Australian winemakers seem to be copping bit of stick from some quarters for making inky, oaky, alcoholic shiraz – ‘caricatures’ some say, of wines that taste awful young and grow worse with age.

But let’s not confuse these over-ripe, over-oaked, sometimes artificially concentrated reds with our very powerful, balanced, warm-climate styles. Many of these are made to age gracefully for decades – and it takes a bit of stuffing to emerge in good nick after twenty or thirty years in the cellar.

And robust wines like this, by definition, don’t always have the drink-now appeal of the vast majority of wines made for early consumption. They’re usually balanced, but sheer concentration of fruit flavour and a high tannin load can be a little daunting.

The best of these, generally released after four or five years’ bottle age, still show a youthful crimson around the rim and a near opaque red/black centre, with solid fruit and tannin to match. At this stage they’re impressive, if a little raw.

Move on a decade or two and the colour tones down to a vibrant red, perhaps with a touch of brown and the aroma and flavour show wonderful, warm, aged characters along with the still-sweet fruit. And by now the tannins have softened and oak character merged into the single ‘winey’ flavour.

At many tastings and dinners over the years aged, robust Aussie reds have emerged beautifully after ten, twenty, thirty and even fifty years in the cellar.

At a single tasting a little over a year ago, Grange 1983, once so dense and tannic, led the following list of robust, mellowing and deeply fruity shirazes: Grange 1991, Jim Barry Clare Valley The Armagh 1990, Penfolds St Henri 1991, Peter Lehmann Barossa Valley Stonewell 1991 and 1994, Orlando Lawson’s Padthaway 1992, Yalumba Octavius 1993, Henschke Hill of Grace Eden Valley 1994 and Tim Adams Clare Valley The Aberfeldy 1994.

We might call these warm climate shirazes the old guard – established and time proven, but now being joined by increasing numbers of supple, elegant cool-climate styles exemplified by Canberra’s Clonakilla Shiraz Viognier of Murrumbateman.

The successful spread of shiraz into cooler areas – notably the Canberra District and southern Victoria – doesn’t spell the end of the old styles. It just means greater diversity for drinkers and probably provides further impetus for warm climate producers to fine tune oak handling and other winemaking inputs – something that’s been ongoing anyway.

While the market demands mainly drink-now reds, the best of the new wave, like Clonakilla, possess the huge fruit intensity and structure for long-term ageing. But they also have the seductive perfume, subtle oak and soft structure to appeal now – virtues that the warm climate long-cellaring reds seldom reveal.

That’s partly because different climates will, thankfully, produce different wine styles from the same grape variety. A Barossa grower cannot emulate a Canberra style and vice versa.

This diversity is important for drinkers and healthy for the wine industry. What we have to hope for is that the current trend for critics to promote elegance and refinement and slam robustness doesn’t turn the heads of winemakers away from proven regional styles.

The danger for drinkers when new enthusiasms emerge is that enthusiasm can be contagious, sometimes for no good reason. I’ve tasted many talked-up, ‘elegant’ cool climate shirazes to be simply feeble, and unripe at that. And that hurts when you’ve paid $25 or $30 a bottle.

I find, too, that’s there’s not a lot of joy in many me-too shiraz-viognier blends. The best, like Clonakilla, are wonderful. But some seem to be going through the motions. What you get, all too often, is shiraz that tastes more like syrup than wine – a far cry from the seductive fragrance and silky texture achieved with that blend by Clonakilla and a few others.

For sure, let’s curb the excesses of oak, alcohol and tannin. But when it comes to our top end, warm climate reds with proven long term cellaring ability, let’s not cave in to whim or fashion. Twenty-year reds need power and structure. Informed drinkers know that and don’t want to see them focus grouped into feebleness.

Quite apart from the long-lived, more robust styles, there’s a generosity and lovableness to the earlier-drinking shirazes from warm areas like the Barossa, Clare and McLaren Vale. Indeed, Australia’s export success to the USA rides on these delicious styles. And, in truth, that’s where most domestic emphasis lies, too.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2007

When will Australia’s most prestigious wine, Penfolds Grange, adopt the screw cap? It won’t, winemaker Peter Gago told me in Adelaide a few weeks ago. So are we doomed to throwing away the odd, corked $500 bottle forever? Not at all, says Peter.

But we’ll have to wait a little while for his solution. It’s radical and, arguably, made possible by screw cap’s commercial and technical success over the past decade.

The screw cap’s ready adoption broke the cork monopoly. In turn — albeit reluctantly and slowly — sections of the cork industry addressed the systemic, destructive problems of oxidation and cork-taint.

But the by the time Diam (a highly-effective, high-tech composite cork) arrived, masses of drinkers had abandoned the corkscrew forever and other innovative seals had arrived.

In Australia, for example, an Adelaide company developed and released the plastic, pull out Zork plug, while in Worms, Germany, Alcoa commenced manufacture of the elegant, glass Vino-Lok.

In developing the Vino-Lok, Alcoa surely looked to challenge rival aluminium giant, Alcan, owner, through its French subsidiary, Pechiney, of Stelvin, the original screw cap for wine.

And Stelvin is where the screw-cap revolution began. It fizzed for a while in the sixties and seventies, then faltered and faded in the eighties. But it simmered in winemakers’ minds before re-emerging in the late nineties.

The re-emergence in Australia rested on two forces – winemaker dissatisfaction with cork and the marvelous maturity, freshness and consistency of whites, mainly rieslings, that had survived from the short Stelvin boom of the sixties and seventies.

That white wine would not only keep but also mature well under screw cap for decades was proven. And winemakers both here and in New Zealand were aware of trials with reds in France a generation earlier.

Several Australian wineries – including Penfolds and Henschke — began testing the cellarability of reds under screw caps and other seals during the nineties.

Peter Gago says that Penfolds trials included Bin 389 Cabernet Shiraz 1996 and Bin 2 Mourvedre 1995. The results were – and continue to be — encouraging. What the trials show conclusively is that a top-notch red like Bin 389 matures exactly as you’d expect it to under a good cork – but without the loss caused by cork taint or oxidation.

It also shows that the seal survives intact for a decade.

A decade on from those trials, many of the top-end Penfolds reds have screw caps – including the recently released $150-a-bottle RWT Barossa Shiraz 2004. But as I’ve wondered before why, with the knowledge and confidence they had, did Penfolds not seize the leadership with screw caps? Instead they seemed to have opted for an equivocal, piecemeal rollout that hardly inspires confidence.

So, if screw cap is better for the other Penfolds reds, why not for Grange?

Well, says Peter Gago, ‘With Grange we’re talking about people cellaring it for thirty to fifty years. We’ve had trials for ten years, but we’ve got our fingers crossed that these wines will still be good in four or five decades. It’s the integrity of the seal, not ageing that’s of concern’.

He explains that while we know that screw cap seals keep white wines perfectly for thirty years, the chemistry of red wine is different and we simply don’t know for certain that the seal will last.

He recalls working with well-known sparkling-wine maker, Ed Carr, at the company’s Nuriootpa sparkling cellars. They observed that crown seals on sparkling red wines often deteriorated where those for sparkling whites didn’t.

Whether or not modern screw caps with their tin coated sealing wads will deteriorate in contact with red wine for fifty years is simply not known. We do know that some corks make the distance and some don’t.

We also know that top Bordeaux Chateau re-cork their museum stock every couple of decades. And Penfolds itself offers free re-corking clinics for customers with reds over fifteen years of age.

So, it might be argued that if screw cap is better than cork for the medium term, why not make the change and offer re-capping clinics? There’d probably be a lot less Grange lost than there is under cork.
But Gago believes the solution for Grange has to better than that, and that ‘it’s an engineering thing, and will be worth the wait’.

And we shouldn’t have to wait too many years for the Gago solution: glass-to-glass. He cites examples of industries containing gas with glass or ceramic valves.

Glass to glass, he says, is the ideal seal as there’s nothing to corrode – no perishable material like cork, the tin-coated wad in screw caps or the silicon ring of Vino-Lok.

He says the company engaged an engineer to develop the idea and already has a prototype – a glass disc held in place with a spring-loaded clamp. Once perfected, says Peter, it can be deployed rapidly.
As long as the mechanism creates the perfect seal – and that can be readily tested – wine maturation trials won’t be necessary. ‘We don’t need any air getting in. There’s enough in there’, says Peter, pointing to the neck of the 2002 Grange.

What’s in all this for the drinker? Well, better seals mean better wine. Winemakers and packaging engineers are at last closing what has been the weakest link in the quality control chain. Bring on the innovations, I say, and throw away the corkscrew.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2007

Of the notable genius displayed in Australia’s long winemaking history – from Ray Beckwith’s profound scientific insights to the crafting of sublime, long-lived reds by legends like Maurice O’Shea, Colin Preece and Jack Kilgour – the achievements of Grange creator, Max Schubert, soar.

What Max put in place — that O’Shea, Preece, Kilgour and others did not — was a powerful succession structure that guaranteed continuity of the wines he created.

Max became production manager at Penfolds Magill cellars in 1948, made the first Grange in 1951 and ‘retired’ in 1973. But until his death in 1994 he maintained an office at Magill and remained a mentor to Don Ditter and John Duval — his successors from 1973 and 1986 respectively.

Don had worked alongside Max from 1950 until his retirement in 1986. And John Duval worked closely with both Ditter and Schubert prior to taking the reins from Don.

Fortunately the winemaking culture survived the abrupt departure of Duval in 2002 – a consequence of the disastrous Rosemount takeover – with the appointment of Peter Gago, Duval’s experienced offsider, as leader of a well-seasoned winemaking team.

This continuity over a period of more than fifty years means that the Penfolds reds we drink today still bear the Schubert thumbprint of powerful fruit flavours, robust structure and age-worthiness.

The Australian winemaking scene today is unrecognisable from the fortified-driven era in which Max learned his skills. But even among the amazing diversity now available — and amid increasing cries for elegance — Penfolds sturdy reds just about always deliver, especially after a few years’ bottle age.

The Granges, Bin 389s, Bin 28s and so on that we enjoy today, are in many ways different from the ones that Max made. Fruit sourcing has changed over the years as Australian vineyards expanded – especially during the explosive nineties.

And several new labels have appeared, partly as a response to increasing fruit diversity, partly in response to perceived demand and partly through winemaker innovation.

But the deeply layered, complex style is still perceivably Max’s – even in the more elegant styles like Magill Estate Shiraz (for which he hand wrote the first specification in August 1982, nineteen years after retiring), RWT Barossa Valley Shiraz and Bin 128 Coonawarra Shiraz. In each case fruit sourcing ensures elegant flavour and structure, but not at the expense of depth and complexity.

For all of these reasons, the annual release of the Penfolds blue chips presents an opportunity to buy some of Australia’s greatest wines in mint condition.

Those buying as an investment, however, are likely to be disappointed. If you don’t believe this, go to langtons.com.au and compare auction prices for older vintages against retail prices for current vintages. You may be surprised.

Older vintages generally sell at a substantial discount to the new release. This alone might discourage prospective investors. And for drinkers it means that if you want to enjoy Grange in its golden age – 15 to 20 years in my experience – auction is the place to go.

For example, as collectors forked out around $500 a bottle for the new and superb 2002 recently, auction goers collected the equally venerable 1996 and 1991 for just $427 and $405 respectively, or so-called ‘lesser’ vintages like 1989 for $349, 1992 for $279 or 1994 for $266. These prices include the fifteen per cent buyer’s premium and GST paid to the auctioneer.

Auction prices suggest that if you bought Grange at retail price before its mid-nineties internationalisation, you may have been on the money as an investor in the mid and late nineties – but would have seen little, none or negative movement in real terms since.

Langton’s records show a clear pattern of higher prices for the big-reputation vintages. The legendary 1990, for instance, recently sold at a nett $719, more than double the $319 fetched by the 1989 vintage. And 1986, another great vintage, fetched $577 while the 1985 attracted just $254.

What this suggests to me is that if you buy the best vintages as an investment, you may lose less money than if you buy the lesser ones. Or, from a more positive, drinking pleasure perspective, let someone else do the investing and cellaring, then buy up the mature gems at auction.

An important caveat is to check the provenance of wine with the auctioneer prior to bidding. Good cellaring is everything.

From a wine-quality perspective, the recent Penfolds premium releases, including Grange 2002, are exciting by any measure. I recently tasted these with winemaker Peter Gago and even discussed the likely end of cork as a seal for Australia’s flagship red. The Gago solution is unique. Read about it here next week.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2007

The quality and style of several great Australian wine brands owned by Foster’s remain intact despite the wine division’s ten per cent sales decline in the first half 2006–07. But will great brands like Penfolds, Wynns and Wolf Blass flourish long term under the Foster’s banner? Will Foster’s remain in the wine business in the long term?

I wonder if, in relaxed moments on the golf course, Foster’s boss, Trevor O’Hoy laments the brewer’s venture into wine. A ten per cent slide in wine sales in the first half of 2006–07 says clearly that integrating a brewer and a winemaker is hard slog — and the analysts are onto it.

One major stockbroker, Merrill Lynch, cited by Richard Farmer on glug.com.au, writes, ‘We have argued in this note that we are non believers in the Australian multi beverage model, that we are non believers that a large company with a portfolio containing non-performing brands can ever out perform the market, and that we are non believers that a large wine company can grow brands without hurting other brands within its portfolio. We also believe Foster’s integration is too complex – and that snags will be a regular feature. In essence, we believe Foster’s operating under its current structure will continue to disappoint. And it is for this fundamental reason that we maintain our SELL recommendation’.

While Foster’s battles to overcome these management, financial, marketing and trading difficulties, the winemaking end of the business has, to date, kept some of our great brands intact. We can still trust and enjoy them. And that means that they still have the intrinsic quality to drive domestic sales and the export push.

Behind names like Penfolds, Saltram, Metala, Wynns, Mildara, Seppelt and Leo Buring lie specific regions, vineyards and decades of winemaking practice. These are the elements that create distinct wine flavours and, in turn, make the brands what they are.

But what happens when disparate winemaking cultures come together in one winery? When you blend Beringer Blass with Southcorp and all the brands associated with each, as Foster’s have done, do you get homogeneity immediately — or over time?

A tasting of the wines shows that it hasn’t happened yet. And a look at the winemaking structure, with chief winemaker Chris Hatcher, shows how this can be maintained for the present. The real challenge could come later, though, if financial underperformance forces more rationalisation.

Each of the brands has a long-term winemaker in charge, for example Sue Hodder for Wynns Coonawarra; Andrew Hales for Mildara Coonawarra; Caroline Dunn for Wolf Blass – Barossa, Langhorne Creek, McLaren Vale, Adelaide Hills; Nigel Dolan for Saltram Barossa and Metala Langhorne Creek; Peter Gago for Penfolds reds – multi-regional; Ian Shepherd for Penfolds whites – Eden and Clare Valleys, Adelaide Hills, Henty, Tumbarumba; Emma Woods for Seppelt Great Western and surrounds; Wendy Stuckey for Annie’s Lane Clare Valley.

That’s only part of the list. But each winemaker has designated vineyards, or sections of vineyards, both company owned and contract grower. Grading for each wine style begins in the vineyard, continues at the crusher during vintage and afterwards in fermenter, storage tank and barrel.

Continuing assessment of grapes and individual wine batches means that quality grading from A (eg Penfolds Grange, Wolf Blass Black Label) to F (wine cask) can be altered as the season and, later, maturation progresses. Thus wines may be upgraded, downgraded or even re-allocated on the basis of style. Maintaining discrete batches right up until the point of final blending facilitates this.

Hence, when you taste a Wynns Coonawarra next to a Mildara Coonawarra, the styles are notably different. And this comes from different approaches in the vineyards, different vineyards within one region, harvest decisions and winemaking approach. Similarly Nigel Dolan’s reds taste different from those made by Caroline Dunn in the same winery.

Indeed tasting tank samples of 2007 rieslings tasted with Hatcher’s winemakers in the Barossa recently showed very marked variations amongst those destined for the Annie’s Lane, Leo Buring and Wolf Blass brands – and even between different quality levels for each.

From a consumer viewpoint these major Foster’s brands offer great value. And the best are exciting, world-class wines. Hatcher says that the focus both here and overseas will be increasingly on regionality and that this will continue to be driven by the winemakers.

Unfortunately, some of these great brands appear to be in decline commercially, if not in quality. We can only hope that Foster’s marketing and trading arms might fall into step with the winemakers so that these great products continue.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2007

The 2007 vintage ends a difficult season for wine makers in which drought, frost and bushfire trimmed the national grape harvest by hundreds of thousands of tonnes. But the small vintage, harsh as it will be financially on many winemakers and grape growers, appears to have brought a profit-sapping surplus to an end.

Visiting Canberra recently, Barossa vigneron Grant Burge called 2007 ‘the vintage from hell’. He said he’d ‘never seen anything like it. Reds are down in volume by seventy per cent and whites by thirty five per cent’.

From Nagambie Lakes in Victoria’s Goulburn Valley, Tahbilk’s Alister Purbrick writes, ‘I wrote to you last October with a good news/bad news letter in regard to the effect of the frost on our and other Victorian vineyards. I predicted a crop loss of 50% – the bad news is that it is more like 70-75%.

‘The good news – the Australian wine industry will be down around one million tonnes (720 million litres) which will not only use up all 2005/2006 bulk wine excesses held in tank (450million litres) but will leave the industry in a grape shortfall situation ongoing, which will hopefully lead to a more stable marketplace, less discounting and some restoration of margin and profitability to winemakers’.

In his newsletter Tappenings, vigneron Brian Croser goes straight to the cause of the harsh seasons, ‘El Nino, the cyclic weather phenomenon of the Pacific Ocean and not global warming, was responsible for the “drought of the century”, a predictable by-product of which was the clear sky, dry soil, radiation frosts that ravaged a good proportion of Australia’s fine wine vineyards. The likelihood that Australia’s 2007 vintage is 1.3 million tonnes, only 65% of the exaggerated average of the past three vintages is good and bad news; bad news for the frosted victims, good news for the balance of supply to match the demand for Australian wine’.

While Croser, like Purbrick, sees an opportunity for the industry to return to financial health, he adds an important caveat for vignerons, “The intrigue of scarcity will again increase the respect for quality among fine wine consumers who will be willing to pay more and this time around the vignerons should respond by reinvesting in quality rather than quantity’.

The Australian Wine and Brandy Corporation’s April estimate of the vintage size (based on a survey of company’s responsible for about 85 per cent of Australia’s grape crush) puts the harvest at 1.34 million tonnes, 560 thousand tonnes less than in 2006 and the lowest since 2000.

The AWBC estimates that the white crush fell by 17 per cent to 702 thousand tonnes and the red crush by 39 per cent to 639 thousand tonnes. Their report also notes 2007 as the lowest yielding vintage – in tonnes of grapes per hectare of vines – since 1976, attributable to drought, frost and bush-fire taint.

And the low yields are likely to continue in 2008 because of ‘poor development of the primordial buds (next year’s fruiting buds that sit behind those that flower and bear fruit this year) …together with expectations of reduced amounts of water available for irrigation in the warm inland districts…’

Press releases from various Australian regions tend put the best spin they can on a tough vintage. But none has the poignancy of this note from De Bortoli about Victoria’s King Valley, ‘Disaster. Frost, drought and no water from the King River to irrigate, decimated the region. The bush fires imparted a smoke taint on the small crops that were salvaged, making the fruit virtually unusable. We look forward to a normal season in 2008’.

And what about quality? Well, as in any vintage, big or small, generalisations are not helpful. In the Yarra, for example, vineyards on the valley floor copped a hammering from spring frosts, while many on elevated sites produced reasonable volumes and good quality.

In the Barossa last week on what was admittedly a very short visit, winemakers tended to favour whites over reds – and I tasted some convincing Eden Valley and Clare rieslings. But the reds are mostly in the ugly malo-lactic fermentation stage, making it hard to gauge quality.

Those who’ve seen it all before reckon there are some great parcels out there, albeit in small volume. For example, former Grange maker, John Duval, says “Although the quantity is down overall, I’m really very pleased with the shiraz, grenache and mataro from this vintage.”

The sudden shift from surplus to shortage, though, has already firmed up bulk wine prices and is quickly slurping up the hangovers from 2005 and 2006. While competitive forces will almost certainly mitigate retail price rises, they’ll begin to hit before too long, starting with white wines.

But when the red increases begin, as they must, the sheer scale of shortage in the 2007 vintage suggests heftier price rises in store than for whites.

Perhaps the first to be hit by the shortage will be the burgeoning clean skin trade. It’s been around for many decades, of course, and rises and falls with supply. But several years of dramatic oversupply have probably given it a false sense of permanence.

The message for drinkers? Don’t panic. Australia’s not running out of wine. But as prices are likely to firm — and stay firm for the next few years — it might pay to grab an extra case of red here and there when the quality/price ratio is right. And if the going gets too tough, imports will fill the gap.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2007

Few people drive the cars that win motor races. Yet motor sports contribute considerably to safety and performance developments in motor vehicles – improvements that finally trickle down to the family sedan.

Similarly, relatively few drinkers enjoy the Ferraris of the wine world – the great and enduring names that excite drinkers, inspire winemakers and lead, ultimately, to the production of better everyday drinking as surely as motor racing leads to better family cars.

Happily, the vehicle/vine metaphor doesn’t stretch to money: while the prices of top notch cars are unattainable to most at hundreds of thousands of dollars, the world’s greatest wines remain relatively accessible at hundreds of dollars a bottle.

Serious wine buffs, winemakers and wine judges – not necessarily wealthy people — can and do test-drive the world’s most venerable bottles, often spreading the expense over a group of tasters.

The practice is particularly widespread in Australia’s winemaking community and even more marked amongst Australia’s leading wine show judges.

While this may appear at odds with our parochial wine taste (Australia’s imports represent only a few per cent of total wine consumption), it’s probably one of the key forces driving improvements in wine quality.

It’s all about benchmarking. And to benchmark in a global market, winemakers need the broadest possible frame of reference plus an unbiased appreciation of the best the world can offer.

Take chardonnay for example. If a winemaker seeks to be amongst the best, benchmark tastings must include leading examples from Australia, New Zealand and the United States as well as a bottle or two from one of the great Domaines of Puligny-Montrachet, Chassagne-Montrachet or Corton-Charlemagne in France’s Burgundy region.

This doesn’t imply any fawning reverence for names — just a genuine, open-minded examination of what the world has to offer. Our best winemakers and judges do this and readily acknowledge road-to-Damascus experiences provided by the best wines of, for example, Domaine Leflaive of Puligny-Montrachet or Domaine Bonneau-du-Martray of Corton-Charlemagne.

These are the Ferraris of the chardonnay world, bound to impress anyone with more than a passing interest in wine. And the price? Perhaps $200 to $400 a bottle. That’s not much really, especially if half a dozen people chip in for the pleasure.

The late Len Evans was the greatest proponent of the ‘Ferrari principle’, having propelled two generations of Australian wine judges to an appreciation of the world’s best – as a prerequisite to competent judging. How can you judge, Len insisted, if you didn’t know the outer limits of quality?

Over lunches, dinners, tastings and at gatherings after a day’s judging, Len, as show chairman, insisted on great bottles, served masked and discussed openly. Talented insiders enjoyed an even more intense tutelage under Len, gaining comprehensive exposure to benchmark wines, especially those of France, Germany and Portugal.

Even after his death, Len continues mentoring via the annual ‘Len Evans Tutorial’ – a structured week long, live-in series of tastings and tutorials for promising youngish palates, conducted by Len’s leading acolytes. The course, through exposure to the word’s great wines, seeks to put wine excellence in a global context.

But there’s life beyond Len as well. While he provided inspiration and leadership, dozens of other influential winemakers and show judges explore the world of wine – sometimes on their own tasting benches, but also in the open forum that continues to follow judges around the wine show circuit.

Mixed in with the ‘Ferraris’ tasted after hours by show judges is a generous blend of rare old Australian wines, regional specialties from around the world and an eclectic mix of anything anyone regards as interesting. So a day’s judging of Australian wine invariably ends with more tasting and lively discussion in the evening.

This restless examination of what the world and we are up to, reverberates through Australian wineries inspiring innovation in as many directions as there are styles of wine.

What the ‘Ferrari’ wines do is provide inspiration for those aiming for the top. While the French wonder how they can possibly exceed the quality of 1985 Chateaux Margaux, 1978 Domaine de la Romanee Conti Le Montrachet, 1985 Krug Champagne or 1967 Chateau d’Yquem, our winemakers know that our quality limits have yet to be approached. We know we can do better.

From a consumer viewpoint, wine drinking becomes more interesting as we expand our frame of reference, experimenting with previously unknown flavours from France, Spain, Italy and Portugal. And, even if only occasionally, to share one of the acknowledged benchmark greats, provides enormous drinking satisfaction as well as blowing the possibilities even more wide open.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2007