A few years ago I was introduced to the world of Burgundy. It wasn’t easy at first, but the light eventually went on. And I realised I was instantly financially ruined. I wonder sometimes if the whole thing that is burgundy is a sinister marketing device - the whole region is so complex yo just have to buy everything you see to completely understand.
Now I’m trying to taste more widely again, including a lot of new world pinot noir. And so opens the Bindi Pinot. But wait a minute, there’s a whole lot of burgundian stuff going on here…
The diam comes out of the dreadnought bottle with a punt so deep you could lose your car keys in it. The first whiff says class. Delicate at first, and more yielding with time. raspberries, redcurrants and blackcurrants with some white peppery spice. The first sip is a lovely balanced textural experience. This wine settles on your tongue and cheeks just so, and delivers the same fruit basket that the nose announced. Red fruits at first, then some forest berry elements. A deft touch of white pepper. A touch of sap, and yet another dab of forest floor funk. There is some coiled power here still, at 6 years old there is a clear sense this wine has more to give with further ageing.
But there’s still plenty to enjoy now, and I did enjoy this wine plenty.
Oh, there was that burgundy reference. This seems very Chambolle Musigny like to me. And that’s all good
Cheers
Andrew
My first introduction to Drew Noon MW (Master of Wine - currently there are only 280 across the world) and his wines was shortly after I first arrived in New Zealand over five years ago. Working at a wine store while studying, I received an email from an importer offering some cult Australian wines, including the Noon reds. Having never heard of Noon, I quickly did some research and also consulted with my good friend Craig who always had the number on hard-to-get, premium SA booze from small producers.
Some big Parker scores seemed to have put Noon on the map and with a tiny production (at least by Australian standards) there was now a considerable waiting list for the mailing list. Failing that, you could purchase the wines at super-inflated prices on the secondard market, or at very reasonable prices in the New Zealand market. And so I blindly secured an allocation of the 2003 reds; the Reserve Shiraz, the Reserve Cab and the Eclipse (a Grenache/Shiraz blend off bush vines grown at Drew’s own property, as opposed to the fruit for the Res Shz and Cab which is sourced from a Langhorne Creek vineyard).
I promptly brought the Eclipse along to a wine dinner where it swamped everything before it, and everything after it. Massive wines, made that way before it was fashionable.
Back in the day, Drew didn’t have an email or website. I called him the next day and left a message - I was super keen to head over and work for him over vintage, but at the very least spend a few minutes talking to the man over the phone. What happened next was truly astonishing.
He called back. Naturally, he couldn’t have me over for vintage - he just didn’t make enough wine to warrant having someone else around - but he called back. A call back from a winemaker is an exceedingly and increasingly rare event, but here was Drew, calling back some young student MW-wanna-be in another country, to relay that message but also talk about the MW, his wines, his philosophy and even me for the next half hour. I haven’t yet had the opportunity to meet Drew face-to-face, but I already know that he is one of the nicest, most genuine blokes in the entire wine industry.
It has to be said, however, that my wine tastes have changed over the past five years. I now drink more pinot, enjoy cool climate syrah, generally steer clear of sauv and pinot gris, and continue to explore new varieties or styles in Europe and North America. But winter in Central Otago is here, they’ve predicted snow, the fire is roaring and after a hearty home-cooked meal, there’s only one option for an after-dinner red; something ballzy, something Australian.
2003 Noon Reserve Cab Sauv A narrow perimeter of burgundy red colour is the only indication that this wine has age, the remainder an impenetrable blood red sea. The nose, fruit-forward and spicy, boasts bold aromas of aniseed, cassis, eucalypt, blackberry and a hint of smoky, chocolate toast. It’s a sensory barrage of heady, volatile fruit bursting from the glass; it’s a Noon.
Initially a little awkward and disjointed, the mouthfeel found its footing on the second night (something I’ve noticed with Drew’s wines in the past) and all the compounds just came together. Spicy, liqueur berry fruit playful on the palate, the prickly touch of woolen velvet adding grip to the texture and a gentle undercurrent of fresh acidity augmenting the structure.
Tannins are still a little grainy, reinforcing varietal distinction and a sweet fruit finish. At a paltry 14.9% alcohol, this is the only Noon wine I can recollect having that is under 15% a/v. Not as rich or unctuous as I was expecting, but this was nice for a change.
Cheers,
Max
“Recommend a Pinot I haven’t tried to fill out a sixpack”
“have you tried the Escaprment’s? The Te Rehua is the most elegant of them”
“OK, throw it in.”
And so the conversation went at my regular retail outlet herein Brisbane. What a fascinating wine it turned out to be.
Pop the diam out of the bottle and it opens silky and perfumed and lifted and lovey. I’m really looking forward to this. Its perfumed, spicy, shows some stalk, and it shows lovely balance in the elegant, red fruit end of the pinot spectrum.
Pour a second glass. Hey, this has gone all bitter and astringent! Truly horrible! So the bottle goes into quarantine.
A few hours later this is different again, and much more pleasant. Its full and dense and powerful the way good pinot can be. It never becomes heavy, it is a basket of lightly spiced forest berries, lightly touched by wood. I like the apparent philosophy underneath this. Structurally this is perhaps a touch Chambolle like with its delicate but coiled fruit power, and its spread across the palate. Tannins are moderate at best. I like this very much to drink in the next year or two.