Crown Ambassador 2009 — top beer, pity about the price

After last week’s column on vintage beer, Foster’s obliged with a sample of Crown Ambassador Lager 2009. We share it with a dozen or so keen tasters:

Spreadsheet Tom turned from his computer and admiring the sleek, black, gold-embossed bottle, said thoughtfully, “It’s actually $35, not $70”.  Seeing our puzzled faces, he explained, “Look, it’s 10 per cent alcohol, and normal beer’s only five – so you’re really getting two bottles”.

But the air of reverence persisted. We carefully cut the plastic faux-wax and levered the cap from our Crown Ambassador 2009 Reserve Lager – one of only 6,000 in the whole world. Our expectations ran high – the stately, black, magnet-sealed box; the elegant bottle; the promise of heady aromas, unctuous flavours; and the price. Could any beer be worth that much?
And the beer was marvellous – as aromatic, opulent and complex as you could imagine. It’s not on the same planet as normal Crown Lager. The high alcohol (10.2%), generous crystal malt flavour, ale-like fruitiness, heady aroma of galaxy hops (from Myrtleford, Victoria) and bottle fermentation put it in the top ranks of Australian beers built for ageing.
I still wouldn’t buy a bottle at $70, despite Spreadsheet Tom’s optimism. But you can see where Crown’s headed with this. The packaging and price create great expectations; and the beer delivers on the promise. But beer lovers can enjoy any number of equally good brews, in plain packaging, for a fraction of the price.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2009

Wine review — Voyager Estate and Grant Burge

Voyager Estate Margaret River ‘Girt by Sea’ Cabernet Merlot 2007 $20–$24
Voyager Estate’s ‘Girt by Sea’ is to Margaret River what Majella’s ‘The Musician’ is to Coonawarra – a richly-flavoured, finely-structured, medium-bodied red built to drink now but without losing regional identity. ‘Girt by Sea’ reveals Margaret River’s greatest winemaking strength – blending cabernet sauvignon and merlot to produce a harmonious red, based on ripe berry aromas and flavours and backed by fine, savoury tannins – a delicious luncheon red. It’s sourced from Voyager’s ‘north block’ vineyard and the vines are up to 15 years old.

Grant Burge Barossa

  • Hillcot Merlot 2008 $17–$22
  • Cameron Vale Cabernet Sauvignon 2007 $19–$25

Grant Burge’s substantial vineyard holdings cluster around the cooler southern end of the Barossa Valley in the vicinity of Williamstown – with one outlier, Corryton Park, located further east in the higher, cooler Eden Valley (but still part of the Barossa zone). Grant planted the Hillcot Vineyard to merlot in 1982 (claiming it as the Barossa’s first planting of the variety). It’s medium bodied with an appealing plummy ripeness and firm, but not hard drying tannins and a sympathetic kiss of oak. The cabernet’s a little fuller, but still finely built with clear, ripe varietal flavour and structure.

Grant Burge Baross

  • Daly Road Shiraz Mourvedre 2008 $17–$22
  • Miamba Shiraz 2007 $19–$25

But when it comes to the Barossa, the real excitement invariably lies in shiraz, either on its own or blended with the other Rhone Valley varieties. Miamba captures the ripe, tender, juicy charm of Barossa shiraz. It’s gentle and easy to drink, but there’s sufficient tannin (from both fruit and oak) to give very satisfying drinking – and probably enough to guarantee four or five years in the cellar. It’s named for, and at least partially sourced from, Burge’s Miamba vineyard. Daly Road is another classic Barossa style, combining the juicy softness of shiraz with the spicy, earthy firmness of mourvedre.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2009

Jim Barry Wines, delicious old rieslings and a great Clare vineyard

In the Clare Valley a couple of weeks back Jim Barry Wines hosted its fiftieth anniversary celebrations. The highlight was a tasting of memorable Jim Barry, Leo Buring, Lindemans and Richmond Grove rieslings from vintages 1972 to 1998.

And what lovely twists there were to the tasting: the beautiful old Leo Buring wines came from a vineyard that now belongs to the Barry family; the Jim Barry wines came from a vineyard that the family no longer owns; and the sole Richmond Grove wine, the youngest in the line up, came from the same vineyard as the old Buring wines. And it was made by same winemaker, John Vickery, in the same (but now renamed) winery where he’d first made wine for Leo Buring in 1955.

The thread linking all this is the Florita vineyard at Watervale, located towards the southern end of the Clare Valley. This was the source, acknowledged in the fine print of the labels, of the legendary, long-lived Leo Buring Reserve Bin Rhine Rieslings of the sixties, seventies and early eighties.

When Lindemans put Florita on the market in 1986, Jim Barry saw a unique opportunity to grab one of the region’s great and proven vineyards. But it was tough times in the industry and, according to Jim’s son Peter, Nancy (Jim’s wife) said to Jim, ‘you don’t want it’. But he did.

So Jim said to his sons, Peter, Mark and John, ‘mum won’t let me, so you boys had better do it’. And they did. Peter recalls the financial stretch, approaching several banks ‘with figures to back the lie – bullshit on paper. Several banks knocked it back, one accepted it, lent us money and we made it work’. It’s that sort of vision and risk taking that makes or breaks businesses.

To help fund the purchase, the Barrys sold a corner of Florita to Ian Sanders (the corner became Clos Clare) and another vineyard in Watervale, source of their earlier Watervale rieslings. They also sold Florita material, as juice, to other makers, including Richmond Grove (owned by Pernod Ricard and located in Leo Burings old winery at Tanunda, Barossa Valley).

Twenty-three years on, the entire Florita vineyard is back in family hands and it provides fruit for three labels – Jim Barry Watervale Riesling ($15), Jim Barry The Florita Watervale Riesling ($45) and Clos Clare Watervale Riesling ($24). The Barrys also offer a riesling ($19) from their Lodge Hill Vineyard in the northern Clare.

As we tasted the older riesling Peter Barry recalled that John Vickery at Burings had the technological over his dad in the seventies, and it wasn’t until the eighties that Jim Barry Wines acquired essential refrigeration and other protective technology that Burings had enjoyed since the sixties.

The gap shows in the extra vivacity of the old Buring wines – like the beautiful Reserve Bins DW C15 Watervale Rhine Riesling 1973 and DW G37 Watervale Rhine Riesling 1977. Even so the older Jim Barry wines from1972, 1974 and 1977 in particular drink well, albeit in a rounder, softer style than the Buring wines.

But the gap has been closed in recent times and I’ve no doubt that Jim Barry The Florita and Clos Clare will equal the great wines made by John Vickery so sustainably over so many decades – especially now that we have screw caps protecting these beautiful wines.

The best vintages will be as delicious at almost forty years as they are at one. The connection, of course, is the Florita vineyard. You can see it by searching ‘Old Road Watervale South Australia’ on Google Earth or maps.google.com – it’s the vineyard furthest from Cemetery Road. The little plot on the corner near the cottage is Clos Clare. It’s a great Australian regional story to be explored primarily in the glass.

Florita Vineyard timeline

1940s
Leo Buring purchases the Florita site. He plants pedro ximenez and palomino for sherry making and, believes former Buring employee John Vickery, perhaps small amounts of crouchen, trebbiano and shiraz.

1955
John Vickery joins Leo Buring at Chateau Leonay (now Richmond Grove), Barossa Valley. John makes table wine and sherry.

1950s
Among the wines Vickery makes is a fino sherry sold under Buring’s ‘Florita Fino’ label. This is probably the first label to bear the vineyard name. Leo Buring established the solera before Vickery’s arrival.

1961
Leo Buring dies at 85 years.

1962
Lindemans, under Ray Kidd, purchases Buring’s business, retaining Vickery as winemaker. At about the same time Kidd replants Florita almost entirely to riesling, leaving about one hectare of crouchen.

1963
In time for vintage, Lindemans installs protective winemaking equipment, enabling production of riesling and other crisp, fruity whites in a style pioneered by Colin Gramp, of Orlando, in the 1950s. The stage is set for Vickery to make his legendary Eden and Clare Valley rieslings, the latter from the Florita vineyard.

1960s, 1970s, 1980s
Vickery’s Leo Buring rieslings, including those from Florita, become Australian benchmarks.

1986 and thereabouts
Lindemans, now owned by Phillip Morris, sells Florita vineyard to Jim Barry Wines.  Lindemans retains the Florita trademark.  To help fund their purchase (it was a stretch, says Peter) the Barry family sells a two-hectare corner with vines and a cottage to Ian Sanders. Sanders names this corner Clos Clare. The Clos Clare wines are made by Tim Knappstein and then Jeffrey Grosset. (Sanders later sells Clos Clare to Noel Kelly. Wines are then made at O’Leary Walker).

The Barrys immediately graft the one-hectare of crouchen, planted by Lindemans in the 1960s, to sauvignon blanc. Four years later they grub this out and plant riesling. Florita vineyard is for the first time planted entirely to the variety that made it famous.
1994–2003

The Barry family sells juice from riesling grown on the Florita vineyard to John Vickery, now working in Orlando’s Richmond Grove Winery (formerly Chateau Leonay). From 1994 to 2003 Richmond Grove Watervale Riesling contains material from Florita.

2004
The Florita trademark lapses and the Barry family takes it up, allowing the launch of Jim Barry ‘The Florita’ Riesling 2004.

2007
The Barry family buys back the lost corner of Florita. Peter Barry’s sons Tom and Sam run Clos Clare as a separate business, making the wine at John and Daniel Wilson’s Polish Hill River winery.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2009

Beer review — Moo Brew and Schwelmer Pils

Moo Brew Hefeweizen 330ml $5.50
This is brewed at Moorilla Estate, Tasmania, and it’s as good now as the first brews were a few years back. It’s bottle conditioned and in the Bavarian style – big on banana-like aromas, with a soft, very fresh palate, finishing with crisp acidity rather than hops bitterness.

Schwelmer Pils 500ml swing-top $5.95
This was probably a lovely beer once. Even though it’s stale and cloudy now, there’s ¬ a residue of malty richness and hearty, tangy hops. But there it was in the fridge at Canberra Cellars Braddon. Silly me didn’t see the ‘best before 08 07 09’ tag, did I.

Book review — The Australian beer companion, Willie Simpson, $49.95

This is the book Australian beer drinkers have been waiting for – a succinct chronicle of who’s brewing what, where. It’s written by journalist, turned specialty beer writer, turned brewer, Willie Simpson – an experienced beer sampler and keen judge of what’s important about each of the breweries described in the book.

The book starts with a few beer essentials: what goes into beer (including a brief history of hop-growing in Australia) and a summary of the major beer styles we’re likely to encounter. It’s jargon-free and written in plain English, but not dumbed down.

After that it’s a state-by-state tour of our brewers, big and small, starting with Willie’s top-five ranking. In the NSW and ACT section, for example, his selections are James Squire Pilsner, Wicked Elf Pale Ale, Wig & Pen IPA, Redoak Framboise Froment and Murray’s Dark Knight – an eclectic mix that includes beers from Australia’s second largest brewer (Lion Nathan’s James Squire) and Canberra’s tiny Wig & Pen.

The maps help us put the breweries in a place. And the pictures have been thoughtfully shot, capturing the personalities behind the beers as well as their breweries and products.

And the press release came with a wonderful Henry Lawson quote, “Beer makes you feel the way you ought to feel without beer”.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2009

Wine review — Wynns Coonawarra Estate

Wynns Coonawarra Estate Shiraz 2008 $10–$20
It’s just released, the bottle price hit $15.99 by the dozen immediately – and since publishing this review in The Canberra Times has hit $9.90 — a screaming bargain. Stock up as this is an exciting red with a fifty-year pedigree. It’s a beautifully aromatic, vibrant, cool climate shiraz featuring ripe but spicy and juicy fruit flavours and ever-so-fine, soft tannins. It’s sourced from central and northern Coonawarra and matured for just six months in older French and American oak barrels. I suspect, however, that another few months in oak and an extra year in bottle might have taken this to an even higher level. Best drinking from 2010 and for many years thereafter.

Wynns Coonawarra Estate  ‘Black Label’ Cabernet Sauvignon 2007 $26–$32
A severe frost in October 2006 nipped much of the 2007 vintage in the bud, reducing production of Black Label by 80 per cent. What’s left, though, is a world-class cabernet, at the elegant end of the Coonawarra spectrum. The colour’s vibrant and limpid. And though the aroma’s ripe and purely varietal, the palate is medium bodied, with the unique, and delicious, underlying power and structure of Coonawarra cabernet.  It’s already drinkable and showing some savoury notes. But there’s the depth and harmony here for a good ten years, probably more, in a good cellar.

Wynns Coonawarra Estate Alex 88 Cabernet Sauvignon 2006 $31–$39
Wynns Coonawarra Estate John Riddoch Coonawarra Cabernet Sauvignon 2006 $61–$76

Alex 88 comes from a single vineyard, one kilometre north of Wynns winery. It’s been the source of some of Wynns best cabernet for some years. It contrasts with the more elegant Black Label (even given the general greater richness of the 2006s). It’s matured in all new French oak – a perfect combination – plush, complex wine and appealing now, but with potential to age for decades. John Riddoch 2006 is as good as we’ve seen since the first vintage in 1982. It’s excitingly floral and seductive, silky textured, powerfully concentrated and with authoritative tannins – made unequivocally for long cellaring.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2009

Oak jokes are old hat

In the early days of chardonnay in Australia we probably all gagged on an over oaked vintage and heard the usual jokes… splinters in the tongue, build a weekender out of it… the list went on. Perhaps the most colourful metaphor, though, was penned about ten years ago by UK writer Jilly Goolden.

In The Independent there was a regular section called “You ask the Questions”, and one reader asked:
‘Is it true that on a food and drink Christmas special you described a particular wine as having the properties of a “wooden bra”?  If this is true, what exactly would a wooden bra taste of, and when should one wear one?!’

Jilly’s response: ‘A wooden bra!  Yes, I confess, I referred to such a thing in a manner of speaking. What I in fact said is that the oak in a heavily oaked Chardonnay supports the fruit, like a bra, rounding it up and filling it out. I wasn’t saying it smelt or tasted of a wooden bra.  I’m not quite that dippy’.”

By that time wooden bra syndrome barely rated a mention in Australia as our winemakers had moved on ¬– although there were lingering occurrences of another chardonnay support: the silicone implant.

Before I explain that, let’s look at why so many of our early chardonnays tasted so heavily of oak. There are several reasons why this was so.

Firstly, our winemakers had to learn, on the run, how to deal with what was for them a new variety, demanding new skills. (In the early eighties, chardonnay barely rated a mention in our viticultural statistics. Now it runs neck and neck with shiraz as our biggest variety. We crushed 450 thousand tonnes in 209, enough to make about 33 million dozen bottles).

Perhaps the biggest challenge, as Jilly’s metaphor suggests, was to fill the middle palate and add complexity to large volume chardonnays. These really needed a little help, being made, as they were, from the fruit of high-yielding, immature vines.

Without a natural intensity of fruit flavour, winemaker inputs tended to count more than nature’s. Thus we had – as well as the flavours derived from fermentation and maturation in oak barrels or on oak chips – a barrage of flavour- and texture-adding techniques including must holding, hyper-oxidation, lees contact and stirring, fermentation on skins and other grape solids and malo-lactic fermentation.

Several internationally successful commercial chardonnays, conspicuously Lindemans Bin 65 and Jacobs Creek, emerged in this era. However, the ‘wooden bra’ brigade, for a time greatly outnumbered these more subtle creations.

Winemakers had yet to learn how to use oak. It took time to learn that timing was all important; that fermenting wine in oak worked better than putting finished wine in; that all-new oak was too much for most wines; that some sorts of oak worked more sympathetically than others; and that every wine needed its own oak regime.

Despite the ‘wooden bra’ syndrome, chardonnay production doubled every four or so years until the around the turn of the century, such was the demand. It subsequently fell out of vogue with drinkers, overtaken by the Marlborough-led sauvignon blanc express.

But there’s much to be said for chardonnay. In my view it makes the most complex and interesting whites on the planet, and what we make in Australia today bears little resemblance to the oaky versions we made twenty years ago. Our winemakers moved on rapidly from those styles – driven partly by consumer demand and partly by their own perceptions.

When consumers said ‘too much oak’, some winemakers over-reacted by burning the bra. In the mid nineties they gave us the unoaked’ chardonnay. It tried, and failed, to be what sauvignon blanc is today. Len Evans called it a con, and he was right.

Other makers pursued the more palatable, two-pronged approach of refining the bra and, to extend Jilly’s metaphor, using better breasts: mature vines and improved viticultural practice produced tastier grapes and better wines.

By now makers had also learned how to use oak sympathetically to create truly complex wines from this wonderful grape variety.

However, as the oak tide receded, some chardonnays became more buxom through the ‘silicone implant’ effect of malo-lactic fermentation. This natural process of converting malic acid to lactic acid tends to produce unctuous buttery flavours. A little bit adds complexity and texture; but too much is too much.

For mainstream chardonnay makers that was just another lesson to be learned on the way to the finer styles we now enjoy. Most of the broad learnings were in place by 2000. But we’ve continued to improve since then and today our top chardonnays are world class.

While the best tend to be fermented and matured in oak, vibrant, delicious fruit is the core flavour. Oak and all the other tastes, aromas and textures associated with time in barrel work harmoniously with the fruit. Chardonnay has moved on. The oak jokes no longer apply.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2009

Vintage Beer — Coopers takes the crown

Q. What’s the difference between ‘luxury’ vintage beer and ‘extra strong’ vintage beer? A. $60.59 a bottle (750ml equivalent). That’s the price gap between recently released Coopers Extra Strong Vintage Ale 2009 ($4.70 375ml at Plonk, Fyshwick) and Foster’s Crown Ambassador Reserve 2009 Lager ($69.99 750ml recommended) released on 3 August.

How the two compare I don’t know. I’ve tried the Coopers and it’s terrific – consistent with eight previous vintages. But there’s no Crown sample, no invitation to share the Queen’s bottle – and I’m not crazy enough to spend seventy bucks on a long neck. Can any beer be that good?

Perhaps a cache for the retirement fund? If you’re tempted, remember the ‘collector’ ports of the late seventies. They turned out to be dust collectors.

On value, Coopers Extra Strong Vintage Ale 2009 looks the better bet. This is the ninth release. And the older vintages in the Schloss Shanahan cellar still drink well – the fruitiness and bitterness giving way with age to mellow, malt-related caramel flavours.

Foster’s makes pace-setting beers – like Matilda Bay Alpha Pale Ale and Chloe’s Naked Ale – so Crown Ambassador Lager is a probably a cracker. But at $70, I’m not buying it.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2009

Beer review — Cooper’s Vintage Ale 2009 and Newcastle Brown

Coopers Extra Strong Vintage Ale 2009 375ml $4.70
The five-star rating acknowledges delicious back vintages as well as the current release. It’s built to last, the preservatives being high alcohol (7.5%), assertive hops, deep malt flavours and bottle conditioning (living yeast in the bottle when packaged). It’s robust, fruity, malty and bitter – but harmonious. Drink now, but hold a few for later enjoyment.

Newcastle Brown Ale 330ml $3.75
While this is on the blander end of the ale scale, it’s only modestly alcoholic at 4.7 per cent, and offers attractive toffee and caramel like aromas and flavours. Together with the sweet, malt character this gives an attractive warming effect, while a decent tweak of hops dries the finish out nicely

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2009

Wine review — Taylors and Wicks Estate

Taylors Clare Valley $14.90–$19

  • Shiraz 2007
  • Cabernet Sauvignon 2007
  • Merlot 2007

Bill Taylor established the family vineyard in the Clare Valley in 1972. Today it’s one of our biggest family makers, producing around 600 thousand cases a year, principally from its 550-hectare Clare vineyard. The reds share an earthy savouriness though I prefer the shiraz of the three. It’s ripe, warm, generous and soft but savoury. The merlot is leaner, though ripe, with firm, mouth-drying tannins that’d fit well with savoury food. The cabernet reveals its varietal character more in its firm structure than in the aroma or flavour – a solid red that’d be tempered well by the protein in a slab or rare red meat.

Wicks Estate Adelaide Hills

  • Riesling 2008 $18
  • Sauvignon Blanc $18
  • Chardonnay $18

These and the reds below are brilliant wines at the price – sourced from a 39-hectare Adelaide Hills vineyard, belonging to Tim and Simon Wicks, and made by Tim Knappstein and Leigh Ratzmer. The riesling’s full flavoured but finely structured and ready to enjoy now. The sauvignon blanc’s light and zesty, revealing mainly the herbal end of the sauv blanc spectrum but with a tropical touch and sufficient mid-palate flesh to make it interesting. The chardonnay’s lovely. It’s partly barrel fermented, giving depth and complexity, but it’s also deliciously fresh and fuller flavoured than the sauvignon blanc.

Wicks Estate Adelaide Hills

  • Shiraz 2007 $20
  • Cabernet Sauvignon 2007 $20
  • Eminence Shiraz Cabernet Sauvignon $60

The shiraz is simply beautiful at this price: ripe, fine, supple and….glug, glug, glug, the bottle’s all gone. Say no more. And for just triple the price, step up to Eminence, a wine worthy of its name – deep, complex, sweet-fruited and harmonious. It’s predominantly shiraz, source of all that richness and the soft, velvety texture; the cabernet component sits in the background, giving backbone but not overtly affecting flavour. The cabernet has a leafy character in the aroma and flavour, a result of the cool growing conditions. It’s a decent drop, a bit soft for cabernet, and not in the league of the shiraz.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2009