Memories of being nine years old and Sunday afternoons return with each sip of this wine.
Here’s an astonishingly accurate description:
Opaque black ruby color. Bright, nutty aromas and flavors of butter roasted nuts, blueberry pie crust, and blooming forest floor with an even, tangy, dry-yet-fruity medium-full body and a warming, complex, medium-length peppercorn, vanilla praline, cedar, and hint of caramelized bacon finish with crunchy, woody tannins and moderate oak. A mellow, crunchy shiraz for carefree enjoyment.
My vision is more personal, of still air, lingering dust on unpaved roads through vineyards, shadows from a low sun, and chills of happiness.
McLaren Vale is a state of mind, which is an awful marketing-sounding description of something that really exists. Well, that exists in memory, which is almost the same thing.
This wine was like a country road in McLaren Vale on a windless day. A car would drive past, leaving disturbed dust in the air, which would remain suspended in shafts of light created by the sunlight leaking through gaps between eucalyptus trees. Australians call them gum trees, but, whatev.
A high-pressure system would be sitting above South Australia for this to happen, a happily frequent event in late summer and throughout the winter. I wonder if grapes react to the weight of the atmosphere above them?
Dry and fruity ( not easy to pull off), dried figs and dried strawberry, cedar, that pie crust thing, vanilla (light) and very mild black peppercorn. In spirity, it’s SA, in style it’s more France.