Shiraz and brown snakes 19 October 2007

A further report from Angela Lloyd, who's in Australia
 

I was fully prepared for an overdose of shiraz on my visit to Aus but less prepared for some pleasant – even delightful – surprises among the many I've been offered. If there's one marketing error Aus has made it's been the emphasis on `sunshine in a bottle' wines rolled out in large volumes; the message that they have a multitude of smaller producers making refined, classic styles has yet to penetrate the wider world.

I guess most people would associate the cool climate Adelaide Hills with chardonnay and pinot noir; quite right, they do but they also make sauvignon blanc – very unsavage by SA standards, and pretty much take-'em-or-leave-'em quality, though pleasant drinking. Winding around the very green and pretty Hills, we tasted line ups of this varietal trio at various wineries during the day. At the final winery of call – Longview, owned by Doug McGillvray of Two Dogs fame – it was the turn of shiraz. Not only was the knowledge that the area produces shiraz new to many, jaded palates were soon revitalised by these elegant, fresh wines, even those with 14% alc. A splash of viognier in some does the proper job of lifting the shiraz aromatics rather than overpowering them. And French rather than American oak adds the final, classic touch to these cool climate beauties. If the Aussies can do it, so can we!

Even in the Barossa there's a move trying to get away from big is better among a noticeable number of winemakers. The use of French rather than American oak certainly represents one of the big changes and happily lends a more savoury edge to the wines and doesn't smother the fruit purity. Most too have a lovely supple texture, thanks to less extraction. No problem drinking more than a glass of these.

But of course, the big and the bold haven't totally disappeared, and as if to show just how big and bold they can be, our last tasting in the Barossa was held outside at the site where the first settlers set up camp. Even on a moderately warm day, the high alcohols showed off their paces, which didn't appear to worry the assembled winemakers or the enthusiastic swarm of flies which seemed to actively enjoy their kamikaze efforts to get pickled in the rich reds. We all might have dozed off, had it not been for the very venomous brown snake which took exception to our presence (or maybe it wanted to join the party) and, much to the locals' amazement, decided to attack giving us all a good excuse to beat a hasty retreat back to Adelaide.

Very flat, Australia (in part, anyway) 17 October 2007

First notes from Angela Lloyd, visiting Tasting Australia in Adelaide

I'm preparing to feel giddy today. We're off to visit the Adelaide Hills and the city's highest peak, the aptly named Mount Lofty, all 710 metres of it. This might be puny in comparison with the real mountains around Cape Town, but it certainly a landmark in this flat part of the world (I wouldn't be surprised to find members of the Flat Earth Society around here). (The pic of vines in the Adelaide Hills region is from the Winebytes website.)

Take Coonawarra, around 4-5 hours south-west of Adelaide, where our small wine media group spent the weekend; it's around 69 metres above sea level, the highest point at 70 metres – so they talk of ‘undulations’ rather than mountains or hills. To get the best view of the vineyards, one climbs ‘the tower' to the top of the outside wine storage tanks. Even in the Clare Valley, where the undulations are sufficient to lend credibility to the `valley' term, the highest point is still only around 400 metres, 300 of those being the area's average height above sea level.

Both areas are severely challenged by lack of water, while Coonawarra has the double whammy of that plus frost. The vineyards were decimated last year by not one or two but waves of them, including black frosts that even the wind machines and helicopters could do nothing to disperse. That crop was tiny; they are keeping their fingers crossed for 2008. But it's unlikely to be of a size that will give them the quality the larger crops are known for.

Winewise, Coonawarra is known for king cab; we certainly saw plenty of those wines but far fewer with the minty notes associated with the area. The riper wines (and, yes, higher alcohols) are now achieving a more classic cassis, blackberry profile. But Coonawarra isn't just about cab – there are also some brilliant shirazes, actually the variety for which the area was first recognised.

Neither is Coonawarra all about red – though some would say it should be – chardonnay, riesling and sauvignon blanc also pop up here and there, all good partners to the local seafood: crayfish is the speciality, the coast being a less than 50 kilometres away.

But if we were surprised to find riesling in Coonawarra, cab is an equally forgotten variety in Clare, the king being usurped by the German emperor (?). But a tasting of riesling, shiraz and cab by the king of riesling, Jeffrey Grosset, showed that cab deserves its place – it would be a travesty of justice not to have a decent red to go with the rich, naturally dry-herb flavoured lamb which grazes in the northern parts of the valley, the proof of which we tasted at yet another table-laden lunch at Pauletts. (Tasting Australia they call this event … Eating and Drinking Australia, more likely!).

There's shiraz too, naturally; Stephanie Toole's Mount Horrocks ably demonstrates that Aussie shirazes are not all big bang. But for a riesling lover (me, that is) a visit to Clare is dizzy heaven. With typical generosity, the winemakers brought along older vintages for lunch – forget terpenes, think toast and lime complexity with mouthwatering acidity – and this is in wines of 7 or 8 years old under screwcap. While Jeffrey Grosset's 2007 Polish Hill just hits the palate running – which I must do now off to the heights of Mt Lofty and the lovely Adelaide Hills.

(To be continued…)