John Glaetzer, former Wolf Blass winemaker, says he saw it coming: the day that bigger companies might pull back on grape supply. And come it has, with a vengeance, as Canberra growers contracted to Hardys learned a few weeks back.

Driving from the Barossa Valley to Langhorne Creek with John in late September, the gentle weather, and spring blossoms suggested confidence and new life. But for days John had been taking calls from distressed Langhorne Creek growers, some with supply contracts stretching back to the sixties.

Each had the same story: thanks very much, but we don’t want your grapes in 2007. Like growers in many Australian regions they’ve been crunched by the surplus of both wine grapes and wine – and the ensuing squeeze on winemaker returns.

Old hands like Glaetzer, seeing the crunch coming, moved early to find new homes for soon-to-be unwanted grapes.

He says that just few years back he and partner Bill Potts sold about five hundred tonnes of grapes a year from their 30-hectare Langhorne Creek vineyards to Fosters. In 2007 they’ll sell nil
Increasingly, the fruit has gone to Heartland, a new wine brand, created by a group of South Australian industry veterans, and made by John’s nephew, Ben Glaetzer.

Heartland — sourced from Langhorne Creek, on the northern side of Lake Alexandrina, and the vast Limestone Coast Zone, stretching from the Lake’s southern shore to the Southern Ocean, just south of Mount Gambier – seems to have hit the spot with the wine trade and consumers.

With more fruit looking for a home, John recently established Gipsie Jack Wines in partnership with fifth-generation Langhorne Creek grower, Bill Potts, engaging Bill’s son, Ben, as winemaker.

Bill and Ben already had the upmarket Ben Potts Langhorne Creek brand ($30 to $35 a bottle) on the go, so the new venture moved this grape-growing branch of the Potts family into the commercial winemaking mainstream as Gipsie Jack sells for a more modest $16 to $18 a bottle.

The first two Gipsie Jack wines (the brand, incidentally, comes from John Glaetzer’s Jack Russell, Gipsie) arrived in Canberra a few weeks back and apparently appealed strongly to the trade, assuring reasonable distribution.

The consumer appeal of brands like Gipsie Jack and Heartland springs from the exceptional value they offer. And that, in turn, comes from the provenance of the grapes, the winemakers and the personalities behind the brands.

This fusion of small growers and makers can be seen in many Australian areas, driven partly by the necessity born of surplus and partly as entrepreneurs seize opportunities created by rationalisation.
Restaurateurs and independent retailers are open to new, well-priced, exciting wine brands. These provide an escape from price comparison with the well-know brands sacrificed in the big retailer discount wars.

And big retailers, to resist being wagged by a handful of suppliers and for respite from the discount wars, look to the more sizeable independent makers as alternative, higher margin source of supply.

Throw clean skins into the mixture and probably an increasing volume of cheap, opportunity-driven labels, and we can be sure of a tumultuous, interesting and good value period ahead for wine drinkers.

The real gems, and probably the most durable, will be those like Heartland, Ben Potts and Gipsie Jack that spring from real pros with long-term commitment to particular regions.

Gipsie Jack Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc 2006 $16 to $18
What’s a Marlborough, New Zealand, wine doing in a Langhorne Creek portfolio? Well, fifth-generation Langhorne Creek grower, Bill Potts, helped Marlborough grower, John Webber acquire a vineyard in Langhorne Creek. Later, John returned Bill’s favour on the warmer northern side of Marlborough’s Wairau Valley. Hence, the first Gipsie Jack reflects this distinctive sub-regional sourcing with its predominance of passionfruit-like aromas and flavours – a contrast to the more capsicum-like character of those from the cooler southern side of the valley. This style is at its mouth watering best when served crackling cold with salads, grilled fish and other light, fresh foods.

Gipsie Jack Langhorne Creek Shiraz 2005 $16 to $18
At Langhorne Creek recently and in Canberra a few weeks back I caught up with the team behind Gipsie Jack: former Wolf Blass winemaker, John Glaetzer, Langhorne Creek grower, Bill Potts, and his son Ben, a winemaker. This is a formidable combination, bringing together generations of grape growing experience with forty years’ winemaking expertise. The resulting wines hit smack in the sweet spot for both quality and price, giving them a real chance of success even in this crowded market. The 2005 shiraz offers plenty of bright, fresh varietal flavour and satisfying, drying, savoury tannins. Local retailers embraced the wines at the Canberra tasting, so distribution is under way.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2006 & 2007

Despite a reputed $2million public subsidy, Hardy’s bailed out of its reported $10million Canberra wine investment after just six years. So, has the Kamberra venture turned from white knight to white elephant? Or can the legacy be sustained under new ownership?

Whoever the new owner might be, there’s one thing for sure: Hardy’s winemaking experience in the district provides profound insights into where future success might lie.

The new owners – and contract growers — will also be well aware that of the three-thousand tonne annual grape crush at the Watson facility, only a tiny fraction makes the winery’s Kamberra and Meeting Place brands. The bulk goes to other Hardy Wine Company products.

Take these out of the equation – which is exactly what Hardy intends to do – and you have a vastly under utilised capacity unless the new owner ramps up the local brands to an unprecedented level or takes on large-scale contract processing.

An optimist might suggest that the new owner take up the estimated fifteen hundred tonnes of contract grown grapes and crush them with the roughly eight hundred tonnes from Hardy’s Holt vineyard — for a total of two thousand three hundred tonnes.

That’s simple arithmetic. But it translates to somewhere in the vicinity of 170 thousand dozen bottles of Canberra wine – dramatically beyond current demand. It also ignores the fact that most of that fruit currently finds its way into out of district blends.

As well, the highly rated Kamberra and Meeting Place Chardonnays and sparkling wines rely almost entirely on fruit from Tumbarumba, not Canberra. Almost certainly Hardys will divert this resource to comparable brands in its portfolio.

These challenges dictate that a future, independent Kamberra has to be dramatically different from the Kamberra that was primarily plugged into global markets through its massive parent company — and in which the local brand was but a side play.

But the very scale of the Kamberra operation and the unrelenting benchmarking demanded by Hardys meant that a clear, realistic view of our region’s strengths emerged.

And that view, supported by my own tastings, puts Canberra’s shiraz at the top by a very large margin, followed by the white varieties viognier and riesling.

A new owner, focused only on Canberra fruit, and in tune with Hardy’s achievements could excite wine drinkers with the stellar quality of shiraz, supported by the whites.

One advantage of an intense focus on the most exciting wines is that the best independent growers might continue to provide shiraz and riesling to a revitalised Kamberra.

However, even if a quality-lead approach drives Kamberra’s future, it holds little comfort for growers that don’t make the cut.

While those growers are afforded some protection by existing contracts, the Hardy exit exposes the weak demand for Canberra grapes. That leaves two to three years for growers to find other buyers, develop their own brands (as some have done already) or even exit the market.

An entrepreneurial new Kamberra owner might or might not want to buy into the growers’ dilemma. There is certainly no obligation to do so.

But there’s no denying the opportunities presented by the Watson wine tourism complex and Hardy’s extraordinary winemaking achievements.

The best shirazes made there by Alex McKay are world class; the viogniers are up there with the best in Australia; and the rieslings are within sight of the classics from the Clare and Eden Valleys. That’s a unique legacy. We can’t afford to lose it.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2006 & 2007

Sniffing around the Barossa last week – after judging the area’s wine show – turned up a number of wonderful, off the radar wine ventures.

Just as we’ve seen in Canberra this week following Hardy’s decision exit from the region, Australia’s grape surplus, combined with industry rationalisation, has been driving change, often in unpredictable ways.

It might be easy to view the surplus as coming only from vast new plantings of the wrong varieties planted in high cost areas. Indeed, this ‘structural imbalance’ is real and will be painful in the adjustment.
But as I saw in the Barossa, exciting new wine names are appearing daily as sophisticated grape growers and winemakers turn their attention to very special patches of vines – some very old and some new.

As a wine judge these are of particular interest because many of these makers chose to operate outside of the show circuit. With a clear vision of what they want to make and how to market it, they need neither external benchmarking nor gongs. Even if they’re inclined to enter shows, they’re not always prepared – or able — to pay the entry fee.

Even regular visitors to the Barossa are likely to be unaware of wine names like Teusner, Tscharke, Lienert, Hentley Farm, Clos Otto, Fools Bay, Gibson or Murray Street Vineyards – to name just a few outstanding newcomers.

Some don’t have cellar door facilities and sell by word of mouth, through personal contacts or – like Lienert – are too new to have put a price tag on imminent first releases.

In a tin shed on Jenke Road, Seppeltsfield, vigneron Kevin North showed a range of outstanding wines to myself and fellow judges P-J Charteris and Lester Jesberg.

Kevin sources fruit for the Fools Bay label from local and valley floor vineyards and Hentley Farm brand from the Barossa’s Marananga sub-region, to the west of Tanunda. This reflects a trend amongst new small makers to emphasise a particular corner of the valley rather than the region as a whole.

At a modest $15 a bottle Fools Bay ‘Dirty Bliss’ Grenache Shiraz 2005 and Fools Bay ‘Dusty’s Design’ Shiraz 2005 offer generous, soft current drinking with a genuine Barossa accent.

For $30, Hentley Farm Shiraz 2005 delivers tremendous perfume, vibrance, delicious depth of fruit flavour and savoury complexity. It’s estate grown and, to my taste, a very exciting drink.

A day later, with the help of consulting viticulturist Warwick Murray, we discovered several extraordinary wines made by Damien Tscharke.

As well as the Barossa staples, semillon, shiraz, grenache and mourvedre, Damien works with the Spanish varieties, albarino, tempranillo and graciano and the Italian Montepulciano and zinfandel – all grown in the Marananga sub-region.

Damien offers the traditional varieties under the Glaymond Wines label and the exotics under the tscharke label at prices varying from $18 to $32.

The tscharke ‘Girl Talk’ Albarino 2006 is a vibrant, aromatic, soft style – an attractive aperitif wine with a flavour and savouriness quite removed from that of riesling, sauvignon or chardonnay.

tscharke ‘Only Son’ Tempranillo Graciano, is an intensely flavoured medium bodied red with fine, savoury, very dry tannins – a great wine to serve with high protein food.

But for me the pick of the range was the gutsy tscharke ‘The Master ’Montepulciano 2005, one of only two expressions of this variety encountered outside of Italy.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2006 & 2007

Not the least of the pressures facing winemakers is the constant demand for capital. In an industry notorious for low or negative returns to investors — just ask any of the estimated forty per cent of Australia’s wineries currently losing money – this means a reliance on external funding.

That funding might come from the day jobs of the owners, through debt or though private or public equity raising.

Ambitious, expanding wineries in particular feel this pressure. But once a business moves from private funding to publicly listed equity, as Petaluma did, its fate all too easily slips from the control of its founders.

Brian Croser placed Petaluma in this position and, sure enough, in 2001 brewer Lion Nathan swallowed the enterprise he’d founded in 1976.

Croser initially stayed on under the new ownership but departed after the 2005 vintage.

Then, a few weeks back, the Petaluma team staged a three-decades of Petaluma tasting to mark the company’s thirtieth anniversary. Brian was conspicuously absent. So, too, was any statement of a future vision. But the wines – including the 2006 riesling, the first made entirely by new boss, Andrew Hardy – delivered their own testimonial.

And what did the testimonial say? To my palate, the message was that Petaluma remains amongst Australia’s best producers of riesling and cabernet; shows exciting potential with its recently introduced shiraz – and to a lesser extent viognier — from Mount Barker in the Adelaide Hills; makes outstanding chardonnay and sparkling wine, but not, perhaps, at the cutting edge as they once were.

From the earliest days, Croser’s vision was to match variety to region and, within regions, to select what he later called ‘distinguished’ sites. Riesling and cabernet sauvignon came first with the purchase of the established Hanlin Hill Vineyard in the Clare Valley and Evans Vineyard, Coonawarra (supplemented later by the Sharefarmer’s Vineyard).

To my palate these remain the stand out wines. At the thirty-year tasting, the six rieslings from 2001 to 2006 displayed a dazzling, consistent brightness of colour, aroma and flavour, thanks to the use of screw caps.

These showed notable vintage variation with all round quality best, to my taste, in 2002, 2005 and 2006. As well, an appealing ‘toasty’ aged character was apparent in the 2001 and subtly so in the sensational 2002.

The cork-sealed wines showed considerable bottle variation and distracting flaws. But even so, the 1999, 1998, 1991 and 1982 were delicious, but overshadowed by the beautifully fresh, but aged, 1979 and 1980.

What this says is that screw-cap sealed wines of the calibre of the 2005 and 2006, both still in the market, will provided extraordinary drinking for decades if well cellared.

The first two Petaluma Coonawarras, 1979 and 1980, made a statement of the era, the district and the blend. Both are blends of shiraz and cabernet made in the medium bodied style of the time. They’d travelled well through the years and still show that distinctive, appealing Coonawarra berry character.

The style changed with a switch from shiraz to merlot in the blend and in the late eighties displayed a little more body thanks to riper harvesting.

As a group they’d aged gracefully and retained terrific regional and varietal definition. To me highlights were 1986, 1990, 1991, 1992, 1995 and 1996 with a very special rating to the 2002 and 1998 vintages.

Petaluma Hanlin Hill Clare Valley Riesling 2006 $19-$23
Brian Croser fermented Petaluma’s first riesling – a 1976 from Mitchelton Vineyard, Nagambie – in a spent Maralinga rocket-fuel tank. From 1979, having acquired the Hanlin Hill vineyard, Clare Valley, he made the first of the single-vineyard Petaluma rieslings that’ve given the wine its well deserved blue-chip status. At a recent tasting of all the rieslings the oldest and youngest vintages stood out like bookends as if to say, young or old, this is a great wine. The 1979 and 1980 were both wonderfully fresh, albeit with the delicious patina of age. The 2005, the last made by Croser, is a classic. And 2006, Andrew Hardy’s first, is spectacularly aromatic and superb.

Petaluma Coonawarra 2002 $42-$58
2002 was one of the coolest seasons on record in much of eastern Australia. This boosted flavour intensity of reds in our warmer areas but in cool Coonawarra many vineyards seemed to struggle for ripeness – a character reflected in the leafy, not-quite-ripe character of many of the wines. Petaluma, however, achieved ripeness in its tiny crop to produce what to me is one of the finest since the first vintage in 1979. At a tasting of every vintage a few weeks back it appealed for its enormous flavour concentration in the elegant, firm, Coonawarra mould. It’s a classic, destined to give drinking pleasure for decades to come.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2006 & 2007