Do we really need to breathe or decant high quality wines to get the most enjoyment from them? For most wines, the answer is no. Breathing is almost never necessary and often detrimental. And the only practical reason for decanting is to separate clear wine from sediment in the bottle.

The idea of breathing wine almost certainly dates to a time when winemaking was more rustic than it is today. Without the rigorous controls of modern winemaking, many a bottle held traces of smelly aromas and flavours – principally sulphide compounds.

These are natural products of fermentation and because they are reductive – formed in the absence of air – the traditional method of elimination was by racking wine: moving it from one vessel to another in the presence of air. Winemakers still do this with red wines today.

Because racking doesn’t eliminate all sulphides, modern winemakers, where necessary, remove the traces by adding small amounts of copper sulphate, sometimes determining the need to do so by a simple triple-blind test.

This means taking a wine sample, pouring it to three identical glasses and adding a trace of copper sulphate to only one glass. Put the three unmarked glasses to a winemaker, and if one glass smells different from the other two, then sulphides are indicated and the wine is appropriately fined.

Interestingly, the advent of the screw cap in recent years forced winemakers to be doubly diligent in the search for sulphides. Because the cap is a far more effective barrier to air than cork, some of the earlier bottles showed signs of reduction.

That such a tiny ingress of air through cork kept sulphides below the human aroma threshold is a clear illustration of why breathing wine was once all the go: smelly wines could be cleaned up by a good splash from bottle to decanter – effectively a final racking.

So, unless we find a stinky bottle, there’s no need to aerate it. And if we do find one, give a good gurgle into a jug or just splash it around in a glass. Simply pulling the cork and leaving the bottle open won’t work because the surface of wine exposed to air is insignificant.

And what of the belief that exposure to air releases the aromas and flavours of sturdy young reds? Well, there’s not a lot of science to support the notion. Indeed, quite the reverse appears to be true as prolonged exposure to air disburses a wine’s positive attributes.

Modern winemaking, too, means that fewer wines throw a sediment or ‘crust’ and therefore the need for decanting is much less than it was.

Cold stabilisation means that white wines seldom lose excess tartaric acid prior to bottling. Hence, it’s rare, albeit not unknown, to see deposits of tartrate crystals in bottles or on corks as we once did.

Filtration prior to bottling also reduces sedimentation in most commercial red wines. However, many of our more robust wines still drop sediment as they age.

As this looks terrible in the glass and tastes gritty and bitter, it’s easily removed by decanting. Simply stand the bottle up twenty-four hours beforehand then, particularly in the case of very old wines, open and decant immediately prior to serving.

Fine crystal decanters certainly add a sense of occasion. But if you don’t have one, decant to any clean jug, wash the bottle, then tip the wine back in. Now, take a sip and breathe easy.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2006 & 2007

While older drinkers might remember Seppelt for everything from sherry to bubbly to long-lived reds, younger people may have noticed nothing more than the amazingly good reds and whites now appearing under its retro label.

This striking suite of wines from western and south western Victoria — while owing much to the current winemaking team – have been built on an a much older culture that survived waves of industry consolidation.

Seppelt’s reputation was built largely on great fortified wines, produced at Seppeltsfield in the Barossa along with sparkling wines and, on a much smaller scale, superb, long-lived reds from Great Western, Victoria.

Then in 1964, Karl Seppelt, with remarkable prescience, foresaw the coming table wine boom and established vineyards at Padthaway, four hundred-odd kilometres south of the Barossa and at Drumborg near Portland in southwestern Victoria.

Despite Karl’s foresight, the company struggled and, in a wave of industry rationalisation, was acquired by South Australian Brewing Holdings in 1984. Then, in 1990, SABH acquired Lindemans from Philip Morris and Penfolds from Adsteam.

The conglomeration became Penfolds Wine Group but this became Southcorp Wines when SABH sold its brewery division in 1993.

Throughout this intensive blending of wine cultures, James Godfrey held (and still does) the fortified reins at Seppeltsfield while Great Western based Ian McKenzie supervised Seppelt winemaking overall.

Inevitably, rationalisation meant change. But the formidable fortified resources at Seppeltsfield remained intact. And McKenzie – aided by a mid nineties Victorian vineyard expansion — led both a rejuvenation of the Seppelt Victorian red styles and the development of top end whites and sparkling wines.

The reds were inspired mainly by those made at Great Western by Colin Preece in the forties, fifties and sixties – which, in turn, had been preceded by extraordinary early twentieth century vintages from the St Peters Vineyard, next to the winery.

While the cold, windswept Drumborg vineyard struggled for decades, renewed investment and improved management techniques saw the vineyard producing flashes of brilliance during the eighties and sustained high quality by the late nineties.

By the end of Macka’s stewardship in 2002 the Seppelt reds – led by St Peters Vineyard Shiraz (formerly called Reserve Shiraz) – were back amongst the most highly regarded in the country and the new whites, led by riesling and chardonnay from the Drumborg vineyard, showed a unique finesse and intensity.

And now, four years into Arthur O’Connor’s stewardship, we’re enjoying not just the Great Western and Drumborg wines but an expanded Victorian range based on vineyards – particularly the Glenlofty Pyrenees site — established in the mid nineties.

It’s really the culmination of one hundred years work, piled layer on layer and, finally, being brought to market in a coherent manner. Those new ‘old’ Seppelt labels really do convey something of this continuity – and the exceptional quality of the wines.

Seppelt Coborra Pinot Gris 2005 $25 to $29
This is a striking and individual pinot gris that appeals as soon as it’s poured. The brilliant pale straw colour promises the great freshness that follows. There’s lots of aroma here with pear-like fruit and a mineral edge. The palate is intense, pear like, and very finely structured for this variety. A taut, steely acid backbone seems to intensify the fruit flavour and carry it right across the palate leaving the mouth really refreshed and looking for the next sip. The fine-ness and intensity probably mean an interesting and slow flavour evolution in the bottle for those with good cellaring conditions.

Seppelt Jaluka Drumborg Chardonnay 2005 $25 to $29
Twenty years after it was planted Drumborg vineyard produced outstanding chardonnay sparkling wine. Another decade on, in the mid nineties, it produced classy chardonnay table wine – sometimes good enough for Penfolds flagship white, Yattarna. Now the vineyard’s fruit stands on its own. This one, made by Emma Wood, has at its heart the restrained, grapefruit-like varietal flavour of very-cool climate chardonnay, supported by lovely inputs of barrel fermentation and contact with yeast lees. It’s a rich but delicate delight to drink now but is of a style to evolve with careful cellaring for five or six years.

Seppelt Chalambar Grampian Bendigo Shiraz 2004 $25 to $29
Seppelt Victorian Shiraz 2004 $13 to $18
Above these two Seppelt reds sit the sublime St Peters and Benno shirazes. These establish a familial style based on richness with cool-climate structure, albeit with a distinct character to each wine. Victorian Shiraz is the often-discounted entry-level wine that invariably surprises new drinkers with its one-more-glass-please drinkability. Chalambar is the resurrection of a hallowed-then-devalued old Seppelt brand. The 2004 is sensational. It has the beautifully, floral perfumed lift of top cool-climate shiraz and all the supple, sweet, palate richness that goes with it. That means opulence without heaviness and enormous drinking pleasure. This is a very impressive wine.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2006 & 2007

In late April The Australian Wine and Brandy Corporation tipped a 2006 grape harvest of around 1.96 million tonnes – about one per cent down on last year’s record harvest.

AWBC’s estimate includes the assumption that, just like last year, two to three per cent of the 2006 vintage will be left on the vine or cast on the ground to rot.

With an estimated 900 million litres of excess stock in storage – and this year’s harvest running early – word is that storage capacity is stretched to capacity and the damaging surplus will be with us for a few years yet.

And the surplus may have been greater still had growers in some regions not responded to prospective lower prices and volume caps imposed by winemakers.

Grape yields “… were down five per cent in the Murray Valley and down ten per cent in the Riverland… due to low prices and tonnage caps. Many of the cooler climate regions also expected lower tonnages for similar reasons. For example, Langhorne Creek was down five per cent, McLaren Vale down eight per cent and Mudgee down ten per cent”, writes the AWBC.

But the warm, high-yielding Riverina increased its output by twenty per cent “on the back of winery capacity expansions in the area” – which I think we can safely assume means on the success of Casella’s ten million case a year Yellowtail brand.

Given the glut, it was somewhat surprising to learn of plans to add another 1800 hectares of vines to the 164 thousand that already exist in Australia.

On April 27th The Sydney Morning Herald quoted Mark McKenzie, executive director of Wine Grape Growers Australia, as saying “It beggars belief that some investment promoters are continuing to push large new vineyard plantings when the industry is struggling to digest current levels of production”.

But just to prove that booms, busts, gluts and surpluses seldom spread pleasure or pain evenly, the proposed plantings were defended by developer, Antonio de Francesca, and Winemakers Federation of Australia President, Stephen Strachan.

How could he be adding to the surplus Francesca, reportedly said, when a planned new 207-hectare development was pre-contracted to winemakers. And Strachan acknowledged that there can specific needs to be met – especially when we look at where demand might be in four or five years.

Writing in AWBC publication, ‘Wine Australia’, head of Hardy Wine Company, David Woods called the uneven spread of the glut a structural imbalance.

He wrote, “Approximately fifteen to twenty per cent of wine sold globally can profitably afford to come from what we loosely call cool climate regions, but in Australia currently as an industry forty per cent of our production from the last two vintages has been cool climate”.

In a nutshell that means that we have too many of our vineyards in high cost regions and not enough in low cost regions. Since winemakers produce to specific prince points, then they’ll pay only what that price point demands.

All of which says that for consumers vintage 1996 ensures that the good times will continue to roll. We can look forward to low prices for the foreseeable future.

But for uncontracted growers — or even those with contracts that allow lower tonnages or lower prices – it’s been another disastrous year.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan

The flavours found in Asian cuisine vary from the pure, unadorned simplicity of natural produce – as we see in Japanese food – to the most complex blends of meat, vegetable, fungus, spices, herbs and piquant sauces. The spectrum of textures is similarly wide, ranging from watery to soft and creamy to rubbery to hard and crunchy.

This broad palate of food flavours and textures, despite having been developed largely in the absence of wine, sit remarkably well with the fresh, fruity styles of wine we make in Australia, making the dining experience more pleasant.

Starting at the delicate end of the spectrum, Japanese cuisine tends to focus on food in or near its natural state with little or no seasoning other than soy or wasabi to be added at the discretion of the diner. Even the tempura batters are light and delicate in comparison to the fried foods in other cuisines.

These delicate, pure flavours tend to be swamped by overly rich wines. So it’s a no-brainer really to pair Japanese food with fine, subtle wines: dry Australian riesling works well because it’s big on floral aromas and flavours, finely textured and refreshingly crisp.

Hunter semillon offers similar delicacy though with flavours more akin to lemon and lemongrass. And amongst the reds, cool climate pinot noir (Tassie, Mornington Peninsula, New Zealand, for example) deliver delicious fruit flavours that generally won’t stomp all over delicate food.

Unlike chilli, the hot spot in Japanese food – wasabi – presents little barrier to delicate wine flavours. Wasabi’s intense heat burst goes straight up the spout, leaving the palate refreshed and receptive for whatever follows.

Chilli heat, on the other hand, lingers, knocking out delicate wine flavours. No matter what the cuisine, if heat’s a big focus, wine and beer tend to provide background flavours only. Options include cheaper, well-chilled neutral wines or commercial lagers.  Or highly hopped beers — especially the Pilsen styles from Bohemia, Germany and Australia’s smaller brewers – offer a more assertive flavour struggle between chilli heat and hops bitterness.

I also find that no or low-oak grenache from Clare Valley, Barossa Valley and McLaren Vale – perhaps because of the high level of perfume and fruitiness – stand some chance against chilli and other highly spiced foods.

Because much of the Asian food we enjoy comes assertively spiced or with pungent or salty sauces and we tend share dishes, moving from one flavour grouping to another, it’s worth popping several different wines on the table to broaden the flavour palette.

If riesling seems to be the most versatile variety, it’s certainly not on its own. For a pungent, intensely fruity bone-dry thrill, try a Marlborough or Adelaide Hills Sauvignon Blanc. Or for something a little more restrained but still with lots of flavour and lean, drying refreshment, semillon sauvignon blanc blends are terrific – especially those from Margaret River, Western Australia.

Pinot Gris (aka pinot grigio) varies enormously in style and quality but, in general, sits well with a range of Asian food styles. Viognier, with its exotic apricot-like flavours and viscous textures, deserves to be a star in its own right, to works best with rich not too piquant food. And gewurtztraminer – a rare beast these days – has some of the versatility of riesling despite its love-it or hate-it musky flavour.

In these order-and-share situations, traditional gutsy Aussie reds probably don’t hold their own as well as light to medium bodied styles that emphasise either bright fruity flavours or savoury and earthy characters.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2006 & 2007