling. But, in bottle, it’s a different story. It’s now been the better part of six months since bottling, so there’s been well and truly enough time to rule out any bottle shock and the wine should be showing at its best. That’s a worry.
There’s only five cases to work through, but five cases is substantial when the wine is average. We were so hopeful at the early stages - we jokingly praised the wine’s acid profile, commenting that like a great Chablis, this had the hallmark profile to age for decades and decades. I still believe that - it certainly has some crunchy, citric acidity about it - but it’s smelling now like it will in half a century, which can’t be a good sign. Maybe we’ll see a new phenomenon of “reverse ageing” occuring. The bottles have yet to be labelled, but I think I’ll leave them as naked mysteries. I’ll serve the wine up as an extraordinarily rare sherry from New Zealand, best enjoyed as an aperitif with copious amounts of spicy food to follow (Szechuan or Habanero-infusion, I would recommend) or else as a mild alcohol derivative to Scotch when blind drunk.
2006 Gazardiel Bethels Road Chardonnay Aromas of green apple core, lemon, grapefruit, peat, papaya pulp, cherry blossom. The aldehydic component is especially strong; it tends to strengthen as soon as one notices it, as these aromas often can. Well balanced in the mouth, the acid is definitely there as a bracing undercurrent but the slight textural nature of the wine seems to offset it nicely. No added sugar (we steadfastly resisted the temptation) and the wine is better for it (don’t laugh). The finish is quite juicy - combinations of slightly tart stonefruit with very ripe citrus fruit - and a slight phenolic edge, which I don’t mind. A very nutty aftertaste. Not all bad, if you can get past the aldehydic nose.
Dave’s Comments
I agree with all of the above however I have more to add. I have found huge bottle variation in the 10 or so that I have opened in the last 6 months. I have had a soon-to-be Master Sommelier blind taste it as excellent quality, young, nutty Chablis. He was astonished to find that a) it was not Chablis and b) we had made it. On the flip side I have opened a bottle, had half a glass and tipped the rest into a rissotto which was acidic but delicious. So I await every opportunity to open a bottle with bated breath… always thinking is this going to be a good one? And will I be able to get through a bottle before my teeth disolve in the acid? Ha Ha.