Chocks Away

When consultant winemaker, Doug Neal—of Gaffy and Neal, Altera Terra, and the Oceania representative of Nuits-St-Georges cooperage Sirugue (with Rick Kinzbrunner)—told me that Mitchelton’s cult white wine, Airstrip, was getting ready for a relaunch I got rather excited. Because revisiting my notes and reviews from way back when, it was a wine I’d written of—and reviewed—most positively and fondly. I was so looking forward to this latest iteration to land on my tongue.

I’ve affectionate memories about Mitchelton, in general. I once—fleetingly— treasured and possessed an edition of Tim Jones’s haunting etching, ‘In Woo’s Wood’, which adorns Mitchelton’s Print Series Shiraz label. But it was acquired for someone special as a present and is now long gone. But not the memory of it, nor of its recipient.

In Woo’s Wood, Tim Jones, 1994

Nor has the enlightening experience of tasting my first Barolo Chinato at the winery faded either, poured for me by one Randall Grahm, the creator of Californian cult ‘Rhone Ranger’ wine estate, Bonny Doon.

This ahead of dinner at Mitchelton following the tasting sessions of the 2002 Nagambie Lakes Rhone Varietals Seminar, which had taken place beside the billabongs at historic (nee. Chateau) Tahbilk Estate nearby. Grahm was the international guest speaker, and what an original and thought provoking one he was.

Pic: Tahbilk in 2002. Tim White

Back then the late Don Lewis presided over the creation of some quite lovely—and provocative—Mitchelton wines grown in the Central Victorian surrounds. He also established Tar and Roses with Narelle King upon departing Mitchelton and—again—challenged wine drinkers and thinkers assumptions about what styles of Australian wines they might embrace.

Days of Limes and Roses

Many of Lewis’s Mitchelton Blackwood Park Rieslings defied the prevailing style expectations of Australian riesling at the time also; and would do so now given the ‘Bickford’s Lime’ predictability of so many produced in SA (especially) today. His riesling frequently embraced a bit of grip, the occasional tweak of botrytis, and a lick of creaminess across the tongue. White wines that many—of both the somm and winemaker kind—would now categorise as ‘textural’, and speak to most positively.

So too, of course, were the Airstrip blends he captained. Of the 2000, shown at that Nagambie Lakes Rhone-fest to which I refer, I observed: “Exotic and viognier-like (the wines were masked) with some straw and smoke. Excellent peach and pear clarity; deep and chewy in the mouth with paste and straw and grip. Like this! Rich and exotic.” The T’Gallant and Clonakilla ’01s also impressed in the same flight.

As can be seen from my review above the ’24 Airstrip white is emphatically exotic and ‘textural’. And one which Lewis would have approved, I reckon.

Clearly I do, and thankfully so too did a number of younger wine list creators when I stuck it in front of them—blind—as I toured it around a few Adelaide drinking and dining establishments at the conclusion of my tasting it first time around. Presented alongside it were a brace of Stoney Rise Savagnins, a Roberts and McNally Lo Stesso Fiano, and the Giaconda Roussanne reviewed below—likewise all fine whites of a ‘textural’ kind.

It was a first encounter for most with this old-school—in the best sense—Airstrip white blend. And one they assured me they’d happily engage with again. There were particular raves for the swagger, intensity and complexity of the Giaconda too (from me also obviously).

Favouring Flavour

Curiously, there was no appreciation shown for the ’24 Airstrip by those responsible for judging class WBL002 (White Blends 2024 & Older), in which it was exhibited at the 2025 Melbourne Royal Wine Awards (nee. the Royal Melbourne Wine Show). It did not even medal, which leaves me completely non-plussed.

These styles can—do—polarise, but this is an excellent example of one and should therefore be evaluated and applauded as such. Hence my puzzlement. Was there too much flavour and too much texture for the judges? Because this is chock-a-block with flavour. Sad if this were so.

Wine in our country and elsewhere should always—needs to—be about diversity, variety, inclusion, as well as quality. It should not be a requirement that it has to fit in with wine show judging whims and trends of the times. Some wine styles are timeless, and follow their own trajectory.

Now, it could always be that this wine was perceived to possess a fault that I’m inured to. Otherwise, how could it not medal? I’ve now had the delightful opportunity of tasting this on three seperate occasions and—well—it’s enthralled me each time. Some judges I’ve tasted alongside do appear to find fault in flavour sometimes. Was this too much for them on this sighting?

And when in the show judging day—or week—was the class line-up in front of them? This I know from experience can have a significant effect on proceedings. And which classes preceded it? I’d love to have a gander at the class comments.

The judges did, however, award a silver to its stablemate, the 2024 Nagambie Wine Co. White Blend—a Riesling, Marsanne, Viognier, Gewürztraminer, and Roussanne combo, in the same class. Me too—awarding sliver equivalent points I mean—as you can see from my review here.

White with altitude

Encountering the Nagambie Wine Co. wine I was reminded 0f a delicious white that Don Lewis and Narelle King created many circumnavigations of the globe ago—the 2014 Trust Crystal Hill, also a multifarious white blend of Central Victorian origin. Remarkably (in many senses of the word) I only got around to tasting it in 2023. It had remained anonymous in a plain post pack at the bottom of a dwindling pile of tasting samples years after its arrival.

And how wonderful that it had been hidden and how sublime it was when it revealed itself. My notes: “Has a honeyed rambutan custard type of thing. Quince paste and poached. Crumbly pastry. In the mouth it's like dehydrated pineapple and faded rose. There's gentle chew, and it’s a bit burnt buttery, but not quite cracked.” What a delightful surprise.

This wine I also poured to a few might-be interested others. One also made an observation about quince. It was poured sight of label unseen. Now quince is not an aromatic descriptor I deploy routinely. Except in late autumn or mid-winter when they might be hanging around waiting to be poached. As is so now: coming towards the end of quince time I mean. It was the 13th July 2023 that I tasted the Crystal Hill.

On the back label was—in part—this detail: ‘'...we have blended Gewürztraminer for its musk, sweetness, Savagnin for its viscosity, Riesling for its citrus notes and acidity, as well as the deliciously textural Viognier.' I may have slightly incorrectly entered this into my database, but it was the gist. And then the creators described the aromatics locked under the screwcap: ‘lemon gold, with quince blossom...guava...feijoa…’

That Trust Crystal Hill ’14 would perhaps have been at its scintillating best a few years before I encountered it, but I’m so glad I did then. With this experience I’d suggest getting stuck in to the Nagambie White Blend over the next couple of years. The ’24 Airstrip is also one for the short to medium haul.

But it—the Airstrip—is a wine of such quality in its style—even if some others can't see it—that I’d happily place it before informed and special guests in an international White/Blanc ‘Rhône Blend’ line-up, which might also include the likes of Condrieu, Hermitage, Châteauneuf-du-Pape, plus the best of Californian and other New World Viognier, Roussanne and friends.

And trust me: It would soar.

Mitchelton Wines, 470 Mitchellstown Rd Nagambie Vic 3608

Written and published by Tim White, July 30th 2026