photo©Philip White
Longhop Adelaide Hills Pinot Gris 2016
($18; 12.5% alcohol; screw cap)
One of those bottles that
emptied before the ink came outa the nib - like jeez where'd that go? - this
creamy, reassuring, devilishly slick dainty is all silky unction and yum. My
favourite whites lately seem to have buttery pear characters in common, like
the Rocha, Anjou and luxurious Comice: perfect pears to slurp with a Port Salut
or real crunchy Parmigiano-Reggiano. This drink has the pear in its flavour, and yells out
for more of it on the plate. With that cheese. Eighteen bucks. Into it!
Longhop Adelaide Hills Premier
Cuvée Pinot Noir Chardonnay
($20; 13% alcohol; cork)
Another fancy from the maverick Tim Freeland/Dominic Torzi hombres, this Kersbrook-grown
fizz stands bravely beside much posher Hills sparklers like the venerable O'Leary-Walker
Hurtle and the knockouts from Deviation Road. Of course it has little of their
grandiloquence, but you don't expect it at this itty bitty spend. Keep them for
the Good Room. This one's a kitchen or veranda jobbie. It's musky and kinda
smoky and buttery like really good organic coconut butter before they put any
of that horrid fake coconut essence in it to make it stink too much like fake
coconut. No stink here, just that buttery flesh in abundance and the sort of
promise that makes it a very easy decision to arrest the wine's development
quick smart. Via the kidneys. No second thoughts. Without any need for apology, it's a drinker,
not a thinker. But that buttery bit of it would be disgusting with scallops on
the half shell, cooked with soy, grated ginger and mandarin peel and garnished
with spring onion shreds. Ewie.
The author with winemaker/graphic artist/designer Tim Freeland at the launch of Evidence of Vineyards on Mars a few years back ... photo Dave Hinds
Old Plains Power Of One Old Vines
Adelaide Plains Shiraz 2014
($35; 14.5% alcohol; screw cap)
Just to explain, Torzi-Matthews makes ravishing wines from the Barossa and
its Ranges, while Torzi and Freeland make Longhop wines from the Hills and rare
beauties from some of the last vineyards surviving amongst the Tupperware Tuscany villa rash that has devoured so much of the rich market garden country
on the plains to the north of Adelaide.
An Old Plains vineyard: Frank Gagliardi's vines, almonds and hothouses holding the houses off... note how the mega-sensitive town planners have designed the roads ... productive land is such an inconvenience!
This bastard sucks all the light outa the room. It is a black hole. While
it shows the light no mercy, somehow, feeling already robbed, it lets some perfume
escape. I mean I can feel its curmudgeonly claws grasping at that precious
scent, wanting it all back for itself, but sinister glints of blackberry and
mulberry sneak out through the carbon cracks with black Iberian ham and blood pudding and
all sorts of carnal glory. Those fermented meats riddle its flavour, too: it's
like an unholy fruit mince with heaps of suet. A kind of black meat and berries
cassoulet or something: hearty and rustic, yet polished. It has all that
intensity, yet bugger-all discernable tannin. It simply slides away. All too easy. Pretty good duck
wine. Or Zucchini bird soup with ground chestnuts, fresh tarragon and heapsa
cream.
The Great Zucchini Bird ... and here's Max and Thellie Schubert with Jack and Lea Minnett and Lindsay Stanley at the Minnett's Anglesey Estate on a lovely day in the early 'eighties ... Max loved to visit his favourite Adelaide Plains vineyards ... he bought lots of fruit there for his Penfolds premiums ... he said he used Plains Grenache in a few Granges to help them win medals as young show wines, but this is not in any books ... not surprising ... Lindsay was the Anglesey winemaker ... that's all houses now ... the Minnetts and the Schuberts are all deceased ... that was a great day we had ... lots of laughter ... photos©Philip White
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