Monthly Archives: December 2013

Puglia’s Loveable Rogue

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The original Fatalone would’ve had no need for a matchmaker. But without the help of the boys at Boccaccio Cellars we might never have hooked up. I’d asked for an Italian wildcard to bring to a blind tasting. This is what I got.
It divided opinion among the group and there was no denying the rough edges. But it had depth, breadth and a strong foreign accent. I bought some more at the next opportunity and drank it with friends and lasagne. It more than repaid my loyalty.
The grape is Primitivo, which tends to travel under the pseudonym Zinfandel, and this is from its heartland in Puglia, southern Italy. As you’d expect it heats up down there, though these grapes come from a vineyard at an altitude of 365 metres in Gioia del Colle. There’s a line in Hugh Johnson’s Wine Companion that makes you wonder whether the great British wine writer ever had a dalliance with this particular drop. “The Primitivo gives a pretty brutal red in these hot hills,” writes Hugh. “With age it becomes more politely overwhelming.”
Fifth-generation winemaker Pasquale Petrera grows the fruit organically and with no irrigation, ferments it with indigenous yeasts and allows malolactic fermentation to occur naturally. It’s released after 12 months in stainless steel tanks, 12 months in 750-litre Slavonic oak and six months in bottle, though obviously the vintage I tried has had a lot more time to develop. And it’s a fair bet it would have heard a few tunes over that time, given Petrera’s penchant for ageing wine to music.
But my favourite insight into this wine comes from a little card draped over the bottle’s neck, the kind of snippet that makes you bond with the liquid inside. It’s named after second-generation winemaker Filippo Petrera – aka Il Fatalone, which apparently translates to “irresistible heartbreaker”. He lived to the age of 98, washing down his breakfast each morning with half a litre of Primitivo and half a litre of milk.
Not convinced I’d break hearts on that diet. Smash a few milk jugs, for sure.
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Fatalone Primitivo Riserva 2005 Gioia del Colle DOC, Puglia, Italy

Medium to deep ruby, brick-orange at the rim. A lot going on from first sniff: caramelised orange, balsamic, wood smoke, cedar, clove, ripe black plums. The palate has complexity to match the nose, combining fresh black cherry, stewed plums, candied orange peel and liquorice. The tannins are abundant but ripe, savoury and tamed by time. It finishes with a warm porty feel, chewy plum pudding, roast nuts, spice and tang. It’s a touch ungainly but lively, rangy and very enjoyable. Drink now to 2020.

Costs $30 at Boccaccio Cellars in Melbourne – Alcohol 15% – Tasted 29/07/13

The Sem But Different

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It reminded me of the one about London and the streets there being paved with gold. ‘I’m not falling for that one again,’ I thought. But then it turned out to be true: Clare Valley really did have a Riesling trail! You can even taken a short detour from this path of enlightenment to Polish Hill River and drink even more Riesling. And they leave it to you to work out how good the Cabernet and Shiraz are.
But if the Cab and Shiraz are well-kept secrets, Semillon is the Treadstone of Clare. You don’t need a bunch of fake passports and black belt in kali to get to the truth, though. Twenty bucks and an open mind will do it.
It was Tim Adams that gave me my initial taste on that first visit to Clare long ago. I’ve since enjoyed this same wine with several years of age, when it’s deep golden green, toasty, waxy and mellow lemony. Winemaker Brett Schutz says this is the drop he reaches for at the end of a hot day’s work in the Clare summer. “A lot of people who come to the cellar door are amazed by it,” he tells me.
The reasons for their amazement, I suspect, are threefold. One: Semillon. Once the most widely planted quality white-wine grape in the world, these days it often has to settle for the role of Tweedledum to Sauvignon Blanc’s Tweedledee. Two: Clare. People who know Semillon as a varietal table wine will be familiar know the piercing youngsters and glorious aged numbers from the Hunter Valley. At a pinch they may know it in the Barossa, where the wonderful Peter Lehmann Margaret Semillon flies the flag. But not Clare. And what was the third reason again? Oh yes, this wine is bloody good.
Oak is part of the story here, and also in the fine renditions at Mitchell and Mount Horrocks. At Tim Adams, fruit sourced from the Watervale sub-region is given about 12 hours’ skin contact before barrel fermentation in new French hogsheads. It doesn’t go through malolactic fermentation and sits on lees for about nine months. In 2010, about 65% of the final blend was fermented and aged in barrel, with the rest in stainless steel to retain lift and freshness. Once bottled, it’s left for up to 24 months before release to soften the acid and let everything come together.
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Tim Adams Semillon 2010 Clare Valley

Gleaming medium lemon in colour, with the slightest tinge of green. The nose shows freshly squeezed lemon, pastry, roast nuts and cream, plus a touch of toast and smokiness. On the palate, it gives an initial impression of being blunt and even broad but tapers quickly as puckering lemon, quince and lime pith spear their way through the mouth, with cream and nutty characters folded through. It’s a touch more than medium bodied, with texture and some grip. Refreshing, cleansing acidity takes hold from the mid-palate and leads to a finish that is long and clean, with a lemon soufflé afterthought. Drink with crayfish risotto.

RRP $23 – Alcohol 13% – Tasted 11/12/13

Suck A Punch Pet Nat

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I couldn’t keep this bottled up. Not at this time of year.
The Friends of Punch Rurale Chardonnay 2012 is a social beast, a sparkler to celebrate – but not one that demands pomp and ceremony. Not a cheers-and-small-talk bubbles, more a sit-down-and-stay-a-while affair. “It’s not supposed to be a formal wine; it’s supposed to be a delicious wine,” says James Lance, as if reading my mind.
James and wife Claire kicked off Punch on 1 January 2005. That’s when they started leasing Lance’s Vineyard and Winery in the Yarra Valley from James’ parents, David and Catherine, who founded renowned Pinot and Chardonnay producer Diamond Valley there back in 1976.
Classic Yarra Valley Pinot, Chardonnay and Cabernet from Lance’s Vineyard remain Punch’s bread and butter. But from the ashes of the Black Saturday bushfires, which destroyed the 2009 crop, rose a phoenix or two from further afield. Friends wrote to ask what they could do to help. The response: Sell us some grapes.
Hence the Friends of Punch range which includes this unusual beauty, the fruit for which came from Beechworth’s celebrated Warner Vineyard. It’s a pétillant naturel wine – “pet nat” to the cool cats – made using the méthode rurale (aka méthode ancestrale), described by James as “the oldest, simplest, and purest way to make a sparkling wine”. In this case, it meant fermenting Chardonnay juice most of the way to dryness (leaving about 18g/l residual sugar) in stainless steel before transferring to bottle to complete the fermentation, with the resulting CO2 trapped for a natural fizz. The wine spent about 18 months on yeast lees, so what you’re left with is a bottle-conditioned sparkling wine – a slightly turbid, rustic thing that’ll throw a crust. But when all’s said and done, it merits two important and aimed-for epithets: “delicious” and “wine”.
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Friends of Punch Rurale Chardonnay 2012 Beechworth, Victoria

Cloudy straw in colour, the nose bears the expected stamp of its yeasty upbringing but there’s plenty of orchard fruit and biscuit enticing you to tuck in. The bead is creamy and relatively coarse and the texture across the palate thickish, though the wine has intensity and depth without being the least bit lumbering. Good fizz livens up the gorgeous Chardonnay fruit, apples and peach wrapped in brioche, culminating in an apple danish send-off. Drink with hog roast or scallops with pancetta.

Costs $22 from the Punch website – Alcohol 13% – Tasted 23/09/13 – Crown seal

Salo To The Angels

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Each night, I bury my love around you
You’re linked to my innocence

A little creepy? Don’t worry: nothing creepy about this wine. Intriguing, yes, but really this lyric from the Interpol track Say Hello to the Angels serves only to provide a clever-looking headline. If you read this far, no harm done. If you listen to the song – and, even better, drink this wine – much good done.
We had this Chardonnay at a blind tasting for friends curated by Cameron Hogarth of Chateau Yering. Cam chose as his theme leftfield acts by Yarra Valley winemakers, and this was my white of the night.
One half of Salo is Steve Flamsteed, who can’t put a foot wrong at Innocent Bystander. And don’t even get me started on Giant Steps; if the feeling ever sets in that single-vineyard wines are a me-too exercise, return to these. The sites have something to say and are beautifully articulate. In fact the Applejack Vineyard Pinot Noir 2012 probably spoke to me more persuasively than any other Aussie red this year.
The other half is Dave Mackintosh, a winemaker of Kiwi/Scottish extraction who used to tread those Giant Steps. Mackintosh now spearheads Ar Fion, which translates as ‘our wine’ in Scottish Gaelic. He was last month a Young Gun of Wine finalist, in recognition of his vision and vino.
This wine was a joy to share. If you wanted to think about it, there was substance. But if you shut up and let go, it led you a merry dance. Great, gut-feel winemaking.
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Salo Chardonnay 2011 Yarra Valley

I found a lot of noise on the nose, with lemon curd and cashew wafting through a lees-and-banana funk. Then a clean and intense palate of apple, lemon, spicy melon, fleshy nectarine, nuts and marzipan. The mouthfeel is silky with generous curves, and it’s shot through with a beam of acid and minerality. Alive and dynamic, a wine to keep you guessing and drinking. Excellent Chardonnay.

Price: $40 from Barrique Wine Store, Healesville – Alcohol 13% – Tasted 04/11/13

Call That A Challenge?

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I’m writing this post on a Friday night with a glass of Mornington Peninsula Chardonnay to keep me company. I can’t say too much about how good it is, as I do casual work for its producer and don’t wish to stand accused of bias. It’s a bit like refusing to save a drowning man because you work for the company that makes the lifejackets, but there you have it.
Bonnezeaux Gonzo is in its infancy, and there are certain strategic points that have yet to be worked out. One of these is how to tackle the Chardonnay thing: does its brilliance need a bombshell or is it a question of attrition, a barrage of allusions to its wondrousness to leave readers dumbstruck?
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For now I’ll go for the latter, because it’s getting late and I’m onto my second glass. So here’s a little rave about some already raved-about wines, based on my notes from the recent Sommeliers Australia tasting of trophy-winning wines from the James Halliday Chardonnay Challenge at Vue de Monde.
We blind tasted three flights of four wines, all of which came top in their region. Discovery of the day for me appeared in the first bracket. It was the Ridgemill Estate WYP Chardonnay 2012 from the Granite Belt in Queensland. It has a floral, orange-blossom nose with grilled nuts, leading into a full-bodied palate of ripe peach, apricots and honey and finishing long with apricots and lemon slice.
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The second flight was all Victoria, and a strong showing it was, too. The most distinctive was the Galli Estate Pamela Chardonnay 2011 ($60) from Sunbury. This was taut, mineral and intense, with ruby grapefruit and green apple followed by a pure citrus and stone fruit finish. The acid was bracing, hard even, but it worked for me. I was also very taken by the Seville Estate Reserve Chardonnay 2012 (RRP for the 2011 was $33) from the Yarra Valley, which I liked even better than the previous vintage, which recently came up trumps at the Royal Melbourne Wine Awards. Full-bodied with nuttiness, cream, peach and grapefruit, what really took me here was the way it powered through the back palate. Such drive to back up that generosity.
But my favourite of this bracket was the A.Rodda Smiths Vineyard Chardonnay 2012 from Beechworth ($38). It all seemed to be on show from the first sniff – smoke, nuts, peach and lemon – and yet the palate was toned and restrained, with fresh, pure nectarine and citrus fruit meted out ahead of a finish that was creamy, long and moreish.
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Then the final flight, which featured Tyrrell’s Vat 47 Chardonnay 2009 ($70) from the Hunter Valley (for some dumb reason I’m always surprised by how much I love this wine – and the 2009 is looking super fresh), and the Xanadu Chardonnay 2010 ($35) from Margaret River (which seemed a bit obvious and plump at first, but in time showed depth and nuance). It also contained the Penfolds Reserve Bin 10A 2010 ($95) from the Adelaide Hills, a wine with quite a reputation – well won, I’d have to say. It had complexity in spades – spice and zing, a bit of grip and a gamut of pure-fruit aromas powerfully expressed. Gorgeous.
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The 10A was my preferred wine of the bracket, followed by the wine that came top in the Halliday Chardonnay Challenge: the Seppelt Drumborg Vineyard Chardonnay 2011 ($40) from Henty. It was flinty and fine-boned with a lovely lemon-lime acid line, great fruit purity, and – a feature of many of these wines – effortless drive. It was complete and utterly delicious.

The House At 15 Via Roma

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I asked reserved Barolo winemaker Gianni Canonica which of his peers he particularly admired. He instantly, effusively blurted out the name of his near neighbour, Bartolo Mascarello. So I popped next door to 15 Via Roma – no golden ticket, just a referral from my farm-stay host and a sense of expectation. And I left, Charlie Bucket-like, the scales fallen from my eyes. The vision, the fixity of purpose, the magic, all of it there under one roof. I drank in its whole rich history.
Bartolo Mascarello would doubtless have scorned such hyperbole. And it is, to be fair, quite inappropriate for such a thoroughly modest, dignified family operation. But sometimes you walk through a door and walk out changed. What looked like an unassuming village dwelling was really a microcosm of Barolo, a potted history of pioneer and traditionalist, with a 100-year timeline running from room to room.
A pioneer because it was pretty rare to grow, make and market your own wine in 1919, when Giulio Mascarello got the ball rolling. Back then he had just a corner of the property, the old cellar hewn from river rock, which is now crammed with dusty demijohns and racks of visitors’ gifts.
Giulio’s son Bartolo went on to cement the reputation of the winery in the second half of the twentieth century, and continued the process of buying up, bit by bit, the rest of the ‘house’. To give an idea of how gradual that expansion’s been, until 2006 – a year after the legendary Bartolo died – bottles had to be stacked between the casks because there was nowhere else to put them. Until 2008, every bottle was labelled by hand. That’s quite a feat for an operation that’s grown to some 30,000 bottles a year.
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It’s now run by Bartolo’s daughter, Maria Teresa, who follows the proud and patient methods of her forbears. The fruit – even for the Barbera, Dolcetto and Freisa – comes from four crus of Barolo: Cannubi, San Lorenzo and Rué in Barolo itself and Rocche dell’Annunziata in La Morra. Primary fermentation occurs using natural yeasts in concrete tanks dating back to the middle of the last century. Malolactic fermentation is left to occur spontaneously (which often means waiting until the spring following the harvest – a “high-wire act” because of the risk of spoilage; everything I tasted had come through unscathed). Wines are matured in large, Slavonian oak casks. The Dolcetto, Freisa and Langhe Nebbiolo get nine months, the Barbera two years and the Barolo three years. There’s no temperature control and all wines are unfined and unfiltered.
The estate doesn’t go down the single-site route for its Barolo. It never has. Instead, it coferments the fruit from all four crus. Everything that goes into the bucket on the day of picking has to be perfect, because that’s where the wine’s made. During its time on skins, the fruit is tasted first thing every morning, with everyone poised to leap into action if it’s deemed ready for the basket press.
If you’re looking for the Wonka factor, then I’m sorry: you were misled. This is no factory and there’s no mad-professor jiggery-pokery here. But Bartolo Mascarello was a singular character and this alchemist’s lair cast its spell on me.
During the last years of his life, a wheelchair-bound Bartolo spent a lot of time drawing. Some 500 pictures were found after his death, and these now appear on the labels of wines every bit as beautiful and faithful and this family’s vision.

Bartolo Mascarello Langhe Nebbiolo 2011 Langhe Nebbiolo DOC

I had the pleasure of drinking this with my wife upon returning to Australia. The Barolo is tucked away in the cellar, for as long as I can resist it. The Langhe Nebbiolo is relatively intense ruby in colour, and the nose perfumed and pronounced, with lifted red fruits, raspberry compote and strawberry-flavoured boiled sweets. Hovering around the fruit is fresh mint and earth, with liquorice beneath. The medium to light-bodied palate pulsates with raspberries, redcurrants and a hint of blood orange, with a notable mesh of fine tannins and fresh acid. The medium-length finish features earth, wild strawberries and rose petals. Elegant and perfumed but no shrinking violet, this has a delicate strength and poise. A delicious wine.

RRP €17 from the cellar – Alcohol 14.5% – Tasted 22/11/13

Unmasking Massolino

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There’s something about the impeccable presentation of this fourth-generation wine producer. I confess I can fall into casual inverse snobbery when it comes to labelling; anything too fussy and clean raises suspicion. I wonder whether the people behind it know what fun is, or whether they’re too busy being perfect.
The home of Massolino, perched in the shadow of Serralunga d’Alba’s 14th-century castle, reinforces that impression. It’s a polished presence, although there’s a bit of mess inside with renovations going on. But those are only going to make it even more perfect.
Then again, I made this appointment because on the handful of occasions I’d tried the wines, I’d enjoyed them. And this would prove no different, except that it also brought home quite how misleading the personality-free packaging is. Massolino has a certain precision about it, no doubt. But it’s a precision that zones in on characterful varieties and wonderful sites.
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The tone of the tasting was set by the meticulous preparation of our glasses. A sacrificial drop of Langhe Chardonnay 2012 was lovingly caressed around every inch of the bowl, then gently discarded to make way for the tasting measure. After the token – and very good – white, the glass-readying ritual was replayed for a lovely suite of reds: Dolcetto d’Alba 2012, a pair of spot-on Barberas and the Langhe Nebbiolo 2012. This latter in particular deserves so much more than this cursory mention.
But let’s allow the Barolo to do the talking here. We kicked off with the Barolo 2009 (14% alcohol; $89 from Prince Wine Store in Melbourne), made with Nebbiolo grapes from Serralunga vineyards lying between 320 to 360 metres up. It displayed raspberry and black cherry, mushroom, forest floor and plenty of grippy, earthy tannins that arrived late on the scene. The Barolo Margheria 2009 (fruit from a Serralunga vineyard at 340 metres; 14% alcohol and $150 at PWS) displayed balsamic and orangey tones on the nose, along with spice, tar and graphite to go with the red fruit. More time is needed for the tannin to fully integrate, but it had great freshness.
Then there was the Barolo Parafada 2009 (14% alcohol; $150 at PWS), an elegant wine from a south-facing vineyard with 55- to 60-year-old vines. It had pronounced perfume and better-integrated tannins, a little more body, smooth, plum and cherry fruit through the mid-palate and good length.
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Next came the Barolo Parussi 2009 (14% alcohol; $150 at PWS), a more recent acquisition for Massolino (the first release was 2007) and also the only one of these vineyards outside Serralunga – though only a short distance away, in Castiglione Falletto. A more complex bouquet this time, with sweet spice, leather, tobacco and mushroom. Its colour was also deeper and the tannins more masculine, with high acid taking it through to a long and savoury finish.
Last of all was a pair of wines from Massolino’s most-celebrated site: Vigna Rionda, on the winery’s doorstep. This is released at six years of age (three and a half in large Slavonian oak, two and a half in bottle). The Barolo Riserva Vigna Rionda 2007 (14% alcohol; $210 at PWS) had a pronounced nose of roses, red fruits, exotic spice, clove, mint and smoke, with roasted nuts coming in to join the wild strawberries and plums of the medium-bodied palate. Last of all, we were treated to the Barolo Vigna Rionda Dieci Anni 2000 (14% alcohol; $365 at PWS), a wine which was held back until 10 years after the harvest. It was pale garnet in colour, with a bouquet of game, leather, tobacco, spice, tar, liquorice and black fruits. Fleshy cherry, blackcurrant and blackberry came through beautifully on the palate, with well-integrated tannins and plenty of length.
It was always going to be a polished performance, but behind Massolino’s poker face lies plenty of personality. It was a privilege to see a bit more of it.

Just Went Vajral

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“The wine speaks very well, not me,” is the disarming claim from Milena Vaira. She’s wrong on one front – she’s an engaging hostess with very good English – but otherwise spot on: these are eloquent wines that you could listen to all day.
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In any case, Milena’s relieved from duty by her 28-year-old winemaker son Giuseppe, who’s clearly more at ease entertaining the masses. He’s just got back from showing his wines in Singapore, where Barolo-on-the-rocks in 40-degree heat was the order of the day. “It’s important to get out of your comfort zone,” he says.
I certainly get the impression throughout the tasting that this is a thoroughly adaptable clan, the kind that’ll run with a printing error that sticks a rogue ‘j’ in the family name. Giuseppe’s father Aldo set upon a life in wine despite vehement entreaties not to from those around him. His first vintage was 1972, uniformly written off as a stinker, maybe the toughest of the century. But he stuck at it.
This same man later took a shine to the art of Father Costantino Ruggeri. He wanted some stained-glass windows for the winery so the cellar hands would never lose sight of beauty as they went about their work. The talented monk declined Aldo’s request but received a case of wine as thanks for his consideration. Anyway, you guessed it: he changed his mind.
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And so to the wines. The winery is situated in Vergne, a couple of kilometres from Barolo village. The family has 60 hectares of vines, taking in Barolo, Novello and Serralunga d’Alba. Riesling is the token white here (floral and pure it is, too), while Pinot Noir (“a good teacher,” as Milena puts it) and Albarossa are the other outliers. Then you have the red quartet: Dolcetto, Barbera, Nebbiolo and Freisa, all showing finesse and sensitivity and – it must be said – thoroughly enjoyable drinking. Dolcetto and Barbera are given both a traditional and alternative rendition, while Nebbiolo comes in five guises. There’s a Langhe Nebbiolo and four Barolos: Albe (a blend of three vineyards); Bricco delle Viole (see below); and two wildly different single-vineyard wines bottled under the Luigi Baudana label, from the Baudana and Cerretta vineyards in Serralunga. I found the 2009 Baudana particularly exciting; a little unruly and way too young to drink but bursting with energy and personality.

G.D. Vajra Coste & Fossati Dolcetto 2011, Dolcetto d’Alba DOC, Italy

Named for the Barolo vineyards of Coste di Vergne and Fossati which provide the fruit, this is the big brother to the more conventional, light and fresh Dolcetto d’Alba. This one is aged for eight to 12 months in large oak casks.
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It’s medium ruby in colour, with a surprisingly subdued nose (for Dolcetto) of violets, red cherry and clove. It’s medium bodied, with a soft, slinky, almost creamy mouthfeel and lots of sweet, juicy damson, raspberry and cherry fruit plus a hint of menthol. The chalky tannins have a bit of grip, there’s enough acidity to give it drive and it finishes with a pleasing cherrystone tang.

RRP $52 from Enoteca Sileno in Melbourne – Alcohol 13.5% – Tasted 17/11/13

G.D. Vajra Barolo Bricco del Viole 2009, Barolo DOCG

You can see the sloping vineyard from the tasting room. Bricco del Viole takes its name from the violets exposed when the blanket of snow is peeled back each spring. A pretty image befitting this lovely Barolo, made from vines grown 400 metres up and aged 45 to 48 years old. It’s intensely perfumed, very reminiscent of top-notch Pinot Noir on the nose, with roses and violets joined by plums, earth and some underlying smokiness. It tastes like it smells, but the real winner here is the softness of the fruit on the palate – gentle but with real strength and length – allied to tannins that are almost velvety, finishing with some gentle spice.

RRP $175 from Enoteca Sileno or €55 direct from the cellar* – Alcohol 14.5% – Tasted 17/11/13