Adelina Grenache 2009

Wendouree, Clare, South Australia. Grenache. 13%. Diam. $A39

This expressive and characterful wine is beautifully presented. Earthy and dusty when woken before showing raspberry and dried herbs (bay & thyme), menthol and eucalyptus. Crisp and juicy, a suggestion of confection and a corset of fine acids. With air and time it softens slightly and shows more creaminess, while the poised finish is fine and meaty. 92. Now - 2015+

The year's last stew?

Mid Spring and a slightly colder and wetter day and a sudden yearning for something soft and comforting.

Beef and lager stew. . .

Ingredients

• 1kg of beef shin, 1 inch cubes - seasoned with salt and pepper
• 2 small onions diced
• 3 Bay leaves
• 1 large leek - diced
• 1 large carrot - peeled and cut into batons
• 3 cloves of garlic - chopped
• 3 sprigs of thyme
• 1 small bottle of dark lager - 330mls
• 1 cup of water
  

How?

Heat a generous glug (60mls) of olive oil in a pan and brown the beef in batches and set aside. When done, cook the onions in the same pan and oil, till translucent. Now return the beef and add all the other ingredients. Bring to a simmer and cover. Cook for approx 2 hours, temporarily removing the meat and reducing the liquid down at the end if desired.

Dressed

Tyrrell's Johnno's Semillon 2010

Hunter Valley, NSW, Australia. Semillon. 11.5%. Screwcap. Approx $A40.

A beautiful 'old school' wine made from the grapes of 100 year old vines, basket pressed and finally presented in a riesling bottle. It's green and bright, sappy and electric. Cut grass and bruised herbs, lemon zest and wax. Unresolved and brimming. Exciting. In the mouth, a mineral edge, a suggestions of white pepper. A wine of superb clarity and vitality. 93+. Now - 2020.

Image: In the background Neil Perry's recipe for Stewed snapper with crazy water, which paired wonderfully with the wine.

Post script. November 12 and bottle 2 of 12 beautifully matched by the food of Kiri Japanese. . . I'm not sure old school is the correct term anymore. It seems to be more cheeky self assurance and confidence about your own place in history.

Some Young Punks Lust Collides 2008

McLaren Vale, South Australia. Mataro. 14.2%. Diam. Approx $A35

Ripe and rounded, it's hard not to be swept along by the sweetness, warmth and seductive curves. I was expecting a little bit of animal, but to begin it is all mulberries, vanilla and raisin. Much later if you can still pay attention, a whiff of spice and small-goods. Hedonistically sweet and lush, with vanilla and a curious combination of raisins and juicy cherry all waving for attention. I can see the charm, but*. . . 91. Now - 2013+

* I wish I was 15 years younger and not so fixed in my ideas.

Calibration

I've managed to avoid the vomit flavoured beans, and can report that the baby wipes hold no fear, they taste of rose petal and cleanliness, while the rotten egg reminds me more of durian. . .

Undressed

I'm quite sure this is the first branded bottle of wine I've bought that has been sold minus foil, cap or wax. Presumably cellar rats are less inclined to nibble on Diam. . . I was going to say it was unfinished, but obviously the intention is to take it one step closer to consummation and consumption.

Butterflied chicken with ricotta and garlic stuffing

The original Neil Perry recipe can be found here, on google books. It's quite wonderful, similar in technique to a previous attempt, but much richer and more indulgent with the addition of the ricotta and lemon juice. After only one attempt, this has now become the default recipe for the weekend Roast.

For the record - the stuffing I made consisted of:

2 tbs of finely chopped chives
2 tbs of finely chopped parsley
4 cloves of garlic finely chopped
2/3 small white onion finely diced
large pinch of salt flakes
125g butter - diced and brought to room temp
125g ricotta
grated zest of 1 lemon
juice of the same lemon

Mix all the above in a large bowl and then stuff under the intact skin of a butterflied chicken.

Heemskerk Riesling 2008

Tasmania. Riesling. 12.5%. Screwcap. Approx $A45

The 07 edition of this was curious and noteworthy. This is of the same mould, though perhaps with more edge and definition. Flint and sulphur, lime zest and grass. It reminds me of a glacial stream. Momentarily soft and homeopathically sweet before becoming zesty, searing and crunchy. Stony and mineral, I imagine myself sucking pebbles, while the intensity of the acids evokes a salted slice of lime. 93. Now - 2018+

Which way out?

With tongue firmly in cheek, I feel I'm well placed to comment on the future of wine making in Australia. I've just finished reading two books on Australian wine and I'm suffering from another one of my periodic nights of insomnia, brought on by one too many cups of coffee and the rattle of my own thoughts.

Though the climate is changing and picking dates are moving forward and vintages are growing generally shorter, the picture presented by Allen seems mostly positive - There's a cohort of biodynamic growers and vignerons who are marching to the right tune.

I wonder though about the middle, about the 80%, about the corporates who sell the most wine - Driven by return on capital (in theory) and market share and other such myopic metrics - What will become of them?

In Australia at least, and for Fosters specifically, where daily talk of demerger and take over grows louder, I wonder if share holder returns, impatient as they seem, and wine are mutually opposed concepts. Which is a shame if true, because it means that forever, centuries of wine making heritage will remain under pressure to perform financially. Though no longer a keen purchaser of wines in the Fosters stable (Penfolds, Seppelt, Wynns, Devils Lair, Coldstream Hills etc etc), I once was and still I have a soft spot and mostly positive memories. Which is why I can't sleep tonight.

Recently there was a minor ripple, when it was discovered that counterfeiters in China where selling a wine labeled as Benfolds. Phonetically similar and using the same cursive, presumably the concern was that people were being misled and duped. Of course for the last decade the bean counters have been expanding the Penfolds offering, filling down market niches and flooding the retail duopoly with sub $20 dollar quaffers, whose quality seems far removed from what was perhaps once envisaged by the founding fathers - though of course this does not dupe or mislead. Or does it?

I can see how it all happened. A glut of cheap grapes, some good, but much of it grown for the wrong reasons (tax driven schemes). It's not sustainable, but it's available and if not used, it poses a threat to your market share. Overnight, one becomes many and your competition is a cleanskin. . .

Perhaps it's naivety, though more likely sleep deprivation - but as drought, climate change and market forces remove the surplus supply of grapes, and a generation of new wine makers find their own mostly terroir driven niche. Fosters and the other large corporates will have to change again (sell? break up? simplify and cull brands?). I'm optimistic that it will be a change, that I as a consumer will be once again be able to support, but I have my doubts. . .

Spring harvest

I think in disposition I'm a gatherer. I seem to be able to recall the location of every fig tree I've ever seen, and if I close my eyes I can mentally walk though my favourite bottle shops, all around the world, picturing the location of specific bottles. . . more recently my attention, silkworm like, has been directed to mulberries, they are starting to drop their precious fruit and on sun exposed limbs, berries are becoming plump, lip staining and sweet.

Weekend D.I.Y

Hummus

Open, drain and rinse 2 x 400g tins of chick peas. Add to a blender along with 2 cloves of finely chopped garlic, a few pinches of salt, the juice of two medium lemons and four to five heaped tablespoons of tahini. Blend, taste and adjust before correcting the texture by adding water - perhaps quarter to half a cup and blending again. Garnish with chopped parsley, a sprinkle of paprika, a few whole chickpeas and olive oil.

Two books on Australian wine

There are of course many books on Australian wine, these two just happen to be the ones that caught my attention.

Like all compilations of tasting notes and scores, Oliver's is already dated on release. It's structure and timing make it less of a buyers guide and more an end of year report card with the make up of the classroom largely constant. It's one of the strengths and weaknesses of the book - the wines that are in tend to stay, while new producers are only occasionally included and then, only after several vintages. If you like and collect the wines that are within, this remains one the best available guides. Though I have become more fickle and wide ranging in taste, I still find that I'm drawn to his tasting notes which have a lovely precision and depth and always clearly started conviction.

Allen seems to be the polar opposite. There are no scores or drinking windows in any of his books, just palpable and infectious enthusiasm for his subject. He is a wonderful story teller and in his newest book The Future Makers, he tries to divine the path of wine growing in Australia. Though he seems mostly incapable to writing a bad word about anyone, he does gently stick the boot in the side of the multinationals and marketing departments and users of reverse osmosis. His book is perfectly timed, the Aussie dollar is close to parity with the greenback, which must be hurting our already damaged exports and it has been released before Jefford's planned book, which will presumably cover similar ground and reach similar conclusions (don't add acid or tannins). Those familiar with Allen will know he is a supporter the small and the biodynamic. He declares his hand on page 44:

Most of the growers and winemakers I have chosen to feature in this book share Moshos' view, and argue that extreme technology is completely at odds with the essence of what wine is - or what wine should be.

The rational part of my brain is yet, if ever, to come to terms with preparation 500 and its homeopathic siblings, but my credit card and palate have long since voted. Increasingly it is the people Allen writes about whose wine I drink.

Schloss Vollrads Auslese 2009

On a whim I happened to be in a supermarket, a craving for dried apricots. . . the first thing I spied was a crate full of green apples, I bought a trio and decided that perhaps I should try to find some pork cutlets for dinner. Which of course would mean I'd be drinking either Cider or Riesling, or both. . .

Old Mout Cidré (Nelson NZ. 4.5%. 330mls. $A5). The bottle mentions this is French in style. I can't see it. It's clean, clear and bright and the unkind might say a touch sterile and safe. Lively and squeaky, it's similar to the Montheith's which I'm very fond of.

Schloss Vollrads Auslese 2009 (Rheingau, Germany. Riesling. 7.5%. Vinolok. $A38 for a half). Dangerously drinkable, this will presumably reward patience. White flowers, slate and botrytis. This smells like a tooth ache. Beautiful intensity and acidity, a rolling but lingering wine of poise, concentration and brightness. Excellent. 95. Now - 2030.

Louis Jadot Beaujolais Villages Combe aux Jacques 2008

France. Gamay. 12.5%. Diam. Approx $A25.

Readily available and quite rewarding even if not worthy of deep and thorough introspection. Crimson and slippery, this is pert and crossed with banana phloem bundles. It's a neat trick, with each sip, my mouth is parched and dry and in need of more liquid refreshment. . .

Image: my half eaten piece of salmon. . .

10.10.10

Canberra, Australia. Riesling. 12.5%. Screwcap. Approx $A25.

A numerically auspicious day, which was spent doing perfectly mundane things. I worked a little, pulled some weeds from the lawn, bought some more cider and contemplated how to respond to the Queens Gambit. I made some orecchiette for dinner and oddly enough, I opened a bottle of wine. . .

Clonakilla Riesling 2010. Aromatically charged and not surprisingly green and electric. Lime juice and sherbet on the nose with fennel and flint and the lingering scent of citrus oil. Searing and intense in the mouth, it bristles with energy and sappiness. The line is lovely, but it quivers with youth and is still to settle. Excellent. 94. Now - 2020.

Image: Mail from the UK. Alistair (white) has pawns on d4 and c4. In response I have somewhat foolishly placed a black pawn on d5 and am undecided as to my second move. . . playing by snail mail it is likely one of us will development liver failure prior to the cessation of hostilities. . .

Ornellaia Le Serre Nuove 2007

Bolgheri, Tuscan coast, Italy. Cabernet blend. 14.5%. Cork. Approx $A75.

Suave and sophisticated, this is more a citizen of the New world than Tuscany. Cloaked in fine and seductive oak, there is no discernible accent and the body is tanned and muscled, but still with a layer of indulgent richness and fat. . . Full and bold it smells of crushed berries and bay leaf with a note of spice and faint vanilla. Ripe and for a passing, somewhat unflattering moment, there is a suggestion of raisins and Port. . . Seductive and soft in the mouth before an expansive seam of chalky, slightly sappy tannins. 92. Now - 2015+

Image: The cover of John Newton's beautifully illustrated book.

Etienne Dupont Cidre Bouché Brut de Normandie 2009

France. 5% alcohol. Cork. Approx $A20

Bronze and unfiltered, this smells of earth, sweat and toil. Mushrooms and blue vein cheese, it's quite complex and enticing. The mouse and animal scents are in still in check and the apple is a freshly bruised one. Lovely, relatively long and apparently creamy in the mouth (it's the CO2), this is one of the better ciders I've tried this year.

Image: organic cider, pictured with supermarket apples. . .

Savaterre Chardonnay 2008

Beechworth, Victoria, Australia. Chardonnay. 13.5%. Screwcap. Approx $A70.

Flinty and full, a bag of wine makers tricks, which I found very enjoyable. Struck match and stones, sulpur and peach skin, while in the mouth, marzipan, butterscotch and cream, offset by bitter peanut skins and citrus pith grip. Accomplished and textural. 93. Now - 2014.

Review: Penang House

Many thanks to the prolific Perth Food Engineers for reviewing this lovely and quite authentic Malaysian restaurant. On Mandurah's main strip, next to Subway, I found comfort and nourishment. There are seemingly odd flourishes, but they work. The gado gado has prawn crackers and potato chips, but in spite of this, it is a triumph. Equally, the popiah has no turnip, but it is clearly made with care and good intentions and the end result was appreciatively devoured. Other highlights included the Malaysian chicken curry (which came with broccoli) and the fried kway teow.

Review: M on the Point

Marco Polo Drive, Mandurah.

Situated under the Sebel is Mandurah's most cosmopolitan and aesthetically pleasing dining room. Beautifully lit and adorned with well placed succulent plants, this long and stylish room is easy to recommend. The service was faultless, possessing a discernible extra level of helpfulness, while the food was hearty and polished, if perhaps overcooked (my duck was overdone). Being Mandurah one of the waiters confessed that they have had to upsize the serves to appeal to the less adventurous, value seeking, local market. This is apparent in the size of the plates and the preference for boldness over subtlety. Still, after some notably uninspiring meals in Mandurah, I left M satisfied and pleased.

Memories old and new. . .

I spent the weekend in Mandurah. It was once a sleepy coastal town a few hours south of Perth. I remember my Father driving down in his red Holden Kingswood at the crack of dawn, just so we could catch a dozen manna crabs from the jetties off Mandurah Terrace. You could spot then in the shallow water, abundant and blue. . .

Fast forward 30 years and my thoughts are less sweet. My old memories are tainted with the idea of traffic and real estate development. Time then to purge some of the bitterness and revisit a childhood playground. . .

Despite my preformed ideas, I had fun. . . Not surprisingly, the crabs are mostly gone, though I did spot one scuttling around, near the Western shore, around the War Memorial and well away from the noisy crowds. The uneven distribution of people was one of the notable things about Mandurah. The new developments (the Ocean Marina and the Venetian canals) were deserted and hollow, while the more established areas, overflowing.

I bought along E. O Wilson's book - Anthill. Curious how what you read colours and informs your opinions, take this quote, which seems to surmise Mandurah's situation:

Before he made the trip north, Raff comforted himself with the hope that Harvard, while quantitatively different from Florida State University, would prove to be basically the same. Harvard, he thought, might be FSU on steroids. But he soon learned an important different truth. When any organized system, whether a university, a city, or any assembly of organisms themselves, reaches a large enough size and diverse enough a population, and has enough time to evolve, it also becomes quantitatively different. The reason is elementary: the greater the number of parts interacting with one another, the more the new phenomena that emerge within it, therefore the more surprises students and teachers encounter each day, and the stranger and the more interesting the world as a whole becomes. Exactly the same is true of ant colonies among different species. . .

Despite the rapidity of Mandurah population growth, it still lacks critical mass. The newly constructed Performing Arts Centre lays dormant (though next week there will be a one day only performance of Wombat Stew. . .) and beyond the hubbub of the main strip and the outer shopping centres, you get the impression that Mandurah is a town in need of more people.

Respect

presumably is predicated on achievement and consistency. Both, to some extent, are dependent on the whim and taste of the observer, which in turn suggests that respect is a fickle thing.

Do we still care for Rembrandt? Have his images become too dated, and are the browns too oppressive for anyone but art historians, curators and Old master enthusiasts? Has he become so inaccessible for the masses that he has lost his place? Clearly someone with a spray can, in Inglewood, thought they could update his appropriated image and make him more Daliesque.

I suspect the same points could be made when it comes to various iconic, but now unaffordable bottles of wine. Are they in danger of losing their place to the more appealing and affordable upstarts?

For the record, I'm still moved by Rembrandt and the odd bottle of iconic wine. . .