Two Masters of wine from
the British Isles came to sit on my veranda yesterday to talk Grenache.
Giles Cooke and Fergal Tynan are among the
Grenache winemakers who've emerged from the woodwork to make contact since I
commenced my irregular series on this renascent variety. They comb this country
for old vineyards to make their Thistledown Wines with former Nepenthe
winemaker Peter Leske at his Lenswood winery.
Fermented slowly, naturally, in
ceramic eggs with plenty of whole bunches and berries, these wines are made for
both the Australian and UK markets. In the latter, they're aimed
fair-and-square at the shelves usually filled with Spaniards. Give 'em hell,
lads!
Thistledown The Vagabond Blewett
Springs McLaren Vale Grenache 2014 ($40;
15% alcohol; screw cap) is from the sandy-and-ironstone sub-region where
these Thistledowners believe "Grenache is at its fragrant, textural best." This
baby's right up that alley: oozing intense bergamot and stewed quince and clove
aromas, amongst other tempting lovelies. All those alcohols don't seem to
bother it, instead helping smooth and harmonise the bouquet, perhaps at the
risk of losing some of the variety's cherries-and-roses typicity. They do similar
work on the palate, without making it seem too hot or strong, but rendering more
of a dining table wine than a casual patio tipple: just about anything with
aromatic mushrooms: morels, portobellos or shiitake - truffles, too - would set
it up just schmick.
Thistledown The
Vagabond Old Vine Blewett Springs Grenache 2015 ($50; 14.5% alcohol; screw cap) smells a little more intense and
inky, with the sooty leanness I often associate more with Barossa Grenache.
Once again, the bouquet offers a different range of pleasures to what I expect
of standard Blewett Springs Grenache, if there is such a thing. The roses,
cherries and blueberries here are perfectly alluring, but the wine proffers darker,
deeper mysteries than those. Like soft fresh licorice and, again, cloves. There's
also some of leathery old harness characters I would normally associate with
old Barossa vines, or indeed Spanish, Grenache. The flavours are tight and still
supressed by the confusion of youth, but they're dead serious: they look you in
the eye. They're already harmonising beautifully, but building a surly, stroppy
wine of certain attitude and direction rather than anything frivolous or effete.
It's fine as a young punk with black leather and ripple soles, but if you wait
a few years, it'll don a very cool suit and do better business. Which would
tend to point me more at steak or duck right now. Save the truffles til it
settles down.
Thistledown Gorgeous
Thorny Devil Old Vine Barossa Grenache 2016 ($28; 14.5% alcohol; screw cap) is from the northern flats of the
Barossa near Kalimna. Very much after the same house style, this wine initially seems made
for earlier drinking: as if to disprove my generalising about regional
differences, it's cheeky and fresh. Which is not to say it won't grow and
mellow: even with just a little time in the glass, the bouquet builds intensity
and strength, and yep: there they are: those leathery, bone-dry lignin-deep
whiffs of Barossa tradition. But then the palate's silky-slick, and stacked
with the sort of rosey florals I usually associate more with Blewett Springs!
So here's your patio/veranda schlück: try it with Woodside Cheese Wrights Lemon
Myrtle Chevre and those tiny koroneiki olives from Coriole. Yum.
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