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Plum pie and woodsy white pepperiness, and complementary, expensive smelling—swanky—cigar box oak. A dark shimmer too; wet carbon paper. Along with wafts of red baked dirt ahead of the rain. Roast beef meats and anise. Same also for the palate: cracked chip gravel, fruit mince pie sweet-sapid and that wet carbon before a comfy, warm close. Which is among saturated cane berry pippy juiciness. This has some character and depth and it lingers pretty long also. Mouth-aromas of gentle baking spice. This has the pedigree to evolve well in the cellar for a decade. 94(95)/100 (e) - 8/10 (h) - 😋😋 - $100 cellar direct. Only issue with this wine is oak. Not its quality, but the volume of it. Damned attractive though it is.
The Verona vineyard sits atop dirt similar to Brokenwood’s Graveyard vineyard which is just over the road as I understand—recall—it. So the fruit provenance is exemplary. The oldest vines were planted in the late sixties; the youngest are from early 2000s. This wine is not at quite in the same league as the stellar vintage preceding it, but it’s still got serious class.
The ’21 Verona, incidentally, is one of the finest Hunter Shiraz I’ve ever tasted upon release (in a blind line-up I mean). Not that I get to taste as many Hunter wines as I used to. Actually, thinking about it, even when I resided in Sydney and when I had a weekly column for The Australian Financial Review (1993-2016) tasting samples from the Hunter Valley were comparatively few and far between (given the qualitative importance of this relatively small wine region—in terms of the area under vine in the Lower Hunter).
Anyhow, in my tasting note database the ’21 Verona sits in the same category as the likes of the ’17 Thomas Wines Elenay, ’17 Brokenwood (standard bottling), the ’19 and ’14 Brokenwood Graveyards, ’09 Brokenwood Mistress Block, the ’18s of Thomas Belford and Sweetwater, ’07 Tyrrell’s Wines Vat 9…All wines you could drop into an international Syrah Shiraz tasting and expect to hear expressions of serious adulation.
And here for reference is my assessment of the ’21 should you be inclined to search out a bottle.
Deep, dark chocolate panforte spicy. A sniff of wet, spent shotgun cartridge. So dark and rich smelling this, but still fresh and succulent smelling. Dusty brick and kumquat; Vietnamese mint tang. A delicious chocolate brownie comfiness to it as it opens up. Despite the depth there’s still has a lightness on the tongue (in a way that the finest Hunter shirazes so effortlessly are) and then there’s a mocha glacé orange thing. A touch of anise also. All this among crisp brandied dark cherry and bitter pit flavours. A succulent pippy berry core and a lingering finish. 95(97)/100 (e) - 10/10 (h) - 😋😋😋 - $99.90 at the Australian Wine Centre. This is will become most great I reckon, and will last decades. My kind of shiraz.
Deep, dark figgy fruitcake. Getting more chocolate panforte with air. And then there’s pure, glossy forest berry fruit too. Mulberry dense and rye sourdough crusty, and soused cherry stone. There's fabulous deep fruit flooding the tongue too: fruitcake moist and with juicy berry concentration, glistens and sparkles. There’s a carbon paper tannin shimmer and bitter chocolate adding edginess, before a gentle sea salty break at the back. Is it all cabernet sauvignon here I’m wondering?* Because there’s a kind of terra cotta nebbiolo dustiness in this—and such great melty tannin. Don’t really care either way: it’s just a delightful interpretation of a fabulous grape variety. 95(96)/100 (e) - 9/10 (h) - 😋😋😋 - $47 cellar direct. *I was aware that a Longview Cabernet Sauvignon was in the line-up, and well-aware that there's nebbiolo aplenty on the estate: which is why I pondered this. But I’m assured it is pure cabernet sauvignon.
I took a trip to Longview in 2021, to have a look—primarily—at the several different clones of nebbiolo planted across the property, and there was already evidence of changes taking place among some cabernet sauvignon blocks. This being the conversion of some of as Treasury Wine Estates—TWE—had decided to conclude acquiring cabernet from the estate. This was around the time that TWE—and others—were mired in red wine over-supply as a result of the China market export hiatus.
TWE, for the uninitiated, is the owner of Penfolds, Wynns Coonawarra Estate, and a few other fine Australian wine labels which the company doesn’t give a damn about these days.
TWE’s disdain for Lindeman's and Wolf Blass is a particular disappointment to this individual. That said, at least there’s some respect shown in the latter's online presence. The great wine heritage of Lindeman’s, however, in both the Hunter and Coonawarra, barely warrants a mention on the dilapidated website that represents this distinguished wine house. Which was established in 1843 incidentally, a year prior to Penfolds. This disrespect is really most sad and encapsulates all that has gone awry following much of Australian wine's commodification post the delusional pronouncement of the Strategy 2025 in 1999.
Treasury Wine Estates’ landing page—FYI—reads (in part): ‘We combine world-class winemaking with world-class brand marketing. We aspire to be the world's most desirable luxury wine company.’ This as an H3 level heading. While one certainly can’t dispute TWE’s winemaking credentials—there are a number of truly gifted wine creatives in the company’s employ—there’s only one brand with receives world class brand marketing attention. And this, of course, is Penfolds.
But no matter: Treasury’s aspirational luxury wine-lovers’ loss is our gain. For a good bit more of the Longview’s north-facing ‘Vista’ hillside has been turned over to more nebbiolo, including some CN 142 clone which is most highly regarded in Piemonte. As it should be here, of course. And it is to those who believe that we can grow fine nebbiolo in Australia.
The ’21 and ’22 vintages of Longview’s Saturnus nebb, incidentally, are formidably good and well worth seeking out. The ’22 Fresco nebbiolo, pinot, barbera blend reviewed below is a quite delicious entryway to the style of red wines this estate produces, in a more easygoing form.
Longview's finest, original rows of cabernet sauvignon have not been neglected, of course, and these are responsible for this divine wine. The ’21 vintage deselection of Longview’s cabernet sauvignon was released under the Devil’s Elbow label and won the trophy for Best Cabernet Sauvignon at the Royal Melbourne Wine Awards in 2022. So there you go. It sold for under $30 a bottle and, by the way, tasted luxurious.
Crunchy, granny smith apple crumble chilled from the fridge. So there’s sweet, just caramelised, orchard fruit among sharper chewy skin things, as well as a comfy smelling wheatiness. Radish too. Not quite dried thyme, and then gentle brebis, semi hard-sheep cheese wafts. There's chew here too: chew, and then some small cell pear juiciness. Compressed in the middle but it opens, revealing gentle, sapid-sweet glazed globe artichoke sapid sweetness. Root veggies and threads of crunchy chewy winter orchard fruit. Bracing icy quartz dust sparkle among the fruit density. Such a pleasure to taste this. 95/100 (e) - 9/10 (h) - 😋😋 - $45 cellar direct. As you can figure, I’m a bit of a fan of this. No idea how it will age, but then why would you need it too when it’s so sublime now?
There’s never a media release or wine specifcation sheet accompanying a Hoddles Creek tasting sample. As I’ve written here the only detail provided is on a sticker attached to the bottle which—usually—has just one or two pithy details from Franco d’Anna, along with an RRP, email address, and a mobile contact number. Franco, you see, is responsible for tasting sample provision to wine writers, as well as being winegrower and webmaster (etc.). The sticker attached to this sample read: 'It's taken 17 years for this block to get there. Planted on rootstock so it has taken a bit longer for the vines to settle into a routine.’
This is the first ‘serious’ pinot blanc I’ve tasted from the property since the release of the 2021, under the Hoddle’s Creek 1er Yarra Valley label. That wine was itself excellent and this nudges things up a notch higher, I reckon. Well worth the wait.
Pristine pulpy smelling into more granular indications: watermelon rind floral, crab apple chamomile. (This latter descriptor plucked from a memory packed away many years ago; a divine dessert experienced at the Royal Mail Hotel at Dunkeld during Dan Hunter’s tenure.) As the wine warms there’s subtle jambon cuit too. In the mouth it’s relatively simple, but there’s so much vitality and refreshment about it, and perfectly judged fruit density, that it’s—well—just a delight to taste.. Has chew and compressed small cell, sea salty textured, crunchy grainy fruit flesh on the palate—pear, feijoa. A salivating core leading to a sapid, mouth-sucking close. So much fun. 91/100 (e) - 8/10 (h) - 😋😋 - $25.99 from the d’Anna family owned Boccacio Cellars.
Franco d’Anna’s sticker observation on the tasting sample for this release reads: 'In 24 yields back to normal so first Estate Blanc since 2020. Tank ferment, no temp control.’
Seemingly this contradicts my observations about the previous wine, but there was a 2020 release under the regular estate label. Interestingly, and I only re-read my tasting notes made on the 28th November 2020 just ahead of publishing this pair of pinot blanc reviews, I observed characters consistent with both of these: radish and caramelised root vegetables among them.
These two wines were not assessed in the same line-up. The estate was in a group that included other sapid tank-fermented white wines. The Junior I dropped into a small bracket of barrel-fermented chardonnays.
Wet pepper spice among slipped plum skins and pong. Fun shiraz pong and the plum is autumn gold. There’s sprinkly dust and the gentlest sniff of curry bush—so sotolon. Which I thinks is a fine thing to discover in cooler-grown shiraz. There’s a crisp—kind of smoky—austerity on the palate at first; a real speck - pork belly cured in a chimney thing. But then it melts more on the tongue and gains XO tangerine and sweet-sharp plumminess. The texture is quite beautifully articulated; the tannins are fine and chipped red rock dusty in character. Lots of space between the flavour notes too. Warm, grey river pebbles, green peppercorn, and tangerine peel again to close. Most delightful. 94(95)/100 (e) - 9/10 (h) - 😋😋 - $45 cellar direct.
Clonakilla’s Shiraz Viognier is the wine that usually gets all the acclaim—rightfully given its illustrious track record and significance in the Australian shiraz firmament—but in ’23 this wine gets my nod. The shiraz viognier I found just a bit too fragrant stonefruit leafy viognier influenced. Still a lovely wine mind, but I’d sooner have three bottles of this than one of the flagship this vintage.
Deep dark, perfumed maraschino, into black cherry soaked bitter sweet chocolate cake. A dusty cocoa smell which sits attractively among the concentrated juice. Gets more mulberry compote amid black coal dust. There's fruit aplenty in the mouth, which both shimmers and sparkles, and it develops a sort of woodsy bark coffee grounds thing. Has a slurp to it, and warmth. But has the right amount of right shaped tannins to provide structure to the slurp. Has a slide and glide before finishing with vanilla custard skin. While this is not my style of shiraz it’s certainly a wine style of intent, and one which has been styled well. And also one which will appeal to many*. 93(94)/100 (e) - 6/10 (h) - 👌 - $42 cellar direct.
Although clearly not to the judges of the Adelaide Wine Show.
Smells most Italianate this, in a brick dusty, tangy, dehydrated peel, caneberry pippy way. There’s a good mix of sapid and sweet smelling things, as some cut grassiness. Although not green. Wet rock moss. Sapid tasting too, with wet/dry tannins, which are slightly melty (any nebb in here?*). Cane berry—loganberry—sharp tasting too, with sour plum—of the Asian dried plum kind. Dried rose too. Not the longest or deepest, but sharp. Still looks good on day three, which I reckon is a most positive thing. 91/100 (e) - 8/10 (h) - 😋 - $32 cellar direct.
Plum skin—blue-black plum—and fine white pepper. Pongy in a positive way (reduction diminishing with air). Some transitory frankincense too. There’s decent tannin in here — real red wine tannin. Sort of mataro Turkish coffee-type tannins. There’s a core of cane berries within, and sour cherry sweet-sharpness and mocca* as it loosens up. Gets better and better. Love the brie skin mossy white pepper aromatics which reminds me of De Palma salumi. This is a blast. 92(93)/100 (e) - 8/10 (h) - 😋😋 - $20 cellar direct. Reckon this will be even better with a few more years in bottle, although I’ve no real sensory point of reference. Although it does its best towards the end of day two. Either way, an absolute bargain.
Deep, poached pinot-like brandied cherries smelling. Plummy earthy spicy things also and moscatel Assam tea. This is intrigueing. Currantiness builds gradually. Attacks with tangy caneberry, getting chewy, wet brick dusty on the tongue. Builds souk spiciness as it warms and lingers. And boy does the edgy, juicy pippiness linger long. The tannins are long travelling too and intricately interleaved within this pippy juiciness. Long and mouth-sucking, but gentle; with valedictory mouth-aroma twists of freshly-ground white pepper. Has some Syrah style. 95/100 (e) - 9/10 (h) - 😋😋😋 - $80 cellar direct.
Sapid crisp raisin toast and black wet pepper smelling. Brambly blackberry crusty. Has some dried stonefruit of the yellow kind - peachy, faint apricot. Gets more fusty* white pepper as it sits. And how it tastes too. Quite limpid and fragile tasting, but in a most good way. Young raspberries: not super concentrated but pure. There’s some complexing pong too, of the Syrah reduction kind. Wet, spent shotgun cartridge also. And those pure caneberries sparkle and build. There's fab crustiness to this too. 94(95)/100 (e) - 9/10 (h) - 😋😋😋 - $60 cellar direct. One component about which I’m (slightly) critical about is the somewhat obvious vanilla scented oak—finest Queen Fairtrade vanilla pod extract with seeds—at the close. But I’m being needlessly churlish probably as there’s so much else going on I doubt it will be an issue to others. Let’s give it 95(96) and raise our glasses to many fine ongoing vintages for one of the oldest vineyards in the Tamar Valley.
Cane berry pippy, and comfy moss smelling: a positive pong, sort of Monastrell-Mataro-Mourvèdre pepper dried cow pat. Soused black cherry density too, and wet red bricks. As it tastes too: almost a Wendouree-ishness* to the palate, in terms of the tannin austerity evolving into short-crust pastry melt. Maillard reaction-like, standing roast rib complexing things also. Plenty of juice, dustiness, and grip. A warmth, but not heat. This has restraint, sapidity, and a nourishing rye crustiness—a most fabulous palate, and gently complex nose which pulls one in. Will gain complexity with an another five years in bottle. 94(95)/100 (e) - 9/10 (h) - 😋😋😋 - $33.
*Not for the first time when tasting a red wine from this vineyard, my senses have jumped the fenceline and reminded me of the dinstinctive scents of Adelina’s northern neighbour, AP Birks Wendouree. Sometimes it’s a sniff of anise or bay, but with this it’s Spring Farm roast beef meatiness—the end bits. And the texture—nature—of the tannin.
The YV on the label refers to the two young blocks established in 2013 and 2017 with planting material sourced from from Wendouree (plus a lesser percentage of two Mendoza Malbec clones from Chalmers Nursery). There’s also a dollop of the 100 year old estate Shiraz fruit in this too.
I’ve dropped by Adelina a number of times over—and through—the seasons and can tell you that there would be few vineyards anywhere in the land tended as meticulously as it. Adelina is also an ACO certified organic vineyard. You can follow Col McBryde’s honest insights about dry farming in this part of the world here. This wine is—without any doubt—one of the best value Australia red wines I’ve tasted in many a year. Not the least because of it most special provenance.
Deep and dark and with cracked red rock pepper spice, plus some animal meatiness. Complex—cold—steak and kidney spelt pie smelling. A dried fruit density, plus shimmer. Lands deep rich and edgy, building fine tannins and some creaminess. Deep, lush and quite unforced with power but also freshness. Sure there's alcohol, but whoa what a start!* The fruit is lingering and figgy while the tannins are red dusty ferrous. Maybe gets a bit—the tiniest bit—oak-sucked to finish, but this is the only quibble. Although it’s fine oak and most fruit complimentary oak too. There’s a delightful valedictory tweak of liquorice. But I reckon the finish will resolve and the wine will grow. 94(95)/100 (e) - 😋 - 7/10 (h) - $80.
*This was the first wine I tasted—although the seventh I nosed—in a half-blind line-up which included ‘22s from the Clare Valley and Heathcote. Hence my excitement about the palate, even venturing back and forth to it after assessing the others. It was a surprise, however, that this turned ou to be from McLaren Vale for I’m not ordinarily a fan of Shiraz from this region—Grenache from the district being a different—and consistently superior—grape matter entirely. But then ’22 has provided a number of delightful Shirazes from the Vale. Oh, the rewards that different vintages can bring. And of those ‘22s I’ve had the opportunity and pleasure to taste, this is positioned at one or two so far on the vintage grid. Although I’m quite awrding it the checkered flag.
Also to be found here should be looking to source it within Finland. Finland being the homeland of this wine’s co-creator, Formula 1® racing driver Valtteri Bottas. Hence, the groanworthy ‘grid’ pun above.
Brininess, sweet toast crustiness, cured complexity—of the parma into bresaola kind— and deep. Cane berry pips build. Cane berry pippiness on the palate also — loganberry more than raspberry — there’s most serious fruit in here. Has a biscuity bresaola mashed pips mouth-aroma thing also, while the tannins are melting and most Nebby*. And they’re gently integrated in the fine mousse*. Has intriguing textural complexity and I seriously want to taste this—drink I mean—with some Pino’s Dolce Vita wagyu bresaola. Because this is emphatically bresaola bubbly. 94/100 (e) - 9/10 (h) - 😋😋😋 - $29.99 cellar direct. Crown cap sealed.
Intense red fruitiness on the nose: raspberry-blackberry conserve pippiness and a sniff of rye sourdough crust. How it tastes too—packed with pippy red cane berry fruit—although not especially long. But most tasty it is and dry cane berry fruit finishing with just the right balance of juice and grip, and a mouth-aroma waft of crust. Not super complex, but super pure—flavourful—and lots of fun. 91/100 (e) - 😋😋 - 8/10 (h) - $35 cellar direct. Crown cap sealed.
Prosecco orange blossom smells, among fresh pear skin corella. Some dried oregano. Has depth this. Some dehydrated pineapple too .This has decent weight and width in the mouth, although not a great deal of flavour. But it’s balanced and gently chewy: tasty, with a good middle. But just trickles away a bit. But there are gentle mouth-aroma aromatics. A tickle of bitter salad greens. 90/100 (e) - 8/10 (h) - 😋 - $32 cellar direct. Sealed with Diam technical cork.
So complex on the nose (and elsewhere). Crab apple, rye flour crumble, fresh cut bacon rind. Amandine with soused morello cherry on top. Smells so compelling. Super-complex, aged, amandine melting in the mouth also. Acid is out there, but integrated (if this makes sense). Tastes like it has a good bit of reserve in it—a complex base—although it pulls up a bit to close. Who cares? There's peel, chew, density. Ozone bracing too, with anchovies and raspberry pips on the breeze. Granular, blackberry cox's apple flavour/texture characters an’ all. And Christmas baking spice. This is a whole bubbly world of fun. 94/100 (e) - 9/10 (h) - 😋😋😋 - $45 cellar direct. Crown cap sealed. And in case you’re wondering why I’m not pointing higher, it’s because of the slightly clipped finish. But is is still fabulous. A remarkable thing to behold.
Smells pure and vital; has a real energy to it. Cane berry pippiness; tiny iced liquid raspberry seeds. A sniff of sweet leather and short, crumbly pastry. Bursts with deep cane berry pippy fruit on the palate too—loganberryish. A rosehip sumac edginess also. Excellent texture here: super-fine fizziness and extract. There's subtle mouth aroma wafts of Serrano and then goji berry sweet-sharpness.
If you let it sit a little—warm and open up—it gets plumper through the middle, and there’s more still winey width. Classy pink méthode this, and one which I wouldn’t mind revisiting with another 6-12 months in bottle. I reckon there may be more to come. 94(95)/100 (e) - 😋😋 - 9/10 (h) - $65 cellar direct. Sealed with Diam technical cork.
Fabulous fruit depth here: poached and compressed. Has blackberry baked apple Blanc de Blancs-like smells. Deep, puckered stonefruit skin and rockpool brininess. Fresh kelp, yet caramelised—but fresh—development. Deep toasty, almost tarte tatin brûléed. Dry though, bitter quince skin and big deep compressed pippy black berry—from Chardonnay I think—through the middle. Showing some cork age, but in a good way. Fab, plum dried skin in the middle. Before gentle apricot skin chew velvet to close. Something just a bit abrupt about the finish, but most certainly personality packed for most of the experience. 94/100 (e) - 8/10 (h) - 😋😋 - $60 cellar direct. Sealed with Ganau Perlage technical cork.
This has some style: red rose fruits and gently salamandered poached peaches, and white nectarines. Some white chocolate. As it warms a little, there are gentle wafts of clotted cream. There's compressed white nectarine and fraises on the palate too. Chewy grippy, with a touch of warmth—phenolic warmth methinks (a good thing in this). Not super long, but I do much appreciate the way the mouth-watering tangerineness rises. Texture is long, although not the flavour, as yet. Seriously classy and seductive — and gets better with air. 95(96)/100 (e) - 10/10 (h) - 😋😋😋 - $60 cellar direct.
Not for the first time when tasting a wine—blind—Phillipa Sibley’s, Circa, The Prince dessert, ‘Snow White and Rose Red’* has popped to mind, which was as gorgeous to the eye as it was on the palate. Although here, of course, I can’t see the colour of the wine as I’m tasting it from a Riedel Blind Blind**.)
*I’ve been fortunate enough to be able to taste previous releases of Albino PNO both a short time after receiving tasting samples from Nic Pieterkin, and then again from 6-18 months later.
Has dried peel and positive pong. White blackberry earth. Some bresaola cured meatiness. Has perfectly judged shape on the palate—creaminess into melty terra cotta dustiness. Sapid-pippy fruit and chew. Blood orange glacé peel and loganberry pips bursting. Spelt pastry melty. Quite a delight to taste this. (And to — later — drink on, a number of occasions). 95/100 (e) - 9/10 (h) - 😋😋 - and at $26 cellar direct this is incredible value, although I must now write was. The latest Melbourne Wine Show rosé trophy winning 2024 has just—early December—replaced the ’23 on the Longview website, and it’s now $32 cellar direct.
I’ve also learned that despite the very recent vintage rollover—the first week of December—there is not a drop of ’23 trickling through distribution channels, as the last of it was taken by a clearly discerning — and significant—Adelaide entertainment destination. So should you find yourself enjoying the hospitality of the members enclosure at The Adelaide Oval —and other of its other select venues —you’ll have a decent rosato at hand to enhance your summer sporting engagements. A sublime accompaniment would be wagyu bresaola should any be on offer.
With a few notable—and really only occasional—exceptions your correspondent is not beguiled by Adelaide Hills Pinot. So there’s no better use that I can think of for Hills nero than to partner it in a complimentary and supporting role to Nebbiolo in rosato. Or in a méthode, of course, and many delicous examples of these abound (see here for my review of the latest divine ’22 Daosa Rosé). The ’23 Longview rosato was in the ratio of 70:30 of nebb to nero as I recall it, while the ’24 ups the nebb ante higher still. I’ll let you know when I’ve tasted the ’24. And FYI, the ’23 only earned a bronze at the Melbourne show of ’23. A bit too chewy for some probably.
Unless otherwise indicated all wines reviewed on MY site have been assessed in half-blind, peer-group line-ups. You’ll observe that I publish two ratings for each wine reviewed. The score out of 100 (e) is my ‘empiric’ evaluation, based on the palate memory filing cabinet I’ve accumulated having rigorously tasted many thousands of wines over several decades. The second score out of 10 is my ‘hedonic’ (h) score, which is much more personal, and indicates how much I ‘like’ a wine. I believe that the two marking propositions provide a more nuanced approach to ‘rating’ wine. You’ll find detail about the distinction of my hedonic x empiric evaluations here. Any emojis I append should be self-explanatory. 😀
Has a sort of rock pool oyster brininess. Meyer lemon peel, crunchy pear rocket, serrano jamon and Section 28 Monforte, a most delicious semi-hard artisan cheese from the Adelaide Hills which I’ve been much enjoying of late. (Okay I’m chucking this in so I can provide you with a link.) So: most complex in an understated way. Faded tangerine and Meyer lemon in the mouth also and has real delicacy, yet chew too; pithy, mouthwatering, translucent of texture. That primal thing. Limpid. If tastes can be so. So not super-flavoured, but great shapes and structure. 94(95)/100 (e) - 9/10 (h) - 😋😋 - $52 cellar direct.
The
Mown grassy and tangerine smelling — crisp golden delicious also. Edgy, juicy, tangy. And tasting too, with mouthwatering passionfruit and tangerine fruit intensity, before a lingering, pink salty, lime peel finish. Packed with flavour and juicy, ‘sweet’ acidity. A Sauvignon blast. 92/100 (e) - 8/10 (h) - 😋😋 - $32 cellar direct.
Vince Blefari. It is in Piccadilly.
Some woodsy leaf in here, plus carbon paper. Bitter orange peel. Some digestive wheaten biscuit. A sniff of violet. Builds soused black cherry hazel nuttiness as sits and opens. Has tight tannins and a tweak of anise which is most alluring. Has bitter peel tanginess and nourishing rye crustiness. If you’re a fan of Langhe Nebb, or fine local examples of same cultivar from the Hills, then this will appeal to you. 94(95)/100 (e) - 9/10 (h) - 😋😋 - $55 cellar direct. Will be even more complex in a few more years I reckon.
Deep luscious smelling, cut with warm, terra cotta tile dustiness, dried rose florals, blueberry crumble, and roast-meaty end-bits at the edges. Has complexity this and gets better in the glass. Deep, dusty chewy on the palate with gritty grainy — Italianate — tannins, and integrated sea spray acidity. There's dehydrated peel, mouth-sucking oyster shell chewiness, before it mellows, getting blueberry crumble digestive crust — and coffee crema. Just the teeniest bit saggy finishing is my only (slight) grumble. But I do much admire the crumble. 92(93)/100 (e) - 8/10 (h) - 😋😋 - $42 cellar direct.
Peach stone juice — of the yellow-skinned kind — bruised orange and a durian— er—‘offness’ (in a complexing, positive way). Old Turkish Delight, and pistachio cream as it warms and opens. A sniff of my local Asian grocer— Yue Kee—as rain hits the pavement. Skinsy papaya on the palate, baked apple textured, and some creamy prosciutto fat. So: sweet-sapid, while the acid is a melty, briny blast mingled among quince skin chew. A brulée, poached tarte tatin thing too. This is a bit of fun. 91/100 (e) - 8/10 (h) - 😋 - $28 cellar direct.
Component not a feature.
Has a fab tang to it, even not long out of 8º fridge. Builds dried pineapple: so a Pecorino! (Er, incorrect Tw, as I learned at the reveal, but there were a few in the line-up: please see explanatory note below*). Pear bosc skin and mizuna leaf as it sits and opens. Nourishing, sapid sweet aromatics. Has zing, chew, and power on the palate in equal delicious measures. There’s ruby grapefruit rind and some compressed pineapple. A perception of glutamate too, and there’s much to suck on and consider through the middle. Not so much a creaminess, more a pistachio, fine sea salt pastryness. Plus extreme moreishness. 94(95)/100 (e) - 9/10 (h) - 😋😋 - $35 cellar direct.
This has deep tanginess: ruby grapefruit peel and small cell juice. And then a caneberry jelly thing pops up too. Gets better and better as it sits (after thirty minutes or so). There’s gentle pistachio shell and I do appreciate the restraint here. There’s also some Parma salami-ness about it too. Has a deep concentrated core—serious fruit power on show here—and it gets tangier on the palate as it opens up. Finishes with mashed, iced cane berry pips. 94/100 (e) - 8/10 (h) - 😋😋 - $33 cellar direct. Perhaps not quite as sublime as the ’22, but still a stimulating and satisfying introduction to this variety for those who’ve yet to dare.
The first Australian Pecorino I tasted was—unsurprisingly—the Chalmers Project 2018, made with grapes grown on the family’s mother rows at Merbein on the south side of the Murray River, just west of Mildura. I write ‘unsurprisingly’ as, for those who don’t know the story, Chalmers Nurseries selected two clones (VCR 417 and VCR 485) of this intriguing white variety from the Marche for importation to Australia in 2011, along with many other divine Italian cultivars in the decade or so prior. The cuttings were released from quarantine in 2015.
Which is remarkable when you consider that plantings of Pecorino were virtually non-existent in its homeland as recently as the early 1980s. In his absolutely remarkable—truly peerless—work, Native Wine Grapes of Italy (University of California Press, 2014), Ian d’Agata informs us that Cocci Grifoni’s “Colle Vecchio” Pecorino was first released in 1990 and that for ten years “he was the sole producer to commercialise the wine…”.
Over the border in Abruzzo Luigi Cataldi Madonna was the first Italian winegrower to label a wine as Pecorino with the release of his 1996 vintage. There is an an excellent piece about this gifted eccentric titled, The Nutty Professor of Pecorino, by Robert Camuto on the Wine Spectator website.
For additional Pecorino detail you’ll find a Chalmers Nursery data sheet to download here. And a complete listing of the grape varieties Chalmers is responsible for importing and propagating here.
Takes a little while to open up, but when it does gets nettle and icy, ruby grapefruit peel. Quite understated. Lemon thyme too. Pistachio. Dehydrated pear skin austere and chewy on the palate. Bracing and sea salty — has genuine varietal glutamatey-ness. Sapid, chewy, gathering dehydrated peach-pineapple as it warms. Might be too austere for some, but not for I. Although I’d recommend giving it a slop around to pick up some air and lose some chill. 91/100 (e) - 7(8)/10 (h) - 😋 - $35 cellar direct. If you join Mitolo’s wine club you’ll get 15% off and free shipping. Mix some with the ’22 Masso Monte would be my suggestion (I’ve not been paid to write this).
Some disclosure though: In February '24—I undertook some sensory work for Mitolo — a pre-bottling shiraz blends assessment, as well as a look at some current release wines. While I did taste this wine on the day my review above, and therefore the ratings I’ve attributed, derive from a small, ‘half-blind’ tasting of whites of a style that some might describe as ‘textural’.
The line-up also included a few rosatos (a.k.a. rosés)—tasted in Riedel Blind Blinds so sight unseen—which is my standard assessment practice. I really don’t care for how a wine looks, it is what it smells and tastes like that is most important to me. This may in part be due to my deuteranomoly, but I believe—know—that many a wine professional is significantly influenced—swayed in a qualitative direction—by how a wine looks in the glass: by its hue, density, clarity, or turbidity. I discuss this subject in more detail here.
Another reason why I don’t like to sight labels before tasting, is that the producer’s name may influence how positively or negatively—and all points in-between—I rate the wine. We all file away prejudices and preferences to some degree or others, whether conciously or not. And personally I enjoy the surpise of the reveal, hopefully discovering a wine that has exceeded its reputation or status.