The Winemeister

In some respects the Australian wine industry is the victim of its own success. Since the island continent plunged into the international wine market seriously in the 1970s, it has produced an increasing amount of high quality and generally drinkable wines, and this is part of the problem. Its success has contributed to and fueled the world wine glut. Such overproduction is generally good for consumers, but it strains small producers. In their rapid expansion, Australian makers have embraced innovation and so even their boxed wines, with remarkable built-in, drip proof spigots (anathema to most of the rest of the world), are better than just drinkable, and, along with the New Zealand, the Aussies are leading the way with screw tops, even for their high-end wines. And so makers like the ecologically conscious Banrock Station wines, produced by the Hardy Wine Company, are available in the United States at anywhere from $3-6 per bottle (often cheaper than it is in Australia) and are better than drinkable. Banrock Station, comes from the vast Riverland region along the meandering Murray River northeast of the major South Australia (SA) regions of Barossa Valley, Adelaide Hills, and McLaren Vale, but my US import is still labeled generically, Southeastern Australia. Another case is the relatively new Yellow Tail, another Murray River wine, this from the Riverina region in New South Wales. It sells for about $2-3 more than the Banrock Station line. Although few will praise their complexity, they remain clean, fruity wines that represent excellent value, and they have flooded the American market. But Yellow Tail, too, is dubbed a Southeastern Australia wine, a designation with at least one too many geographical markers rendering it useless as an indicator of terroir. Too much of Australia's export, especially that shipped to the UK and the US, bears this indistinct designation, Southeastern Australia, which is neither SA, Victoria, nor NSW, but some hybrid or composite of everything that is not Western Australia. Worse yet is the designation on the bottle "Product of Australia." Too often the wines represent the same sort of hybrid: drinkable finally, but indistinct. I avoid, even shun, wines with such designations even when, or especially when, they come from major producers like Rosemount Estates. Too often this is the label's plonk, jug wines designed for office parties and family reunions, wines to be drunk from plastic glasses. Seek out the Rosemount terroir labels like the Hunter Valley Chardonnay or Shiraz and the wine is worth adding to your cellar.

The real gems of Australian wine, then, are those from specific viticultural regions, specific boutique makers, and their own distinct vineyards, wines infused with their terroir. Although the Aussies have championed lovely blends and boldly announced them, most often pairings, on their labels, Semillon-Chardonnay, Shiraz-Cabernet Sauvignon (the first mentioned is the dominant grape), my preferences are for 100% varietals, particularly of two grape, Semillon, generally a Bourdeaux blending grape, and Shiraz (which the French and Americans call Syrah, but the Aussies prefer the historical Persian designation of the grape). Semillon and Shiraz are often used in blends of Australian wines as well, of course, but it is the unblended varietals from particular vineyards that retain the subtleties of their region, retain their distinctive Australian terroir, and these are the wines worth seeking out, to drink and to hold. These two grape varieties are the glory of the Hunter.

Among my favorite Australian producers is Brokenwood Wines from the Lower Hunter Valley the vineyards set against the Brokenwood (not Brokeback) Mountains. Its specialty is Shiraz and its dry Hunter Valley production is full of flavors, jammy wines filled with red cherry, blackberry, loam, and hints of chocolate, big, moth-filling wines that will stand up to lamb, veal, and beef from the barbie, and the cheese aftermath. In particular Brokenwood's single vineyard Graveyard Vineyard Shiraz is one of the highest ranked Australian reds, capable of going head to head, or glass for glass, with the prohibitively priced Penfold's Grange from the Barossa Valley. The Graveyard Shiraz can be a $200 wine in Australia (twice that in restaurants, of course), but it can be found in the US for under a hundred dollars, and at certain discount wine sellers like the Wine Warehouse (my local is in Tallahassee, Florida) in the $50 range, not quite a steal, but a superb price (mine is the 2002 vintage). But even Brokenwood's standard Hunter Valley Shiraz (mine is 2006), what the maker calls "the younger brother of the Graveyard Shiraz," is an excellent find in the $25-30 range. Touting its medals in the 2007 Vinitaly competition, Wyndham Estates claims in its Time Out advert that it's "Where Australian Shiraz Began." Such provenance is not without challenge, of course, but the upstart Brokenwood can run with any of the big dogs in the Shiraz market.

Brokenwood's Hunter Valley whites are worth seeking out as well, especially its Semillon, although its Chardonays are almost their equal. The Semillons in either the standard label, particularly the ILR Reserve, or it slightly cheaper and blended Cricket Pitch label are light in color, almost clear with a slight green cast with flavors of lemon, grass, marmalade, and even flint. It is the wine for Sydney Harbour Oysters or Moreton Bay bugs, grilled Baramundi or prawns. The Cricket Pitch line is, however, multi vineyard and even multi regional, but it is cheaper for that reason. Pick up a Brokenwood Semillon at the wine shop at the Sydney Fish Market, the Reserve if you can, and sip it with some of the freshest oysters in the world. (The alternative below is the Two Rivers Stone's Throw Semillon [the award winning 2005], another Hunter Valley gem at about A$14.00 retail, since the small wine shop was out of the Brokenwood Semillon.) Yes, Fish Market dining means plastic glasses (20 cents each at the wine shop), plastic plates, and plastic utensils, but the basic products, the fresh, briny seafood, shine through nearly untainted.

Conditions at the tasting room or Cellar Door are less than ideal at Brokenwood, however. Lovely as the property is, the bar is un-airconditioned and the wines, the whites in particular, had been allowed to get pretty warm by the time I was tasting them. Even the reds were a few degrees warmer than ideal, but they were effected less than the whites, of course. The rustic bar is charming, but keep the whites chilled please, especially in summer.

At Tyrell it's all about the vat wines for me, the VAT 1 Semillon and the superb VAT 47 Chardonnay, Australia's first world-class Chardonnay, the former nutty and honeyed, the latter new world buttery. Right behind the Vat 47 is the Reserve Chardonnay. I'm a fan of Tyrrell's old-vine Brokenwood Reserve Shiraz as well, a competitor to the Brokenwood Shiraz above, both products of the red volcanic soil which spilled into the valley from the Brokenwood mountains.

But in the Hunter Valley I left my heart at Scarborough Wines, a boutique, family run vineyard specializing in whites, Chardonnays first and foremost, one of which, the white label, is available only at the Cellar Door, and grassy, greenish, vegetal and melony Semillon. The winery is inhospitable to large groups and the touring masses. It makes no provisions for tour buses and even smaller vans may have trouble negotiating its driveway. It is dedicated to smaller individual groups of relatives or friends.

I first came upon Scarborough Wines quite by accident, since it is rarely featured in the promotion of Hunter Valley wines--it is just too small, too new, its production too limited. But I ordered by chance at a Mod Oz favorite, the Cafe Sydney, high above the Customs House on Circular Quay, the Yellow Label Chardonnay to go with my oysters first and then my grilled Baramundi (Australia's fresh water treat). It turned out to be a sensational complement, and I vowed to pursue the maker into the Hunter Valley. I had the Semillon the following night at Wildfire, the combination Mod Oz restaurant and Churrascaria at the Overseas Passenger Terminal (my favorite restaurant in Sydney, but by a hair, just beating out Cafe Sydney), with stunning views of the Sydney Opera House and the Harbour Bridge (if the view is not blocked by a parked cruise ship). But it is food and wine that shine at Wildfire, and the Scarborough White Label Semillon was the perfect complement to my Sydney oysters and then the seared tuna in sea foam, that last a dazzler in presentation and taste.

At Scarborough Wines the tasting is sit down and structured, overseen by a knowledgeable hostess or two. The new, branded tasting glasses are arranged on a labeled, plasticised mat so one is confronted with a tableful of stemware. The tasting begins with the lightest wines, the Semillons, first the green label, then the white, then the signature Chrdonnays, Blue, Yellow and finally, the extraordinary limited edition White Label. Two reds are on offer as well, a Pinot Rose and the Pinot Noir.

The Semillons, fermented in stainless steel vats, are lemony with hints of grass, the white labeled more structured than the green. The Chardonnays are all oaky, aged sur lie in French oak casks. The more generic Blue Label is creamy with an undertone of fruit, even peach, and spice; the more pervasive and available Yellow Label adding nut and sometimes honey to the aforementioned. The limited production White Label, available only in the Hunter at the cellar door, is the prize of the lot with the full flavor of French oak casks in which it ages for 15 months, three months longer than either of the other Chardonnays. It is less a big, buttery new world Chardonnay than a more delicate French Chablis. The bottle I bought back to the States was a perfect match to the sashimi and seared tuna at Fusions in Tallahassee, Florida.

These Scarborough Chardonnays, then, challenged my preoccupation (if not obsession) with Hunter Valley Semillons. My major regret of the tasting was that, having already bought a case and a half of whites, I felt I could not bring home (first to Sydney and then to the States) the magnum of Yellow Label Chardonnay on offer at the Cellar Door for A$55.00. It would have been a perfect to share with friends at any of the Gulf of Mexico seafood restaurants in or around Tallahassee or Panama City Beach, Florida.

Perhaps it was the contrast, but finally I was less impressed with the reds, especially the Pino rose, which was thin, almost a pop wine. It worked well enough at the bar-b-que we went to with friends in the Sydney burbs, the grilled lamb and the ubiquitous Aussie bangers, but it really had little to say for itself.

The tasting concluded with a lovely, pungent late harvest Semillon dessert wine, thick and fruity with hints of citrus, a perfect end to a perfect tasting.

Well, another regret is that we did not stop by the Poole's Rock Cellar Door in the Hunter, and I only stumbled on their excellent Cockfighter's Ghost Semillon quite by accident in Sydney when I wanted to try a Hunter Semillon with Tandori chicken at the excellent Sitar restaurant. The wine was almost overwhelmed by the food, especially when we got to the seafood curry, but with the Tandori chicken the Cockfighter's Ghost Semillon was just fine, although frankly perhaps the Chardonnay would have offered a bit more. I was, however, in the midst of my Semillon obsession.