AP Birks Wendouree Cellars Shiraz Malbec 2006

As I’ve returned to Australia, I really need to get back in the swing of things, and today that means a local hero.  This wine is more than a little bit special, and not just because it’s an interesting blend.  If you don’t live in Australia, it could be one of the best producers you’ve never heard of.  I give you the AP Birks Wendouree Cellars Shiraz Malbec 2006.

When I arrived in Australia I quickly became acquainted with the names and labels of the top producers, and managed to visit the cellar doors of some of them, particularly in South Australia.  I came across Wendouree as a name well represented on the Langton’s Classification and on auction sites, but as they have no website or cellar door I couldn’t find out a great deal.

As it turns out, they were to be my first encounter with a mailing list winery, which is just what you would think – a producer who sells wine (almost?) exclusively to a set list of customers through the post.  It’s quite an enviable situation, where customers are essentially beating a path to your door, and you might think that would make the wines impossible to source.

For better or worse, that’s not so much the case.  While some customers on the list buy their allotted bottles and cellar them away, the fact that demand outstrips supply tempts others to sell theirs, often through auction sites.  One way or another they turn up in some of the nicer bottle shops and every now and again on a wine list.  The “better” part of that is that people who aren’t on the list are able to enjoy the wines, but “worse” is that the prices the wines can command on the secondary market can be multiples of the prices charged by Wendouree.  So almost any time such a bottle finds its way into the hands of someone not on the mailing list, there’s someone other than the producer pocketing a hefty markup.  While I’ve been fortunate enough to buy some wines direct, I’ve also purchased some second hand.  The money I paid was not unreasonable for the wine in question, but it was disappointing knowing so little of it went to the producer.

The term “cult” is often associated with fans of Wendouree, by the likes of Oz Clark, Jamie Goode, and even Langton’s.  Being a fan, I have an obvious bias, but I don’t think it’s apt for two reasons.  First, I associate cults with a disconnection from logic, where people who are part of them believe themselves to have some insight that those outside do not.  While not everyone is a fan of Wendouree for whatever reason, I know of few detractors when it comes to the wines themselves.  Second, people who join cults typically have to give up all their money, but the wines of Wendouree are not overly expensive for their quality, particularly if you are on the mailing list.

If you want the classic cult wine, you need look no further than the archetype, Screaming Eagle, which has no end of detractors (based on the hype, obviously not on the wine as so few have ever tried it) and is completely unaffordable on top of being largely unavailable.  The disconnect from reality is evident in that they think of themselves as “a grand cru – a Napa first growth.”  A tragic case drinking too much of their own Kool-Aid.  Jancis Robinson recently tweeted, “Must say I find French wine names outside France really silly.”  I think that goes double for French wine classifications.

So what makes Wendouree so special?  The winery is a hundred years old, and some of the grapes are off vines planted as far back as 1892.  Even with their younger vines, yields are kept very low, and the winery produces only about 1800 cases per year.  Everything is harvested by hand, often across multiple passes.  The winery itself makes use of open top fermenters, carefully controlled malolactic fermentation in tank, and a mix of new and used French oak.  Wines are made for ageing – a few years back they released a 1991 varietal Malbec in magnums some 18 years after vintage (and yes, I managed to bag one).  As I write this, there is a 1975 Wendouree Cabernet Malbec Shiraz up for auction with Langtons which I would love to try.

If there’s one aspect, beyond the mailing list, that might make people want to put Wendouree in the category of a cult wine, it’s the somewhat shy nature of the people behind it.  Tony and Lita Brady have owned the property since 1974, but their focus has been on the vines and wines.  As far as I can tell, they do no promotion, they enter their wines in no shows, and they do not comment publicly about their wines.  Only rarely do wine writers grace their office, and then the focus seems as much on technique for producing the best cup of coffee as bottle of wine.  There are no tasting notes, and in the case of this bottle, no back label.  (In fact this bottle doesn’t even have an ABV printed – is that legal?  I wasn’t looking closely enough – the ABV is there in very, very fine print.)  Their wines speak for themselves, and in a world that knows no end of self-promotion, I find that refreshing.  More a cloister than a cult.

I hope I can be forgiven for not having much more to say about the Clare Valley, having been there as recently as July with the ArtWine Graciano.  As to these grapes, they are well known to this blog both as varietals and as components in blends, but this is the first time we’ve seen them together.  In France, no region springs to mind as being known for growing both, though as some Syrah used to make its way into Bordeaux blends from time to time (pre-AC regulations), they’ve certainly been found in the same bottle before.  I’m somewhat surprised I haven’t yet come across Syrah Malbec blends in South America because there are a few producers blending them there as well.

As to this wine, in the glass it is clear and bright, dark ruby colour, just starting to edge toward brick red, with quick coloured legs.  On the nose I get sweet spice, roses, perfume, blackberries, and caramelized meat that’s just about to be charred.  It’s developing and intense.  On the palate it’s dry with medium plus acidity, medium body, medium plus alcohol, medium plus intensity, medium plus fine tannins, and a long finish.  There are notes of red meat on the palate, black pepper, liquorice, blackberries, and a little charcoal.

This wine is exceptional.  It’s rich, intense, and complex.  I’m almost certainly enjoying it too young, and at the expense of further development over the next few years.

As I mentioned, there’s no link to the producer’s website because there isn’t one, and there is no cellar door so don’t go knocking on doors near the pin in the map on Wendouree Road without an invitation.

Sadie Family Columella 2007

While they’re certainly thin on the ground here in Australia, I’m a big fan of the wines of South Africa.  I started this blog by writing about an entry level white, Goats Do Roam, and now as I approach my hundredth wine, I have one that is at the other end of the price spectrum, The Sadie Family Columella 2007.

In researching this wine, I think I’ve come across yet another iconic winemaker about whom I knew almost nothing, a bit like when I went to the Stephen Pannell tasting, and that despite having personally carried some of his wines back with me from South Africa almost two years ago.

When I was last in South Africa, the trip was all about the World Cup and hardly at all about wine.  However, I did manage to swing by a wine shop and picked up a mixed case, largely consisting of wines I had enjoyed on my previous visit.  However, the Chenin Blanc I wanted from Ken Forrester was unavailable.  The merchant suggested instead that I try an unfamiliar wine, Palladius, which was a white blend.  I picked up two bottles, brought them back to Australia, put them in the cellar, and never bothered to investigate what I had brought home.  It turns out they are wines of The Sadie Family, made by Eben Sadie who I now know as the first celebrity winemaker of South Africa.

Eben Sadie worked throughout the world in the wine industry, before returning to South Africa in 1998 to work with Charles Back, who is best known for producing wines of The Spice Route and Fairview, makers of Goats Do Roam.  (See what I did there?  It’s all connected!)  After very quickly making a reputation for himself, he started his own winery in 1999, initially using the Spice Route facilities, and produced the first vintage of Columella in 2000.  He co-founded a vineyard in Priorat, Spain in 2001 where he produces a wine in partnership with Dominik Huber, a restauranteur from Munich.  In 2002 he produced his first vintage of Palladius, and in 2003 branched out to produce Sequillo wines which are something of a more affordable second label.

I’m not sure I’m going to be able to do justice to Eben Sadie, having covered the dates and dry facts.  Apparently he is something of a personality, and I think he’s relatively young, turning 40 this year.  He’s considered a wine guru, having seen how wine is made both throughout Europe and in Oregon and then deciding he was going to apply that in South Africa.  He’s been described as an enfant terrible by Tim Atkin MW in Decanter, a prophet by Jancis Robinson, and an artisan by Marc Kent of Boekenhoutskloof (who I’ve always thought of as an artisan, so he would know).  He eschews the term winemaker, preferring the wine to be an expression of terroir, and therefore his job is to stay out of the way so that can happen, rather than trying to make that happen.

This is not a unique profile – many winemakers spend their early years working vintages around the world to return to their homelands and apply their learning.  Likewise many winemakers have similar ideas as to non-intervention in winemaking and expression of terroir.  It’s actually a pretty easy formula, but it really doesn’t explain anything, because there’s clearly something unique about Eben Sadie and his approach that isn’t evident in any of the articles about him that I’ve read or the documents released related to his wine.  But there is absolutely something that sets him and his wines apart, and if I could pin it down I might like to follow in his footsteps.  But experiencing winemaking in different parts of the world isn’t enough, nor is having the best intentions and practices.  There’s something else, and I don’t know what it is, but he has it.

Columella, the wine, is named for Lucius Junius Moderatus Columella, who Sadie describes as the first wine writer.  A first century agriculturalist, he authored De Re Rustica, a twelve volume work on all aspects of agriculture.  The wine as a tribute to him is reflected in the entirety of the label being in Latin.  This includes place names, which means Swartland from Dutch/Afrikaans turns into Nigra in Terra in Latin, then into something along the lines of Black Country in English, apparently to do with a native plant with a dark appearance after rains.  The wine itself is a blend, with 80% Syrah being the core, along with 20% Mourvèdre.

Swartland is something of a new wine region for me, though having now just found it on a map, I drove right through it while I was on honeymoon.  (I hope I can be forgiven for having had other things on my mind.)  It’s north of Cape Town on the west coast of the country as part of the Western Cape Geographical Unit, and within that the Coastal Region.  The climate is warm though mitigated by proximity to the Atlantic and very stable.  It is a traditional breadbasket for grain production in its flat, open plains, with vineyards on foothills or along the river Berg.  The area had been known for production of bulk and fortified wine, and it is home to the largest co-operative in the country, but there has been a recent trend toward high quality wine from smaller producers.

As to the particulars of The Sadie Family vines, they lease seven vineyards throughout Swartland.  They do not irrigate, and roughly half their vines are trellised, with the remainder being bush vines.  They have very low yields generally, and thin their crop further in dry years.  Their soils are a mix of decomposed slate, decomposed granite, and sandstone and slate / clay mixtures.  They hand pick into baskets, and then hand sort the grapes.  After destemming, half are crushed, and then left to cold soak for two to four days.  Fermentation is by natural yeast in open top wooden fermenters over three to four week with controlled temperatures, followed by additional maceration on skins for up to three weeks.  After pressing, the wine is transferred into barrels using buckets rather than pumped, and gravity is used for other transfers.  The parcels are eventually blended and mature in oak for up to two years, then bottled without fining or filtering.

In the glass, this wine is clear and bright, with a medium plus purple colour and slow legs with a bit of colour to them.  The nose is clean and intense, but took ages to get this way – decanted four hours ago and was very closed at that point.  It has notes of perfume, blueberry and chocolate.  On the palate, it’s dry with medium plus acidity, medium plus body, medium plus alcohol, medium minus soft tannins, and medium plus flavour intensity.  It’s a rich wine with notes of chocolate, green peppercorns, blueberry, cherry, cola, and coffee.  It has a bit of fruit sweetness to it – not to do with residual sugar, just fruit.  It has long length with a herby finish.

This is an exceptional wine.  It’s intense, long lasting, and well balanced – not overly tannic or alcoholic (though there’s enough), but with a solid punch of flavour and supporting cast. It has a very solid structure, but not one based exclusively on tannins.  Yet it’s graceful – it allows appreciation if you stop to consider it in your mouth, but not overly obvious.  It’s not exactly subtle, but somewhere in between – you’ll think it’s nice, but only when you stop will you appreciate it does it really reveal itself.

Henschke Henry's Seven Barossa 2008

Tonight I’m sampling a wine from a very important Australian producer, and while this isn’t the most famous wine from that producer, it is important and interesting nonetheless.

I have before me a bottle of Henschke Henry’s Seven Barossa 2008.  It’s a blend of Shiraz, Grenache, and Viognier.  As I mentioned when I wrote about the Domain Day wine a few weeks ago, the Barossa Valley is a bit of Australian holy ground, and best known for robust Shiraz.  It is also the home of some of the oldest vines in Australia, many of them Grenache bush vines, meaning vines not trained to wires.

If Barossa is holy ground, Henschke is Australian divinity.  A family run winery since 1868, it has had many generations working its vines and making wine over almost the last decade and a half.  (Note to self, mark the calendar to buy some 150th anniversary wines around 2018.)  The current generation consists of husband and wife Stephen (winemaker) and Prue (vigneron), as well as at least one Dachshund named Cassie.  They make a range of wines, red, white, and sparkling, with their winery based in Eden Valley, a cool subregion of Barossa.  The have vineyards in Eden Valley in Barossa and Lenswood in the Adelaide Hills, which gives them a range of grapes, with an emphasis on cooler climates.

Having hit on second wines yesterday, it’s worth talking a bit about Henschke in terms of icon wines.  So with the great houses of France, particularly Bourdeaux, there is the notion of grand vin which carries the house name, and possibly a second wine with a different but evocative name.  In Australia, this is turned on its head.  Henschke has an icon wine, Hill of Grace, but it represents a small fraction of its production.  It is a rare and beautiful wine which I’ve only tasted once, and while when it springs to mind when people mention Henschke, it is not what most people have tasted when they’ve had a bottle with a Henschke label on it.  Rather, most have had something like the Henry’s Seven in front of me.  And while Henschke has a range of wines, it doesn’t really touch the low end, in that while this might be one of their more affordable wines, it’s neither cheap nor cheaply made.

As I mentioned, this wine is a blend and sourced from the Barossa Valley, in particular Eden Valley.  The blend, Shiraz, Grenache and Viognier (with 2% Mourvèdre according to the tasting notes), conjures forth thoughts of the Rhône.  I’m not sure in which region it would be considered a traditional blend – in the Côte-Rôtie you certainly see Syrah co-fermented with a considerable whack of Viognier, but I tend to think of Grenache as more typical of the Southern Rhône (and Spain of course).  But I’m a student, so for all I know there is an AOC that has been doing SGV for years.  But Australia is not bound by French AOC rules, so while things like Syrah/Shiraz and Cabernet-Sauvignon blends are uncommon in France (except for one region I can’t remember right now) they can be commonplace in Australia.

So this wine – very nice.  Friends brought it when we hosted them for Thanksgiving dinner a few weeks back, and as we had already selected some wines to go with the turkey, we set this one aside.  I wish I had some of the Pomerol from last night to taste side by side, as this couldn’t be more different.  While it’s a similar age (this is roughly six months younger – that crazy hemisphere thing) it’s from a different planet.  I have a bias in favour of New World wines in general, and so when I was asked to describe how to pick an Australian Shiraz, I said that a taster should look up from their notes and clear their mind with a swig in the mouth.  If the first thing that comes to mind is “damn, this is delicious” then it’s an Australian Shiraz.

Seriously though, this is a much more fruit forward style.  Shiraz makes a much fuller wine, and while people speak of Grenache in France as being a lighter wine, in Barossa from old vines it is like a grape shotgun at point blank range.  The Viognier adds aromatics and apparently helps in colour fixing in co-fermentation.  In this case it certainly keeps up in terms of palate weight.  This is a delightful blend, with intensity and concentration, but without heavy handedness.

Appearance

Clear and bright, medium-plus ruby with quick, thick pale ruby legs.

Nose

Clean and developing with medium-plus intensity and sweet spice, fresh raspberries, blackberries, and a bit of liquorice.

Palate

Dry (though the fruit is so fresh and sweet, I had to think twice), medium acidity, medium soft tannins, medium-plus body, medium-plus alcohol, medium-plus flavour intensity, with strong blackberry, raspberry, liquorice, sweet spice, and a bit of old oak.  Medium-plus length with some plums on the finish.

Conclusions

This is a very good wine – intense across the board, and so balanced with medium-plus being the norm for the scores.  The acidity is not quite up to the rest of the scores, but it does not put the wine out of balance.  The complexity is only in its infancy, in that I expect it to be more rounded with some cellaring.  I think this wine will improve over the next five years at least.