Gram’s the Word

It was with an odd—even somewhat apprehensive—sensation that on the morning of the 12th September 2009 I poured sixteen current crop Clare rieslings into my Riedel Blind-Blind tasting glasses, and then muddled them using my ‘half-blind’ randomising system.

The wines on the table in front of me were in the cottage where I’d recently begun residing in the wee Clare Valley village of Watervale with Kerri Thompson. Kerri—KT—was a bit freaked out too. Primarily because there were a few of her wines rizzas from the Peglidis and Churinga vineyards in the line-up, and she knew I’d be forthright in my observations.

But she was also a bit perturbed at tasting from the manganese oxide-dyed crystal Riedel glassware. Winemakers, you see, and—for that matter—sommeliers, show judges, most wine writers, and others who evaluate vino professionally, generally like to sight the liquid for visual clues as to ‘condition’, age, even hints as to varietal identity. In blind wine qualification exams, options games and the like, this can prove especially helpful in assisting identification. I’m deuteranomalous and so my visual acuity—colour-wise—leaves me disadvantaged in this regard.

This bit of context I provide as, while me and Kerri—I’ve never addressed her as KT incidentally—have lived separate lives for a number of years, we’re still thankfully connected through our daughter Willa, whose initials appear on Kerri’s sublime 2022 Fortified Shiraz. This disclosure may be of interest if such considerations hold value for you when reading my reviews of Kerri’s wines.

Peglidis vineyard riesling destined for 2021 wines by KT Melva. Pic: Tim White

The 2009 Peglidis riesling, then released with the KT and The Falcon label, was my top wine of the tasting that morning, as it genuinely transpired. The Peglidis family's vineyard is a most special place in the revered Clare sub-region of Watervale. Its wine story began in 1970 when Paniotis ‘Bunny’ and Yvonne Peglidis established their farm. Their first riesling vines were planted in 1973.

Slightly below Peg that morning was the Crabtree Watervale Riesling of the same vintage. Which was good news all round, as Kerri was engaged in a consultative winemaking capacity at Crabtree back then.

There was another KT riesling in this same line-up, from the Churinga vineyard (now owned by Jim Barry and rebranded with the somewhat retirement home-sounding Watervale Gardens). I also pointed this highly at 94/100 just above the Pikes Traditionale and Jim Barry Watervale which are invariably two of the district's most consistent performers in any vintage year. This I mention to indicate that I don’t drop 95/100—that’s the accepted gold medal standard at an Australian wine show—on everything, even when one does learn of a wine’s origin. Although this is pretty much the norm now for Aussie wine influencers spruiking their reviews for renumeration.

Absent from that ’09 line-up was Kerri’s Melva which, as noted in my reviews here, is consistently—vintage-in and vintage-out—one of her most engaging expressions of Watervale riesling. Of any Clare riesling, full-stop. It is named for Kerri’s maternal grandmother, but more on this later.

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Bunny Peglidis winter pruning in 2010. He and Yvonne haved tended to every single one of these vines for fifty years.  Pic: Tim White

Sense of places

This wasn’t the first time I’d engaged in a serious wine tasting in the district of Clare, of course. One of the most significant ever—for the then, now and future history of quality wine in Australia to the mind and palate of this individual—took place on the 3rd October 2000 at the historic Leasingham winery, which was sadly shuttered by then owners Constellation a little under a decade later.

In typical, cynical wine corporate fashion, Constellation retained title to this lauded Clare producer's label even though the spirit had evaporated. Also deemed surplus to requirements were three fine vineyards—Rogers, Schobers and Provis—upon which much of Leasingham’s contemporary reputation was founded. And the people too, of course, who tended to vineyards, the winemaking facilities, the cellar door. The real owners who cared about the place.

But that exciting October morning I participated in a tasting of 2000 vintage Clare rieslings comparing those sealed under screw caps with the same producer’s wine’s under natural cork. This closure innovation went under the Clare Valley Winemakers Association’s internal working title of ‘The Stelvin Project’, which years later would be dubbed ‘The Australian Screwcap Initiative’ (at the Maurice O’Shea Award dinner in 2012).

But when you’re dropping in and out of a wine region, even if undertaking rigorous tastings—maybe even tasting some grapes as harvest time approaches, if you’re lucky—it can be hard to get an understanding of the lie and life of the land. To comprehend the subtleties and shifts that occur across a vineyard season; to get a meaningful appreciation of what shaped the liquid in the glass before you.

Remarkably though, the first time I ventured to the Peglidis vineyard with Kerri it dawned on me that I had actually been there previously. Of all the places in Clare that I’d have visited before! I can’t recall when, but I was in the company of Stephanie Toole who sourced grapes for her Mount Horrocks riesling from Peglidis at the time. It was meeting Bunny and Yvonne again that joined the dots (bad KT label pun intended—more on that later). It's the spirit of people, in addition to place, that makes something special.

Bunny and Yvonne, Brendan (Pudney), KT, and some of the lovingly-tended vines on the Peglidis vineyard in Watervale. Pic: Tim White

So it was that in 2010, as fruit was approaching maturity—that is post-veraison and with the picking clock slowly, then quickly, ticking down—that I became immersed in tasting grapes. Walking row after row and sharing speculative appraisal with the individual who would be transforming these tiny, miraculous orbs of juice, pips and skin, into wine.

Even with a great palate, and KT most certainly has one, assessing maturing wine grape berries—that is understanding what their developing flavours inform you about the wine that is yet to be created—is an acquired skill. One I certainly cannot claim to have mastered.

Across just one vineyard, such as Peglidis, the differences in flavour development will be significant. They transition as you move north to south; as the soil type, and topsoil depth subtly changes beneath your feet. Air temperature and air movement plays a profound role also. Even on warm to hot days on a gentle open slope there’ll be cooler parts in the vineyard.

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Across the road at Churinga—as it was then named—it got even more complicated because of the property’s varied topography. The old vine Grenache block on the western side of the vineyard that one can see from the Main North Road was invariably at a different state of maturity—tasted on the same morning—to the other old block over the hill on the far side of the vineyard on a gentle slope to the east.

So too the Riesling across the property which ranged from young vine north facing blocks to the old contour vines on the eastern side where the vineyard was also bordered by woodland to the north.

When tasting the black grapes in 2010 I remember thinking that I ’sort of' got how to assess Shiraz and Grenache reasonably well. But Churinga's Cabernet Sauvignon grape berry qualities completely eluded me, as much as I’ve adored the finished article (Kerri’s ’09 Churinga is one of my favourite ever Clare Valley cabernets).

But Kerri, of course, got the timing of harvest absolutely right—on taste alone—and I remember marvelling at the finished wine when I happened upon it as a finished, bottled wine in one of my ‘half-blind’ tastings almost two years later . It was—presumably still will be—beautifully flavoured and structured, and also emphatically Clare Cabernet Sauvignon in the authentic, what the land delivers, sense (see also my review of the Castine vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon on this page).

Peglidis riesling soon to be hand-picked and transformed to wine. Pic: Tim White

Titles and accolades

Now, Kerri has been dubbed ‘Australia’s Riesling queen’ by a number of titles over the years including by the Halliday Wine Companion Magazine. She’s never referred to herself as such, of course, and is a somewhat embarassed by the reference if someone else does. But her finest reds from Clare are also right there with her top rizzas I reckon, and she’s garnered a good few Australian wine show trophy crowns for reds she’s presided over along the way: at Leasingham, Crabtree, and now Skillogalee—where she leads the winemaking team.

And speaking of trophies, and before we pop back over the road to Peglidis to talk of Melva; while researching this piece I uncovered a column I’d written for The Australian Financial Review published in October 2009 about the Clare community and the Leasingham closure (of the winery, not ‘The Stelvin Project). I’d forgotten all about it, but it’s still up there for all to access on the AFR website. Should you wish to subscribe.

My column opened with this: “The media release arrived on September 11 announcing the 2005 Leasingham Classic Clare Riesling had won not only the trophy for the best riesling at the Royal Perth Wine Show, but also the prize for best white, and best wine of show overall - three trophies in all.”

What I did not mention in my column back then—as it would have presented a reasonable conflict of interest—is that the winemaker responsible for creating this wine was one Kerri Thompson. But even if you had read that Constellation media release, you would not have known this significant detail anyway, as they made no mention of it. So here it is now, out there for the record. If you have a bottle tucked away it should still be in fine condition. It was, of course, sealed under screwcap. 

Wine springs maternal

But back to Peglidis today where the fruit—the grapes—for Kerri’s Melva Wild-Fermented Riesling are grown. The selection differs from the KT single vineyard Peglidis and is usually taken from the southern-most plantings (as I recall it). Just below the riesling selected for the Peglidis single vineyard wine. These vines lie closest to Bunny and Yvonne’s little grove of olives and fruit trees. 

These snips aren’t props: KT in the Peglidis house block picking with the ’21 harvest crew. As she does every vintage. Pic: Tim White

There's a quince tree growing there too whose fruit I once used as vital complimentary component in a lamb tagine (although made in a Staub La Cocotte cast-iron pot, not an authentic clay tagine). The original recipe which I’ve modified a bit, especially as it relates to the timing and addition of some components, is this one sourced from delicious magazine.

With quinces currently in season I’ve made it once again with a boned-out shoulder of  Wunderbar lamb, maintaining a regional and familial theme (read on). It is the perfect dish to feast upon with some KT ’22 Grenache.

As mentioned above, in my blind tastings of Clare riesling over the years Melva has routinely been one of my top picks in any given vintage. Only once—and I’ve tasted Melva back as far as 2008—have I pointed it below an Australian Wine Show silver medal level. The run of vintages from ’21 is most special indeed with every one pointed by me at high silver or gold level (and I’ve judged a few in my time—shows I mean).

Melva is entirely barrel—old oak barrel—fermented and there’s not really a class in the Clare Valley Wine Show to accomodate such a non-traditional Australia style of Riesling. But the wines by KT Peglidis single vineyard riesling was only one of two gold medals awarded in the three-wine vertical Wine of Provenance class at last year’s show. So it was in the  taste-off for the Br. John May Perpetual Trophy, although the award was decided in favour of the Barry family's Clos Clare—which is part of the famed Florita vineyard just south of Watervale.

This result speaks heaps of the scintillating quality of Bunny and Yvonne’s divine wine grapes, of course, and the skill of those that guide it to wine. The Peglidis vineyard is about the same distance north of Watervale as Florita is south.

KT with Melva 2017 fermenting in barrel. Pic: Tim White

Unlike the Peglidis single vineyard riesling which is tank-fermented in stainless steel the Melva, as mentioned above, goes directly to old oak barrels where each individual ferment ticks along at its own pace. A selection of these barrels are then blended and bottled.

The label design takes inspiration from the work of Marion Hall Best, but most importantly the name is inspired by Kerri’s maternal grandma, Melva. Willa’s grandmother, Coralie—a.k.a. Cozza—or ‘Gram', as Willa fondly calls her—tells me that Melva (Kermode, nee. Heinrich) was born in the Mid North at Burra Hospital and lived on the family farm, Manofield, at Black Springs until she got married.

Hence the Wunderbar reference above. Wunderbar free-range lamb, you see, is farmed by the Heinrich family at Black Springs, just half an hour west of the KT cellar door in Auburn. The Heinrichs are now five generations long on this land. So family aligning and more dots connected.

Coda to Rosa

Connecting a few more dots, I may as well also disclose that I had a good deal to do with the design of the KT Peglidis single vineyard label. This detail I’d intended to append in a more lengthy footnote below, but by now I’m sure you’ve got the picture. The label’s beginnings were about a month before I took the pics of Bunny pruning above.

I remember when I first presented a bottle to my friend Gerald Diffey at Gerald’s Bar: ‘Huffer!’, he exclaimed immediately. This because the New Zealand street and snow wear label used to feature a three dots motif, and in my more youthful days these were my branded T-shirts of choice. The KT wines typeface is set in Keedy Sans, the same as that for Gerald’s Bar.

Again truthfully, I didn’t sight any of the labels of the wines reviewed on this page at the time of tasting. They were all assessed in Riedel Blind Blinds, excepting the 2022 Grenache which was tasted in a line-up at the Gilbert Street Hotel. I’d no idea one of Kerri’s wines was included, and it was poured in regular transparent stemware—which was a somewhat odd experience for me.

Not that how the wine looked in the glass had much of an influence, because of my aforementioned deuteranomoly: that is red-green colour blindness. There’s an excellent Wikipedia treatment about this impairment here. And the Ishihara colour test plate they use provides the perfect example of it as it pertains to my colour vision (I—just about—see it as 21).

This I mention as I encounter puzzlement about deuteranomolousness on an almost weekly basis while working on the deli at Adelaide’s Finest Frewville. Especially when it comes to dealing with ‘Rainbow Olives’. I also now recall I once bought a Huffer tee thinking it was grey, but was later made aware that it was pink. Not that I minded.

Remembering pink, if not ever being able to recognise it, the 2015 wines by KT Rosa springs to colour blind mind. Walking a vineyard that year, checking grape maturity at the beginning of harvest, Kerri was stung by a wasp. Now snakes and spiders are routine Mid North high summer harvest creatures which one may encounter in both vineyard and winery, but wasps aren’t usually in the equation.

Nonetheless, Kerri had an extremely bad reaction to it, which necessitated medical treatment in Adelaide. This at the exact same time as the first grapes were being harvested for her Rosa.

So deuteranomolous me had to check off the rosa juices at the press: for colour. In the evening, under artificial light. I instructed the person operating the extremely expensive Bucher membrane press to hit the stop button when I thought it was the right shade of grey. That was the sum total of my involvement I have to add, aside from seeing the juice transferred safely to tank.

So it was with some excitement—and amusement on my part—when the 2015 wines by Rosa was listed at number six in the ‘Best of Best by Variety’ rosé section in the 2017 edition of the Halliday Wine Companion. With a score of 95 points. Sadly, there was no mention of its beautiful colour in the review accompanying this accolade.

The final disclosure here is that I chaired the Clare Valley in both 2013 and 2014. That first year Kerri decided not to enter any wines—conflicts of interest, and all that.

But I’ve revisited the results for the purposes of this story and have just realised that the ‘Best Exhibition Section Dry Riesling, 2011 Vintage and older’ trophy was awarded to the 2009 Crabtree Watervale Riesling. The very same wine I tasted in that line-up of sixteen rizzas in September of that vintage year.

Glenn Barry (bearded), and others from the Clare Valley Wine Show Committee, hosting the judges responsible for assaying the Wine of Provenance class—and much more besides—at the Pecora Nera (Black Sheep) in Burra. Pic: Tim White

Brendan Pudney, who managed all practical matters in the vineyard and winery for Crabtree back then—and is now KT’s and Skillogalee’s production manager—was awarded the viticulturist trophy.

Now as the show chair I did not judge the riesling classes, of course, but the golds and high silver medals would have certainly had it put in front of me for scrutiny. I do, however, remember being asked to make the call on the Wine of Provenance Trophy, which is awarded to three different vintages of the same producers single vineyard wine.

It came down in the end to a pair of delightful riesling vintage trios—of undisclosed origin of course—which had been selected by the judges. I’d find out at the conclusion of judging that the group I singled out was from—drum roll please—Crabtree Watervale Wines.

I’d also learn that the other trio over which I’d been ruminating was of Knappstein’s Hand-Picked Riesling. This Glenn Barry, then chief winemaker of Knappstein Wines and chair of the wine show committee, would also inform me of at proceeding’s close. Understandably, he had his fingers crossed on the sidelines hoping I’d lean the other way, and when the result was confirmed in Crabtree’s favour had a gentle dig—in good spirit—about me having a 'cellar palate’. Or something  similar.

I’ve never made any written reference to this previously. So mum too is also the word.

wines by KT, 20 Main North Road, Auburn SA 5451

Written and published by Tim White, May/June 2026