$25; 12% alcohol;
screw cap; 94+ points
Ewie gooey. Here we go. I can't recall any Australian
rosé like this.
Zweigelt, for Bacchus' sake! Fritz Zweigelt crossed
Blaufränkisch with St. Laurent in Australia in 1922 to produce this red grape,
and now it's in Niagara, British Columbia, Czech Republic and Slovakia as well
as being Austria's main red. True to their far-sighted pioneering style Larry Jacobs
and Marc Dobson have introduced it to Australia via their remarkable vineyard
at Hahndorf in the Adelaide Hills.
Ferment started in old barriques with wild yeasts and
completed in stainless steel with some lees stirring for a few weeks. Three
hours on skins gave it all the colour and skin tannin it needed. It's been made
with the utmost sensitivity and gastronomic intelligence, producing just a wee
hint of pheasant-eye hue and the faintest whiff of oak.
It also has that nose-tickling reek of dusty countryside
in the summer.
But it smells mainly like sabayon or a particularly
delicate custard, maybe even junket. It's creamy, and I would guess laden with
more natural vanilloids than any wine that comes immediately to mind, short of
sauternes. Think jackfruit flesh or ripe pineapple ... just a tiny squeeze. And
to confuse you, it has the meekest insinuation of very fine fish stock,
reminding me of the amazing white wines Stephen Hickinbotham made at Anakie
near Geelong in the early 'eighties. With fastidious cool-climate viticulture
and obsessive winemaking, all these aromas come completely naturally, if very
rarely.
Flavour follows suit: maybe add a touch of plantain. It's
soothingly creamy and long, with a shy ripple of phenolic tannin and some
persistent utterly natural acid to draw the tail out in the most tantalising
manner.
It's beautiful.
If you like your rosé all sweet and pink and raspberry,
forget this wine. If you've had the best bone-dry Provence ones with a fair
dinkum bouillabaise overlooking the harbour in Marseilles you can start
imagining in this general direction, but this is better: more refined and
elegant.
Smoked salmon, capers and chêvre.
As I said: ewie gooey. Just don't chill it too hard. Ten
minutes in the ice bucket is ample.
Hahndorf Hill
Winery Blueblood Adelaide Hills Blaufränkisch 2013
$40; 14% alcohol;
screw cap; 94+ points
Another Austrian variety unique to this remarkable estate
until very recently - they've had it for twenty years - Blaufränkisch often
reminds me of a Burgundian Pinot crossed with a old-vine Clare Shiraz.
As usual with the annual offerings from HHW, the bouquet
starts out with that ozone prickle of blackberry bushes that have just been
smacked by lightning. The further in you go, you get cool beetrooty borscht with
a swirl of yoghurt and the pickling juice from a jar of black kalamata. And
that distinctive Hahndorf Hill prickle of podsolic dirt and grapeshot ironstone
in the heat of summer.
Taste it? I can't help gulping great greedy schlücks of
it. In the mouth, those savoury aromatics take a fruity turn, like a big bowl
of red and black fruits and berries soused in kirsch and lemon juice, sprinkled
with caster sugar and served around a chocolate crème brûlée.
It's a ride very few wines will give you.
Food? Forget it. This is a vinous circus. Just sit back and relish.
If you must, try it with borscht, or that dessert I mention above, or
maybe a lightly smoked salmon or tuna steak broiled with onion, tarragon and
capers and served pink. Which is a dish nearly damned impossible to cook
without overcooking.
Hahndorf Hill is now locked in as one of that small handful of
Australian wineries which never misses grovelling reviews from this sceptical
greedy guts. Both these wines are way out there pioneering excitements that
flip the finger to the rote copycat stuff the vast majority of Australian
winers ever dream of attempting. The wines these blokes make are not merely
adventurous, but fine-tuned, forensically-planned with great patience and
investment and brilliant in their success.
Go visit!
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