04 December 2015
MORE SMALL CHANGE AND ONE FINE FIANO
Ballandean Estate
Wines Granite Belt Messing About Fiano 2015
$30; 13.5% alcohol;
screw cap
Most Australian wine regions are suddenly planting Fiano,
the oily, fairly coarse grape of Sicily and Campania. They seem to think it
might help replace the Kiwi Savvy-B that smites them with deep paranoia and
jealousy; or the horrid clumsy hot-to-warm climate ocker Chardonnay they poured
on us for decades.
Fiano has whipped up a feverish evangelical mob around
McLaren Vale, which is bemusing were it not so risky: too few winemakers have
any idea how to make a fine wine from it. Like the most overt members of the
vast inbred Muscat family, it carries an array of monoterpenes which give it an
oily bouquet and feel, which can quickly grow a stale petroleum ugliness if
it's not planted in a cool enough spot or picked earlier than the majority of
South Australians are game to pick.
Grown away up in the cool at around 900 metres altitude
in the Granite Belt, this Queenslander comes from a winery first set up in a
tin shed by Salvatore Cardillo in 1932. It caught my nose because it's more
elegant than most of the presumptuous and fatuous southerners: beneath that
acrid, nose-tickling edge of smashed granite there's a little of that oil, but
not too much. Let's say there's just enough to comfort one.
It has a mild reek of rosehip jelly and some of the
nuttiness of good nougat. After twenty minutes in the ice bucket it reaches
that point where the acid and tannin dance daintily with that modest viscosity.
It's really damned hard to match a wine with the vinegar
and oil of a dressed salad. I can think of no better one than this: rocket and
lettuces and your favourite greens with some little cubes of fetta and dark
olives ... it'll even handle those bitter tannins of whitloof with some walnuts,
walnut oil and balsamic. Given its provenance, I should also say a proper
full-bore Caesar salad would work very well.
Small Change White
2015
$18 per bottle by
the dozen; 12.3% alcohol; screw cap
Australia's Verdelho cuttings came largely from the
Atlantic isle of Madiera, where it was used for a sweetish, high-acid,
long-living fortified until the vineyards were killed by the dreaded phylloxera. On the Iberian Peninsula it's
largely used for bucket-grade sweet white. At Langhorne Creek, it can make a
rather spritely elegant dry white a little after the style of Chenin blanc, if
not quite so steely in the acid division.
The Small Change crew wisely adds a tiny dollop of
Adelaide Hills Gewürztraminer to the Langhorne
Verdelho to give it that measured dash of homely oiliness and viscosity.
A little of the rose and musk of Gewürz adds interest and comfort to the peppery
cress-and-chicory verdancy of the Verdelho: the wine is wisely modest in
alcohol anyway.
This is a bright, cleverly-planned wine built for that
ice bucket in the sun, stack of salt'n'pepper squid right beside it. It's been
made for our climate and our seafood. In a sense, it's a better Fiano than most
of our Fiano: more clever, and quite a lot less spendy.
On the other hand, because it's not nearly so
green-grassy as the abovementioned Kiwi Savvy-B's, I think it's a much more satisfying
schlück than the vast majority of those catty buggers. Especially with that
squid.
Small Change Red
2015
$18 per bottle by
the dozen; 14% alcohol; screw cap
Another of the new wave - I like to think it's a wave
more than a ripple - of reds made from the Bordeaux varieties, this is a Clare Valley/Langhorne Creek assemblage of Merlot, Cabernet franc and Malbec.
From the start, it's obviously been planned and designed
like the Small Change White: intelligently built to a specific purpose: early,
inexpensive drinking without the duh factor. Moreover, the makers have achieved
that and more. There's no wavering from the clever template.
While its alcohol carries its prune and cherry with just
the right amount of viscosity, the pretty Cabernet franc brings an insinuation
of musky florals to the moody, mossy earth of the Merlot. Malbec brings its
serious finishing tannins and that hint of macho gunblue.
What we have is a lovely blend that's neither too junior
nor too condescending and serious. It's not gloopy but elegant and edgy in the
savoury sense. It'll handle your ordinary snacky mousetrap cheddar as well as
the Sunday roast, and makes a highly satisfying companion to pizza or pasta. In
fact, if you're thinking Italian, I could list many imports three and four
times this price which would do no more than a similar job.
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