Wine Flicks | Tony Bracy

           

25 April 2020

It seems a long time since feel-good wine movies were all the rage at the local cinema. But if you ignore some ‘golden oldies’ like This Earth is Mine (1959), The Secret of Santa Vittoria (1969), Fine Gold (1989) and The Year of The Comet (1992), the rush of wine movies was a reasonably contemporary thing.

More recently there were also wine documentaries including Somm (2012), A Year in Champagne (2014), Sour Grapes (2016) and Tin City (2019), all worth seeing, but I’m not sure whether the 2017 French wine drama Back to Burgundy was ever released here.

If you are interested in something completely different you might like to try the new Netflix movie Uncorked if and when it becomes available here. Released in the USA on 27 March and written and directed by Prentice Penny, it tells the story of Elijah, a young black man (Mamoudou Athie), who upsets his father Louis (Courtney B. Vance) when he pursues his dream of becoming a master sommelier instead of joining the family BBQ business. However, for now let’s focus on what we have already seen at the cinema.

The first of the more modern wine movies was Sideways in 2004 which was followed in 2006 by A Good Year and Bottle Shock two years later and that four-year period was a mere twelve to sixteen years ago. As the memory of those feel-good movies lives on for many of us, I thought I would revisit some of the notable moments in each of them to refresh a few remembrances, including my own. And thanks to scripts.com and script-o-rama.com for making so many great wine words possible. It has added soul to the heart of this piece.

Sideways

PICTURED ABOVE: MILES & JACK WINE TASTING

It is hard to list your favourite wine movies without including Sideways, an independent film with screenplay by Alexander Payne and Jim Taylor based on the 1999 novel by Rex Pickett. The story featured a “boys away” week in the Santa Ynez Valley in California’s Central Coast Santa Barbara wine country by friends Miles, a failed writer with a novel awaiting a publisher’s verdict played by Paul Giamatti, and Jack, a washed-up actor played by Thomas Haden Church, in the week prior to Jack’s wedding. The two friends had almost completely different objectives for their trip: Miles to taste fine wines, particularly Pinot Noir, and to play golf; Jack to chase women. And, for better or worse, both friends succeeded.

Many movies have inconsistencies and one of those presented in Sideways is that Miles, a Pinot Noir tragic, has a bottle of Bordeaux wine – a Cheval Blanc ’61 Saint-Émilion Premier Grand Cru Classé “A” – as a trophy. This great vintage of Cheval Blanc was a blend of 58% Cabernet Franc and 42% Merlot which could not be more different to Miles’ favourite Pinot Noir. Although it was 43 years old in 2004 and arguably past its prime, Cheval Blanc was then and is still an expensive wine: the more recent 2010 vintage sells here for around $A2,300 a bottle! Miles’ conflicting dislike for Merlot was reflected in the scene outside the Hitching Post II restaurant in Buellton where the boys were to first meet Maya and Stephanie for dinner, Miles reacting to Jack’s “calm down” speech with the memorable line:

“If anyone orders Merlot, I’m leaving. I’m not drinking any f—–g Merlot!”

This sentiment was repeated often throughout the movie, seeing sales of Merlot plummet and sales of Pinot Noir soar in California!

One of my favourite pieces was Miles tutoring Jack at their first wine tasting:

“Let me show you how this is done. First thing hold the glass up and examine the wine against the light. You’re looking for color and clarity. Just, get a sense of it, OK? Uhh, Thick? Thin? Watery? Syrupy? OK? Alright. Now tip it. What you’re doing here is checking for color density as it thins out towards the rim. Uhh, that’s gonna tell you how old it is, among other things. It’s usually more important with reds. OK? Now, stick your nose in it. Don’t be shy, really get your nose in there. Mmm … a little citrus … maybe some strawberry … passionfruit … and, oh, there’s just like the faintest soupçon of like asparagus and just a flutter of a, like a nutty Edam cheese …”

After some discussion and a sympathetic evaluation of the wine just tasted, Miles gave Jack a puzzled look and asked:

“Are you chewing gum?”

To which Jack said “What? No! No …”

And, after a long-drawn-out pause, Miles responded: … “Spit it out.”

Sideways was obviously much more than an anti-Merlot vehicle, it reflected the affection of many for Pinot Noir. The Pinot discussion between Miles and Maya was one of the great verbal wine exchanges on film and was the highlight of the movie for me. You may remember Miles and Maya (Virginia Madsen) enjoying late night wine at Stephanie’s home (Sandra Oh) after that first dinner with the conversation going like this:

Maya:              Can I ask you a personal question, Miles?

Miles:               Sure.

Maya:              Why are you so into Pinot? – It’s like a thing with you.

Miles:               I don’t know. It’s a hard grape to grow. As you know. It’s thin-skinned, temperamental, ripens early. It’s not a survivor like Cabernet that can grow anywhere and thrive even when it’s neglected. No, Pinot needs constant care and attention and in fact can only grow specific little tucked-away corners of the world. And only the most patient and nurturing growers can do it really, can tap into Pinot’s most fragile, delicate qualities. Only when someone has  taken the time to truly understand its potential can Pinot be coaxed into its fullest expression. And when that happens, its flavours are the most haunting and brilliant and subtle and thrilling and ancient on the planet. I mean, Cabernets can be powerful and exalting, but they seem prosaic to me, for some reason. By comparison. How about you?

Maya:              What about me?

Miles:               I don’t know. Why are you into wine?

Maya:              I suppose I got really into wine originally through my ex-husband. He had a big, kind of show-off cellar. But then I found out that I have a really sharp palate, and the more I drank… the more I liked what it made me think about.

Miles:               Yeah? Like what?

Maya:              Like what a fraud he was.

Miles                (laughs)

Maya:              No, but I do like to think about the life of wine, how it’s a living thing. I like to think about what was going on the year the grapes were growing, how the sun was shining that summer or if it rained … what the weather was like. I think about all those people who tended and picked the grapes, and if it’s an old wine, how many of them must be dead by now. I love how wine continues to evolve, how every time I open a bottle it’s going to taste different than if I had opened it on any other day. Because a bottle of wine is actually alive … it’s constantly evolving and gaining complexity. That is, until it peaks … like your ’61 … and begins its steady, inevitable decline. And it tastes so  f—–g good.

Miles                (missing the implied invitation): Yeah.

One of the great wine conversations, I’m sure you’ll agree! And I’m certain you will have other favourite moments from the movie, probably including one of the last scenes where Miles drank his trophy ’61 wine from a poly-styrene cup alone in a fast food restaurant. And, given the quality of the wine, it probably still tasted good, even without company.

In the end Jack did marry his fiancée Christine (Alysia Reiner) in an Armenian ceremony and Miles and Maya finally got together. But while these events mark the end of the movie, the movie itself was all about Jack and Miles in the Santa Barbara wine country.

A Good Year

PICTURED ABOVE: BONNIEUX VILLAGE, PROVEVENCE

This was probably more of a mainstream movie given the people involved: director Ridley Scott (best picture Academy Award Gladiator), book Peter Mayle (A Year in Provence), cast Russell Crowe (best actor Academy Award Gladiator), Marion Cotillard (best actress Academy Award La Vie en Rose) and Albert Finney (nominated for five Academy Awards). Marc Klein’s screenplay created a charming movie in a lovely part of the world, Provence.

The plot based on Mayle’s book A Good Year has Max Skinner (Crowe) who, following the death of his parents, spent childhood holidays at his Uncle Henry Skinner’s vineyard in Provence. Max was a workaholic share trader in London who inherited the French property on the passing of his uncle (Finney) and travelled there to prepare for a quick sale. Once there he met some fascinating characters including a dedicated winemaker, Francis Duflot (Didier Bourdon) who made fine wine from illegal vines on the estate, bypassing France’s strict classification and appellation laws, his wife Ludivine Duflot (Isabelle Candelier), housekeeper at the château, Christie Roberts (Australian Abbie Cornish) a young Napa oenophile backpacking through Europe claiming to be Uncle Henry’s illegitimate daughter and Fanny Chenal (Marion Cotillard) a local café owner who Max caused to crash her bicycle and who became the love of his life.

A Good Year was largely filmed at Château la Canorgue near Bonnieux, a commune in the Provence-Alpes-Côte d’Azur region of southeastern France, approximately 30km east of Avignon. Fanny Chenal’s café was filmed at Hôtel le Renaissance in Gordes, about 10km northwest of Bonnieux.

I have chosen two sequences from the movie. The first was Max meeting Christie:

Ludivine:          Monsieur Max!

Max:                Yes?

Ludivine:          There is, um … a person at the door.

Max:                A person?

Ludivine:          A person.

Christie:           Bonjour.

Max:                Bonjour. The only country that issues teeth like that is America.

Christie:           Oh. You speak English.

Max:                Like a native.

Christie:           I’m Christie Roberts. I’m looking for Mr. Skinner.

Max:                You lucky devil, you found him.

Christie:           Impossible. You’re way too young.

Max:                You know, I was just thinking the same thing about you.

Christie:           I meant too young to be my dad. Henry Skinner is my father.

Ludivine:          She has Henry’s nose. Allez. Allez.

Max:                Wow. This is your mum?

Christie:           In all her Flashdance glory. So, uh … is he around?

Max:                Oh, Bollocks. Um … I’m sorry. I’ve forgotten your name.

Christie:           It’s Christie.

Max:                Christie. You see, Christie, um … Henry …

Christie:           He’s dead, huh?

Max:                A month ago. Um … Cup of tea? Yes?

My other choice was Max visiting Fanny to chat her up at her café and offering to help the busy waitstaff with service:

Max:                Table six? Allez, allez!

Fanny:             What are you doing?

Max:                Don’t worry love, done this before.

Fanny:             Where?

Max:                Worked my way through university at London’s finest restaurants.

Fanny:             Monsieur! Mais qu’est-ce qui se passe? (Sir! What’s going on?)

Max:                Alors? Venez, monsieur! (So, come sir)

Fanny:             Okay, okay. You can serve. But remember if there are any complaints, in France the customer is always wrong. Table six.

Max:                Table six. Bonsoir … Table?

Local diner:     Uh … 16

Max:                Champagne?

Local diner:     Yes., cheers.

Max:                And what are we going to have here?

US diner 1:      Garkin! Garkin! (a superficial and unsuccessful attempt to “speak the lingo?”) Get over here. I need, need help over here.

Max:                En deux minutes, monsieur.

US diner 1:      Where you going? Garkin!

US diner 2:      Oh, do you speak American? ‘Cause this menu is all in French and we don’t understand it.

US diner 1:      Yeah, we need some silverware.

US diner 2:      But, uh, let me tell you what I would like to have. I would like a salad “Nicoisee …” with ranch dressing on it.

US diner 1:      Wait, wait, baby, low-cal ranch dressing.

US diner 2:      Oh, that’s right. I’m still on my diet. So, I would like low-cal ranch dressing with no oil. And could you sprinkle some bacon bits on top?

Max :                (removing the menus and pointing to the exit): McDonald’s is in Avignon, fish and chips Marseille. Allez.

Several great one-liners for storing in the memory or for surprising people who forgot to see the movie in 2006. In the end Max forges an amendment to his uncle’s will that cedes the estate to Christie, who must work with Francis Duflot on the vineyard, and Max and Fanny rekindle their affection and fall in love which causes Max to choose Provence over London.

Bottle Shock

PICTURED ABOVE: CHATEAU MONTELENA, CALISTOGA, NAPA VALLEY

This 2008 movie was based on the now famous – infamous if you are French – 1976 Judgement of Paris wine tasting based on a short 7 June 1976 article in Time magazine and a 2005 book of the same name, both by George M. Taber. The movie was written by Randall Miller (Director), Jody Savin and Ross Schwartz.

The plot – based on the actual event – had Steven Spurrier (Alan Rickman) a British expatriate owner of struggling wine shop, Caves de la Madeleine and wine school Académie du Vin in Cité Berryer, a less than fashionable shopping arcade off the highly fashionable Rue Royale on the Right Bank in Paris’ ritzy First and Eighth arrondissements, trying to save his business by devising a wine-tasting with Californian wines against his favourite French wines that the French believed was no contest and heading to the Napa Valley to prepare.

George Taber (Louis Giambalvo), a reporter and editor with Time magazine, was the only reporter present at the historic event at the InterContinental Hotel, Paris. He wrote, “As this was … a blind-tasting (the judges) knew only that the wines were from France and California, and that the red wines were Bordeaux-style Cabernet Sauvignons and the whites Burgundy-style Chardonnays.” Winetasting protocol had the judges start with the whites.

The nine judges, all distinguished French wine people, were:

  1. Pierre Bréjoux (P. Gillain), Inspector General of the Appellation d’Origine Controlée Board which controls the production of the top French wines;
  2. Michel Dovaz, teacher of wine courses in French at the Académie du Vin;
  3. Claude Dubois-Millot (Phillipe Simon), sales director of GaulMillau, publisher of a leading French wine and food magazine;
  4. Odette Kahn (Marian Filali), editor Revue de Vin de France and Cuisine et Vin de France;
  5. Raymond Oliver, chef and owner Le Grand Véfour restaurant, founded in 1784, then a three-star now a two-star Michelin restaurant where Napoleon purportedly proposed to Josephine in 1796;
  6. Pierre Tari (Philippe Bergeron), owner of Château Giscours in Margaux, Secretary General of the Association des Grands Crus Classés, body of the 1855 classification;
  7. Christian Vannequé, head sommelier of La Tour d’Argent, then a three-star, now a one-star Michelin restaurant, founded in 1582 and possibly the most famous in Paris;
  8. Aubert de Villaine, co-owner of Domaine de la Romanée-Conti, one of France’s most prized vineyards; and
  9. Jean-Claude Vrinat, owner Taillevent restaurant, then a three-star now a two-star Michelin restaurant, a Paris dining newcomer in 1946.

Although nearly everyone can remember the winners of this tasting even if they can’t recall the second or third-placed wines, it is worthwhile recounting them here

  1. Chateau Montelena 1973 Chardonnay 132.0 points, 1429 Tubbs Lane, Calistoga, in the Napa Valley about 10km northwest of St. Helena CA, USA
  2. Meursault Charmes Roulot 1973 Chardonnay 126.5 points, Meursault, Côte de Beaune, Burgundy, France
  3. Chalone Vineyard 1974 Chardonnay 121.0 points, 32020 Stonewall Canyon Rd, Soledad, deep in Steinbeck country, Monterey County south of San Francisco, about 35 km southeast of Salinas CA USA (John Steinbeck’s boyhood home)

The red wine results were a lot closer:

  1. Stag’s Leap Wine Cellars 1973 Cabernet Sauvignon 127.5 points, 6150 Silverado Trail, Napa, in the valley north of Napa. There are two wineries of the same name in the Napa valley, the red wine winner in Paris with a possessive apostrophe before the “s” (Stag’s Leap Wine Cellars), majority owned by Altira, previously Phillip Morris, and the other with a possessive apostrophe after the “s” (Stags’ Leap Winery), owned by Treasury Wine Estates
  2. Château Mouton-Rothschild 1970 Cabernet Sauvignon 126.0 points, La Pigotte, 33250 Pauillac, in the Medoc, 50km north-west of Bordeaux, France. In 1973 it became the only wine ever promoted from second growth to first growth in the 1855 classification and remains one of just five Premier Grand Cru Classé wines
  3. Château Haut-Brion 1970 Cabernet Sauvignon 125.5 points, another of the five Bordeaux Premier Grand Cru Classé wines, 135 Jean Jaurès, 33608 Pessac, Graves, France, about 2km southwest of Bordeaux

And because of the close scores we should add the fourth-placed red wine

  1. Chateau Montrose 1970 Cabernet Sauvignon 122.0 points, 3 Avenue des Vignolles, 33180 Saint-Estèphe, France, one of fourteen Duexiemes Crus wines in the 1855 classification, just north of Pauillac, close to Chateau Lafite-Rothschild there

The reaction of the judges ranged “from shock to horror”. No one had expected this, and the reverberations in France went on for years. But, of course, the Americans were both surprised and pleased. They had not expected this either. Having unknown American wines beat top quality Burgundy Chardonnays and First Growth Bordeaux Cabernets in a blind tasting conducted by experienced French wine judges was more than remarkable.

The event took place in Paris but most of the movie action was in California, around Chateau Montelena at Calistoga in the Napa Valley. There the fragile relationship of the struggling novice vineyard owner Jim Barrett (Bill Pullman) with his rebellious but ultimately business-saving son Bo (Chris Pine), his oenologically-gifted staff member Gustavo Brambila (Freddy Rodriguez), his oenologically- eager apprentice Sam Fulton (Rachael Taylor) and his unenthusiastic bank are all put to the test. Add a very proper Englishman Steven Spurrier  to this mix and the suspicions he would have aroused in California regarding his motives for the tasting “I am English, and you are not” and you have a most enjoyable wine experience.

My first favourite moment was in the tavern where Bo challenges the patrons to bet that Gustavo can’t blind taste wine:

Bo:                   Hey, everybody, Listen up. Who here wants to wager a little money that this Mexican son of an immigrant field hand … can’t guess what kind of grapes are in these wines that our kind bartender has personally selected?

Patrons:           (Spend some time discussing the potential of the bet)

Bo:                   Gentlemen, action if you want it. Put it on the bar.

Gustavo:         It’s a cabernet.

Bartender:       Yep.

Gustavo:         1971. Ridge. (Santa Cruz mountains, Cupertino, Palo Alto)

Bartender:       Yep.

Patron:            Let’s see the bottle. Oh, that’s nothin’ ! A recent vintage!

Gustavo:         (swirling wine in mouth. Exhales). Dances like a lullaby at the tip of my tongue. Sonoma. Pinot noir. 1962 … Buena Vista. (Sonoma, Sonoma valley)

Bartender:       Yep.

Patron:            How does he do that?

Bo:                   Attaboy, Stav. Go get ‘em, baby.

Gustavo:         It’s not from Napa. (Sniffing). I can’t tell you whether its merlot or cabernet. (Chuckles). Oh, dear God. I can’t say because … it’s a 1947 Cheval Blanc. About half merlot, half cabernet franc. (St-Émilion, Bordeaux)

Patron:            Amazing! Ooh!

Bo:                   Yes! Thank you! Yes!

Gustavo:         Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. Greatest wine ever made.

Then a tutorial with Jim and his apprentice, Sam:

Jim:                 Well, Sam, this is where wine is made, the vineyard. And the vineyard’s best fertilizer is the owner’s footsteps. It’s alluvial, sedimentary, volcanic soil.

Sam:               Dry.

Jim:                 Right. You want to limit the irrigation ‘cause it makes the vines struggle … intensifies the flavor. A comfortable grape, a well-watered, well-fertilized grape grows into a lazy ingredient of a lousy wine. So, from hardship comes enlightenment. For a grape.

Steven             (narrating): “Wine is sunlight … held together by water.” The poetic wisdom of the Italian physicist, philosopher and stargazer … Galileo Galilei. It all begins with the soil … the vine, the grape. The smell of the vineyard. Like inhaling birth. It awakens some … ancestral … some … primordial … anyway, some deeply imprinted and probably subconscious place … in my soul.

And finally, the great advice “goodbye” conversation between Gustavo and his boss Jim:

Jim:                 So, what did he think?

Gustavo:         Excuse me?

Jim:                 The tea bag, the Brit. Did he like your wine? Come on, Gustavo. It’s a small valley. You think I wouldn’t find out?

Gustavo:         I – I thought you’d be mad.

Jim:                 I am mad. You should have been straight with me.

Gustavo:         I’d like for you to try it.

Jim:                 Nope. You’re on your own now kid.

Gustavo:         Are you firing me?

Jim:                 I can’t afford you anyway.

Gustavo:         Come on, Jim. What am I supposed to live on?

Jim:                 When your focus is elsewhere, you’re not a good employee. And your focus has been elsewhere for some time now.

Gustavo:         You people. You think you can just …buy your way into this. Take a few lessons. Grow some grapes. Make some good wine. You cannot do it that way. All right, all right. You have to have it in your blood. You have to grow up with the soil underneath your nails … and the smell of the grape in the air that you breathe. The cultivation of the vine is an art form. The refinement of its juice is a religion … that requires pain … and desire and sacrifice.

Jim:                 Amen.

Gustavo:         My father knew that. He was a field hand and he never had the opportunity to make his own wine.

Jim:                 I know that.

Gustavo:         And I’m gonna make it happen one way or another.

You already know the outcome of this story. A sorry day for the French, a happy day for the Americans. As Steven Spurrier said to his friend and “almost” customer Maurice Cantavale (Dennis Farina) in the movie:

Steven:            We have shattered the myth of the invincible French vine. And not just in California. We’ve opened the eyes of the world. And you know what I say?

Maurice:          I say amen to that, brother.

Steven:            You mark my words. We’ll be drinking wines from … well, South America. Australia. New Zealand. Africa. India. China. This is not the end, Maurice. This is just the beginning. Welcome to the future.

This may have been the start of wine’s future forty-four years ago. But that was the end of “Wine Flicks” for now.

Let’s Talk About Shiraz | Tony Bracy

30 June 2019

Shiraz – which is synonymous with Syrah – is by far Australia’s most produced and consumed winegrape variety representing some 27% of the national vineyard … well ahead of Cabernet Sauvignon (17%) and Chardonnay (14%). What we drink on the Mornington Peninsula is not terribly different to the rest of Australia but the cool climate wine-growing conditions here mean that Shiraz accounts for only 4% of the Peninsula’s plantings, way behind the dominant Pinot Noir (46%), Chardonnay (26%) and Pinot Gris / Pinot Grigio (18%) varieties.

While we may not grow much Shiraz on the Peninsula it remains one of our favourite tipples. And it stands to reason that most of the Shiraz we drink comes from out-of-town as, of course, did Shiraz / Syrah in the first place. But from where? Let’s get the myths about the origins of Shiraz out of the way first.

The most common myth concerns Shiraz, a city of nearly 2 million people and capital of Fars province in south-central Iran, approximately 700 kilometres south of Tehran. Many fine things can be attributed to the city and the province including the language we know as Farsi, the Arabicised form of Pārs. Two of Persia’s most famous poets, Saadi (1210-1291) and Hafez (1315-1390) called the city home and it was briefly the Persian capital from 1747 to 1779 during the Zand dynasty. By the ninth century Shiraz had established an enviable reputation for making the best wine in the world and more than eleven hundred years later many people still put 2 and 2 together and wrongly conclude that the answer is IV.

THE TOMB OF HAFEZ, SHIRAZ IRAN: A PERSIAN POET WHO “LAUDED THE JOYS OF LOVE AND WINE”

But, as Mr Spock said to Captain Kirk in Star Trek, “It’s life Jim, but not as we know it,” the fine wine of Shiraz was not the Syrah or Shiraz we love today. DNA typing at the University of California-Davis and the Institut National de la Recherche Agronomique in Montpellier in 1998 established that Syrah / Shiraz is a hybrid French wine grape variety, a crossbreed of two relatively obscure grapes from south-eastern France, Dureza and Mondeuse Blanche. Dureza, the father of Syrah, is a rarely grown red wine grape from the Rhône-Alpes region of the Ardèche department while Mondeuse Blanche, the mother of Syrah, is a rare white wine grape variety from the Savoie wine region. So, Syrah is French and not from Persia, Sicily, Egypt or anyplace else.

However, if the fine Shiraz wines of olden days were not Syrah what were they? Firstly, it appears they were white not red and, secondly, they were produced in two different styles: dry wines with a bitter taste for early drinking and sweet wines meant for ageing. The sweet wines were favourably compared to “old sherry” which was a prized European wine style of the 17th and 18th centuries but apart from suggesting that they were dried, the grape varieties used are something of a mystery. A likely answer is that they were made from grapes dried to concentrate their juice, like raisin wine, but as the 1979 Islamic revolution in (then) Persia closed the more than 200 wineries in the country we may never know.

Despite coming from two completely different and widely separated areas of France, Cabernet Sauvignon and Syrah / Shiraz have much in common. Cabernet Sauvignon – one of the world’s most elegant and most-grown red wine varieties – is also a hybrid, the product of an accidental 17th century crossing of Cabernet Franc and Sauvignon Blanc in south-western France. Syrah / Shiraz and Cabernet Sauvignon are the fourth and sixth most grown winegrape varieties in France – separated by Carignan but behind Merlot, Grenache and Ugni Blanc – and are the two most grown wine grape varieties in Australia.

The creator of Australia’s most collectable wine, Max Schubert, visited the major wine areas of France in 1950 and conceived the idea of producing a long-life Australian red wine like those in Bordeaux. However, of the four major grape varieties used in those Bordeaux red wine blends only Cabernet Sauvignon and Malbec were available in South Australia and they were deemed to be in such short supply as to make them commercially impracticable. As an aside it is hard to imagine that Merlot – one of the four most important grape varieties in Bordeaux and the third most-grown red wine variety in Australia – was not more available in South Australia as recently as 70 years ago!

So, the momentous decision was taken to make the new Grange wine from Shiraz and the first two vintages – 1951 and 1952 – were made entirely from that grape. However, most subsequent vintages of Grange except for 1963, 1999, 2000, 2001 and 2011 contain at least some Cabernet Sauvignon, as little as 1% in 1985 and as much as 14% in 1993.

Max Schubert paid tribute to his use of Syrah / Shiraz in Grange by using the name “Hermitage” on the label, a practice that continued through to the 1989 vintage. It was discontinued the following year after European Union objections to the use of a French place name on a product sourced from outside of the EU. Hermitage is a French AOC in the northern Rhône producing mostly fine red wines and the hill above the town of Tain-l’Hermitage and the Rhône River is honoured as the spiritual home of Syrah.

THE SPIRITUAL HOME OF SYRAH: THE HILL ABOVE TAIN-L’HERMITAGE AND THE RHÔNE RIVER

The Rhône river, one of the great rivers of Europe, is a major part of this conversation. Rising in in the Rhône Glacier in the Swiss Alps, it runs west through Lake Geneva before crossing into France and heading south to the Mediterranean at Port-Saint-Louis-du-Rhône, approximately 45 kilometres west of Marseilles. On the way it runs through the small northern Rhône wine region between Vienne and Valence and then through the much larger southern Rhône wine region between Montélimar and Avignon.

While the northern Rhône region represents just 5% of the total Rhône wine activity and Syrah is the only red wine grape permitted to be used, the appellations which include Côte Rôtie (where Syrah is often co-fermented with up to 20% of the white wine Viognier to lift its perfume and colour), Saint-Joseph, Hermitage, Crozes-Hermitage and Comas all produce world-class red wines with Syrah the star of the show. Many will remember Australian Shiraz-Viognier wines containing less than 5% Viognier that did not require identification of the white grape on the label at all. But as it was trendy to do so at the time the Viognier shared centre stage with the Shiraz.

Syrah also plays a role in the southern Rhône wine scene but is outmuscled by the region’s prominent black grape variety Grenache, which is thought to have originated in Spain, and is commonly the majority component of red wine blends. The best-known appellations are probably Châteauneuf-du-Pape, literally the Pope’s new castle, Côtes du Rhône and Côtes du Rhône-Villages. Pope Clement V’s move of the papacy from Rome to Avignon in 1309 certainly focussed attention on the southern Rhône region as did the presence of his six Avignon papal successors: John XXII, Benedict XII, Clement VI, Innocent VI, Urban V and Gregory XI over a period of nearly 70 years. In particular, the second Avignon Pope John XXII did much to assist the wine industry during his 18 years there.

The wines of the southern Rhône are mainly reds supplemented by high-octane rosés and some whites. Many of them contain several wine grape varieties with the blend of Grenache, Syrah and Mourvèdre – also a Spanish-origin wine grape – probably being the most famous. GSM wines are also popular in Australia with some producers using one of the alternative names for Mourvèdre, Mataro, in the blend.

With the Syrah / Shiraz wine grape now being grown in many parts of the new and old wine worlds, the question arises of how it came from France to Australia. And the most popular answer is that the “Father of Australian Viticulture” James Busby set out for Europe in 1831 to collect vine cuttings in France and Spain for introduction to Australia and that one of the varieties he gathered was Syrah, a grape then known as “Scyras” or “Ciras”. The cuttings were initially planted in the Sydney Botanical Gardens and the Hunter Valley and from 1839 in South Australia. The world’s oldest commercial Shiraz vineyard is understood to be that of Langmeil at Tanunda in the Barossa Valley, where the Shiraz vines were originally planted in 1843. By 1860 Shiraz had established itself as an important variety in Australia.

Australia’s varied climate naturally lends itself to the promotion of specialist wine-growing regions and while we on the Mornington Peninsula like to think of “cool climate” as one of our own developments, most of the work on classifying the climate of the world’s wine growing regions dates back to the original handiwork of A.J. Winkler and Maynard Amerine at the University of California-Davis in 1944.

The Winkler Index or Scale divides the wine-growing areas of the world into five climate regions based on temperature converted to growing degree days and is most commonly known as Regions I-V, with Region I being the coolest and Region V the warmest.

Syrah / Shiraz is best suited to Region II (with Cabernet Sauvignon, Chardonnay, Merlot and Semillon), Region III (with Grenache, Barbera and Tempranillo) and Region IV (with Carignan, Cinsault, Mourvèdre and Tempranillo).

Region II includes the Adelaide Hills, Coonawarra (which many will recall previously being mainly a Shiraz-growing area) and Frankland River; Region III incorporates the Clare Valley, the Lower Hunter Valley, Margaret River, the Northern Rhône and the Yarra Valley; while Region IV encompasses the Barossa Valley, Langhorne Creek, McLaren Vale, the Southern Rhône and the Upper Hunter Valley.

Now we know where Syrah / Shiraz comes from and where it doesn’t come from, the fact that it is a hybrid variety, how it came to Australia, where it grows best, and that it has cool and warm climate differences in flavour and aroma. But what makes it so popular?

In the third edition of her Oxford Companion to Wine Jancis Robinson notes that Syrah is “one of the noblest and currently most fashionable red wine grapes, if nobility is bestowed by an ability to produce serious red wines capable of ageing majestically for decades and if fashionability is measured by the extent to which new cuttings are currently going into the ground all over the world.” But what does it taste like?

Philip Smith of https://thewinedepository.com.au knowledgeably describes Shiraz as “a bit of a chameleon (that) can change how it looks depending on terroir and/or winemaker influence. The Syrah-based wines of Northern Rhône are dry and austere while the Shiraz of the Barossa are rich and fleshy. In cooler climates and/or seasons it is very much driven by white pepper, red and blue fruits and even some floral notes. It is often a lot more savoury with earth/meat/gamey elements being more evident. Warmer climates and seasons can see Shiraz that tastes of dark fruits, fruit cake, plums, jam, chocolate, stewed fruits, liquorice. The savoury flavours are more of leather and dry earth.”

PARINGA ESTATE: COOL CLIMATE SHIRAZ FROM THE MORNINGTON PENINSULA

So, whether you are contemplating a cool climate wine from Beechworth, Heathcote or the Mornington Peninsula or a warm-climate wine from the Barossa Valley, McLaren Vale or the Southern Rhône, Shiraz has you covered. And aren’t you glad we decided to talk about it?

The Shrinking Grape of La Mancha | Tony Bracy

Sadly, we don’t seem to hear much about the Spanish white winegrape variety Airén (i-REHN) these days. While Airén still covers more vineyard area than any other white winegrape in the world it was, until recently, the most widely grown winegrape of any kind on the planet.

This lack of news may result from the fact that Airén is largely grown only in the Castile-La Mancha and Valdepeñas areas of central Spain and in Extremadura on the border with Portugal and that it is mainly used to produce Spanish brandy – where no Denominación de Origen is needed – and to make dry white wines of no particular distinction.

It may also be a sign of the love affair that connoisseurs are having with the red wine variety Tempranillo and the more fashionable Spanish wine-growing regions of Rioja, Ribera del Duero, Navarra and Penedés. The vineyard area of Tempranillo in Spain and in Portugal, where it is known as Tinta Roriz, essentially doubled between 1998 and 2004. And as it has also taken root in Argentina, France, California and Australia, Tempranillo’s worldwide vineyard area grew nearly fivefold between 1990 and 2010 to become the fourth most planted winegrape variety according to Professor Kym Anderson’s empirical 2013 volume Which Winegrape Varieties are Grown Where?

Professor Anderson notes that the area planted to Airén fell by almost half during this period from 476,396 hectares in 1990 to 252,364 hectares in 2010 to be the third most planted winegrape variety in the world. The enormous area remaining is still slightly larger than the Australian Capital Territory and, according to the L’Organisation Internationale de la Vigne et du Vin (OIV), about 40% greater than the total Australian area under winegrape in that year.

The OIV reported a 28.2% decline in the surface area of Spanish grapevines from 1,506,000 hectares in 1990 to 1,032,000 hectares in 2011. Airén is understood to have accounted for about 47% of the fall during this twenty-one year period while its share of the total Spanish vineyard area declined from 31.6% to less than 25%. And this trend is expected to continue.

Surface measurements, however, tend to flatter both Spain and Airén due to low planting densities and low yields. O.I.V. statistics show that Spain had the world’s largest surface area covered by vineyards in 2011 ahead of France and Italy but ranked only third behind those countries in wine production. Spain produced just 32.36 hectolitres of wine per hectare of vines in 2011 compared to 61.5 hectolitres in France and 53.58 hectolitres in Italy. And in 2011 France regained its position as the world’s largest wine-producing country, a title Italy had held between 2007 and 2010.

La Mancha’s arid plains result in Airén being cultivated with an unusually low vine density of about 1,500 vines per hectare, producing even lower yields than the Spanish average. Airén is very tolerant of the extremes of cold and heat experienced in central Spain and is drought-resistant, a fine attribute given the EU ban on irrigation. It grows strongly as a bush vine with large, tight bunches of light-skinned yellow grapes and is known variously as Forcayat, Lairén, Manchega and Valdepeñera in other parts of the country.

Don Quixote, the Man of La Mancha himself, was notably involved with red wine in his battle with wine skins in the First Part of the Cervantes odyssey but his squire Sancho Panza and the squire to the Knight of the Wood knowledgeably tasted the wine of Ciudad Real, the province and city in Castile-La Mancha, in the Second Part of the book. As Airén is the most planted grape variety in Ciudad Real it could well have produced the wine the two squires fictitiously tasted in 1615.

The 1492 capture of Granada completed the Christian reconquest of Spain and ended the Islamic prohibition of alcoholic beverages. Under the Catholic monarchs Isabella of Castile and Ferdinand of Aragón and with the enthusiastic support of the re-established monasteries Spanish winemaking recovered quickly. La Mancha became the Court’s winery until French winemakers fleeing the phylloxera devastation of the 1860s moved into Rioja, revitalising and modernising Spain’s wine industry. Airén’s hardiness led to its adoption as a vine replacement when phylloxera finally arrived in Spain and destroyed most vineyards at the end of the 19th century and it was further boosted in the mid-20th century when the government offered to buy all local brandy production. And with its high sugar levels Airén proved to be an ideal grape variety for brandy distillation.

Spanish brandy, Brandy de Jerez, is dominated by the famous Sherry houses of Andalucia but as the Palomino Fino grapes used for Sherry are usually too expensive for making brandy they use Airén grapes and process the wine using column stills on site in Castile-La Mancha and Extremadura. The product is then moved to Jerez de la Frontera for aging in casks previously used for ageing Sherry.

Vinexpo, the international wine and spirits exhibition, reports that while Cognac and Armagnac consumption remained steady between 2007 and 2011, brandy consumption increased by 23.24% and was expected to grow further in the years to 2016. And should this trend continue brandy would appear to be a reasonably safe haven for less distinguished white winegrape varieties such as Airén in Spain and the winegrape variety known as Trebbiano Toscano in Italy and Ugni Blanc in France.


Spanish consumption of Brandy de Jerez is impressive. In 2008 more than 36 million bottles were bought in Spain, more than half of the more than 64 million bottles sold worldwide, and they currently produce as many as 80 million bottles of which just 20 million are exported. So while domestic brandy consumption remains strong it will be the uncertain future for bulk white wines such as Airén that will continue the uprooting of Spanish vines already reflected in the vineyard area statistics.

But it is not simply the decline in the plantings of some white winegrape varieties; there has been a surge in the area of red winegrape plantings over the first decade of this century – including Tempranillo, Syrah, Pinot Noir, Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot – that looks to be unstoppable. Professor Anderson confirms that both Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot leap-frogged Airén between 2000 and 2010 to become the largest and second-largest winegrape variety plantings on the planet and that red winegrape varieties now account for more than 55% of the world’s winegrape area.

If there is to be a white winegrape revival it may be that the world’s present affaire de cœur with Chardonnay – and to a lesser extent Sauvignon Blanc – may help them to become the dominant winegrape varieties they have long promised to be.