Strawberry wine
A true tale about pioneering Australian wine making and the enhancement of varietal character in wine.
Seems these two Australians, one a pioneering winemaker who wanted to make pinot noir and
one in the grocery trade, went to France many years ago to see how red Burgundy was made.
The Burgundians were understandably tight-lipped about their methods but at one winery our
Aussie spies noticed that some barrels, apparently not needed for the previous vintage,
had been used to ferment a batch of strawberry wine.
They asked the vigneron if he would use the barrels for wine again. Certainement! Next vintage he replied, multilingually. “They’ll need a thorough cleaning surely?” asked the Aussies. “Non!” and “Le Sacre Heeler Bleu!” he exclaimed (hence the exclamation marks) with a nod and a wink. “Ze pinot noir, she likes a hint of strawberry.”
The lads returned to Australia and some while later the winemaker phoned the grocer and said, “I see that strawberries are in season.” “Yup.” was the reply. “Could you go to the market and buy me a couple of truckloads? Just send them up to the winery. I’ve got a hankering to make a few bottles of wine.” A new style of Australian pinot was thus conceived and won a few trophies. The grocer later became a successful vigneron.
Bali
Bali is one of my favourite holiday destinations. I’ve visited there a dozen or more times since 1975 and have made friends with some of the locals. The Balinese are a gentle and hospitable people and I imagine that terrorism is as alien to them as it is to the tourists affected by the recent tragedy. I can understand however, that Australians who have suffered as a result of this attack will now have second thoughts about ever seeing Bali as anything other than a disaster area.
But, one of life’s great pleasures is to sit on a Bali beach under a palm tree at sunset with
a glass of Bintang beer or a chilled riesling in the hand, the fragrance of frangipani and
clove cigarettes in the faint breeze, listening to the slight dissonance of a gamelan
orchestra murmuring in the distance and to the muted roar of crashing surf. I’d hate to
think that I would never experience that again - when time permits and despite the
the Sari Club bombing
I intend to return.
Conspicuous competence
You will have heard the term ‘Conspicuous Consumption’ often enough. You know the definition: rich dudes flaunting expensive toys in the peasants’ faces – some of whom no doubt aspire to own a toy or two themselves. But it wasn’t until recently that I came across the delicious variation: ‘Conspicuous Competence’. It refers, apparently, to a trend among consumers who consciously or otherwise wish to conversationally display (split infinitive – but who cares?) an informed knowledge about the behind the scenes workings of their lifestyle interests.
For example, a conspicuously competent wine consumer will be able not only to discuss why they enjoy a bottle of shiraz but also to talk about the type of oak used and the relevant winemaking techniques employed. A CC diner will know how the chef prepared the ceviche and have an inkling of which famous restaurant kitchens he or she has previously graced with their genius. A CC cinema-goer will be able to waffle on about auteurs, gaffers and best boys. And so on.
Look out for the conspicuously competent, there will be at least one in your neighbourhood. CCs, unfortunately, are a bit like conspicuous consumers – they are often hard to distinguish from CBs; i.e. conspicuous bores.
How the other half drink
Boutique pinot and poodle wine.
Overheard in a ‘boutique’ winery in the Yarra Valley. Customer, "Nice pinot. How much a bottle?” Vigneron, “Thirty nine dollars.” Customer, “Thirty nine bucks! You’ve got to be joking. How much a bottle did it cost you to produce?” Vigneron, dryly, “Oh, around seven hundred.”
Overheard at a regional wine tasting. “This gewurtztraminer is very floral. Reminds me of an Alsacian.” Fellow taster replied, “Too perfumed and cloying for me. More like a poodle, I reckon.”
How the mighty drink
George W. Bush
was a heavy drinker before he became a born again Christian; he is now a teetotaller.
Saddam Hussein reportedly enjoys
the odd glass of Mateus Rosé (see review under Tastings below). Australian Prime
Minister John Howard outdoes them both - spending taxpayers’ dollars to hire a wine consultant for his dining indulgence.
A bottle or two for the cellar
The late Roald Dahl liked the look of the 1982 Bordeaux vintage so much he went out and bought 1000 cases en primeur for future reference. Included in his little shopping spree were Mouton Rothschild, Leoville Les Cases, Canon, and Branaire Ducru. In his and Felicity Dahl’s book Memories with Food at Gipsy House (written in 1990), he mentions that ‘Most of these great 1982s are still maturing in the cellar…’ As he died that same year we can only assume that he didn’t get to enjoy much of his modest purchase. I wonder what became of his cellar. Published by Viking, London, 1991.
Feedback: Animal magnetism
‘Hi Martin, I am forced to disagree with your contention that magnetism has no influence on wine. I do not wish to polarise opinion but, from personal experience I can tell you that my internal compass always homes in on the nearest available bottle, which suggests that wine does in fact emit a perceptible magnetic attraction. Yours, Bruno of Balmoral.’
Bruno, Australian red wine has been long-reputed to possess significant ferruginous properties – these may explain your polarity predilections.
Tastings
Redgate Sauvignon Blanc Reserve 2001. About $19.
Cellar to 2004. Bronze
Margaret River, Western Australia. Very pale yellow. Restrained nose with faint oak and citrus peel overtones. A riper style of sauvignon, soft, light and delicate in the mouth, medium dry. Finishes with light acidity and lemon aspects.
Petaluma Hanlin Hill Riesling2002. About $23.
Cellar to 2015. Gold
Clare Valley, South Australia. Stelvin-capped. Near water pale, hint of green. Inviting aromatic, floral, citrussy nose. Very dry clean style packs a wallop in the mouth with flavours of lime dominating. The finish is firm and zesty and goes on and on. This classic style of riesling can last 15 to 20 years in the cellar. Brian Croser reckons this wine could be the equal of his famous 1980 Petaluma. Excellent value.
Mateus Rosé
Drink now, non-vintage commercial blend.
Portugal. Pale pink. Sweetish nose. Slightly spritzig on the tongue. Fresh light and fruity in the mouth and not as sweet as I remember it. Finishes clean with just enough acid. Quaffable summer lunch wine served well-chilled.
Grace Devlin Cabernet Sauvignon 2001 About $20. Cellar to 2007. Silver
Redesdale, Victoria. Intense saturated purple. Fragrant, grapey and blackcurrant nose. Concentrated, grippy palate, really too young to drink yet. The blackcurrant flavours come through strongly in the mouth with a sub-structure of unobtrusive oak. A likeable and persistent finish. A few tasters thought the masked bottle was from Coonawarra. Top value. Email mtloft@netcon.net.au to purchase.
Brown Brothers Pinot Grigio 2002.
Cellar to 2004. About $15. Bronze
Victoria. Almost water pale. Unwooded, fragrant, floral, citrus nose. Big ripe juicy flavours finishing with medium lemony acidity. Nice aperitif or entrée style.
Pikes Clare Valley Riesling 2002.
Cellar to 2008. Retail $21. Bronze
Very pale yellow. Intense perfume of lemon and lime. Mouth-filling varietal fruit beautifully balanced with tangy acids. Medium dryish finish with good length. Suitable for sipping at summer luncheon.
Chateau Musar White 1992. Drink now.
$23. Silver
Lebanon. Bright mid-gold. Blended from semillon and obaideh (similar to chardonnay). Clean floral nose showing honey and aged aspects. Light and elegant palate with more honey and secondary – slightly oxidised - wine characters, no evident oak. Firm, minerally finish with sufficient acid and longish aftertaste. Masked you would have to pick this as an aged Chablis. Discovered at the local Dan Murphys a couple of weeks ago.
Penfolds St Henri Shiraz 1998. Cellar to 2015.
About $45. Gold and Trophy
Barossa Valley, Padthaway, McLaren Vale, Eden Valley, Coonawarra. Very dark red, crimson edge. Restrained yet complex nose of plums, understated oak and dried leaves. On first glance this is a subtle wine with none of the ‘jamminess’ often associated with big Australian reds. But although not a huge wine it is not wanting in any department. It has spice, blackberries, warmth, texture, generosity of flavour and above all, harmony. A classic red with excellent cellar (and therefore auction) potential.
Martin Field
[A Letter from Australia]
[The Alsop Wine Review]