A value for money, commemorative release

Some years ago, the local bottle shop in Blackburn had on sale a magnum of Koonunga Hill Shiraz Cabernet 2004, for the good price of $21. It was called Koonunga Hill (Special Reserve) Claret. The entire bottle was covered in red, and the distinctive appearance commemorated the passing of thirty years of the line. The first release was the 1976 vintage which was released in 1978. I bought the magnum and reflected, “Where have the thirty years gone?”

There was a bottle of the ‘76 in my cellar at this time, but somehow it got included in a parcel for auction at Langton’s and ultimately realized $25. I should have kept it. With the magnum in my hand and thinking back to the label of the ‘76, it struck me that I’d purchased every vintage in between, and for good reason.

Penfolds Koonunga Cabernet 2010

Koonunga Hill was always a reliable, very affordable, quality red that you could freely splash about after a game of golf, or when neighbours dropped in, or when a pizza at the local Italian was a good idea. But treating it in this way was probably a little too casual, particularly during the early years, for as Len Evans said of the first release in the Wine and Spirit Buying Guide of June 1978:

“Koonunga Hill is “…very big on the palate (with) an underlying complexity which I find most appealing…reminiscent of the big Penfolds reds of the 1960s.”

He also said in this publication that the first Koonunga Hill was crafted from fruit from the Koonunga Hill vineyard in the Barossa Valley, and from fruit sourced from Coonawarra and Magill.

Now at face value that looks for all the world like the recipe for Grange Hermitage. However, the style of Grange can normally be distinguished by its more wooded and lifted sweetish palate, its greater depth and length, and by its more evident volatility. Nevertheless, the youthful Grange and the youthful Koonunga ‘76 were not far from each other in style and cellaring potential.

This spelt trouble, as the similarity in style aroused some wine journalists to the point of apoplexy.

Max Schubert on Grange and Koonunga Hill

As it turns out, I was a witness to an attack on Grange, as a guest at a Wine Press Club lunch at the RACV Club in Melbourne, shortly after the release of the ’76 Koonunga. The guest of honour was Max Schubert, the ‘Father of Grange’, and the wines that Schubert presented for our enjoyment and evaluation were all the vintages of Bin 389 released up to that time. At the end of the tasting, he invited questions from the floor.

“Is it true” one journalist asked, “that Koonunga Hill Claret is in fact Grange Hermitage with a different label?”

Schubert, in his measured and cautious manner, replied that the integrity of both Grange Hermitage and Koonunga Hill were guaranteed, and that only premium material was sourced for both. Maybe not a satisfactory answer, as the journalist took to his seat and stared at the ceiling, nevertheless it fits the official version that Penfolds offered 16 years later in their 1994 edition of “The Rewards of Patience”.

In this, they state that the Koonunga Hill vineyard, when purchased in 1973, was intended to produce fruit for their high end Bin numbers. However, at this time, its fruit was not introduced to this level, as a consequence of falling demand, and of course, this decline must have included Bin 95, Grange Hermitage.

Whatever the true intention was in creating the Koonunga Hill label in 1976, the result after 36 years is a brand name that represents quality, reliability, availability and value. Perhaps it was meant to be a one off; a temporary hedge for its bigger brothers, but then the best of plans can be easily shot down when success gets in the way.

Koonunga – An indigenous place name?

I would have liked to have asked Schubert if he knew what Koonunga meant, and indeed if his company had any policy in regard to the use of  indigenous language on their bottles of wine. And I’m sure he would have responded politely in mission statement terms, but in all fairness, this was not a subject that that would have seriously involved him.

My efforts to find out the meaning of Koonunga have failed. There appears to be no relevant internet reference, and the word doesn’t appear in the book, ‘Macquarie Aboriginal Words’, where the language of the Kaurna people of the Adelaide Plains is described.

For ‘Koonunga’ it is not known whether it is an Aboriginal place name or not, however, the ‘unga’ is derived from the locative case-marker ‘-nggn’, which strongly suggests it is. Also, it is unknown whether the term was assigned from one area to another as a commemorative name, a practice that was not uncommon with house and farm naming in the nineteenth century.

The possibility then exists that ‘Koonunga’ is a relic of a mnemonic system that belonged to the Kaurna people, and as such should be respected for what it may be, and acknowledged as such on wine labels or wherever else it is publicly displayed.

On the question of corporate conduct in assignation of indigenous language, I believe that every effort should be made to establish the etymologies of any indigenous term proposed for inclusion in public domain activity, such as, in business names, or product names and marketing.

I wonder if Penfolds would consider a few carefully chosen words for inclusion on their wine labels in cases where Aboriginal language is used to enhance their products?

I would raise a glass of Koonunga Hill to that…

d’Arenberg Dadd Sparkling – $28 – 87/100. Adelaide Hills, South Australia. Chardonnay, pinot noir, and pinot meunier blend. Pale lemon colour, small slow bead. Light bouquet of warm bread rolls and lemon peel. Dry in the mouth, medium bodied with toasty aspects, dried pears and a crisp citric finish.

Juniper Crossing Semillon/Sauvignon Blanc 2011 – $20 – 86/100. Margaret River, Western Australia. Nose of lemon grass and tomato leaf. Fresh vigorous palate, with a lychee character that reminds me more of sauvignon than semillon fruit.

The Lane Gathering Sauvignon Blanc/Semillon 2009 – $35 – 89/100. Adelaide Hills, South Australia. Herbal nose of lime and a hint of green apple. Smooth, mouth-filling palate with some more of the Granny Smith apple, supported by firm, lemon acidity.

Penfolds Bin 51 Riesling 2011 – $33 – 91/100. Eden Valley, South Australia. Mineral nose with delicate citrus blossoms. Classic varietal palate somehow reminds me of Rose’s Lime Marmalade – without the sugar. This white has a long aftertaste with beautifully balanced, lip-smacking acidity.

Shaw + Smith Adelaide Hills Pinot Noir 2010 – $48 – 90/100. Pale crimson. Heady rose water and strawberry conserve nose. The light colour belies a solid palate stacked with red berry flavours, subdued oak and subtle tannins. Illusions of sweetness from the fruit taper off into a satisfying firm and dry finish.

Angove McClaren Vale Shiraz 2010 – $18 – 87/100. Deep red hues. Warm (14.5% alcohol) and ripe blackberries on the nose. Generous palate of plums, summer berries and mild vanilla oak. Main course style for sure.

Blackjack Major’s Line Shiraz 2009 – $25 – 90/100. Bendigo, Victoria. Peppery fruity nose with a hint of anise. Pleasing intensity of flavours on the palate with sub-strata of liquorice and a hint of dark chocolate.

Zema Estate Cluny Cabernet Merlot 2008 – $26 – 89/100. Coonawarra, South Australia. Dark ruby colour. Lifted nose of mulberries and blueberries. Chewy, dry palate shows more concentrated blueberry character, along with an olive savouriness, the whole ably supported by balanced oak.

Sierra Nevada Stout 355ml stubbie – 6-pack $24 plus – 90/100. California, USA. Delicious roast coffee hints on the nose. Silky smooth and thick in the mouth, showing earthy mocha character and mild bitterness towards the finish. Though a little sweeter, this is right up there with my favourite, Coopers Stout.

Ratings

95+ – Trophy

90+ – Outstanding

85+ – Fine drinking

80+ – Good stuff

75+ – Commercial drop

Prices in Australian dollars.

A short flight with Vietnam Airlines takes us from Hue to Hanoi – the capital of Vietnam.

Compared to hot and steamy Ho Chi Minh City, Hanoi in mid-February is cold, overcast and drizzly – one morning it gets down to 11 degrees C and we’re still cold, even wearing four layers of clothing. Other Australians in the Hanoi cold are identifiable by their outfits of shorts, T-shirts and thongs.

Our hotel is in the Old Quarter and the surrounding area is more crowded and has more dangerous traffic than Ho Chi Minh City – which is saying something. It is impossible to walk directly along any footpath or roadside due to myriad motorcycles and motor scooters.

Sweatshop counterfeits?

Wall-to-wall tiny shops line the footpaths, selling clothes, footwear, camping gear, electronics – you name it. There is no noticeable copyright law in Vietnam so many of them stock well-known brand name products, cheap. A local tells us the goods are often sourced from the same sweatshops that the big brand names use.

And there is even a relic of French colonialism as on the street corners old ladies sell baguettes by the dozen.

Fresh baguettes

In the shopping areas, it is surprising to see that Australia’s ANZ Bank supplies most of the ATMs.

Ha Long Bay

Next on the agenda is a bus trip to Ha Long Bay, where Intrepid Travel has booked the team a cruise and overnight stay on a cute looking junk. The Bien Ngoc (Pearly Sea) looks somewhat old and small from the outside but the inside is magically spacious – with a dining salon, karaoke bar and eight comfortable staterooms, each with air conditioning and en suite facilities.

Junk Traffic

Photographs in Ha Long Bay brochures typically show one serene looking junk on the placid waters amidst the jutting limestone towers. Our guide tells us that there are in fact 500 junks plying this recently listed World Heritage site.

Ha Long Bay Junks

The area is truly beautiful but as we cruise along, plastic bags, oil slicks and other jetsam pollute the water. The area is undergoing massive high-rise tourist development and one wonders what it will be like in 20 years.

Young Australians in our group just had to do double back-flips with pike from the junk into the freezing water – “because it was there”.

Taking a dive

Meeting in Hanoi

By chance, back in Hanoi, we catch up with Cheesemeister Richard Thomas. Richard takes us to the poky but excellent New Day Restaurant where we clamber up some rickety stairs past a warren of dining rooms to enjoy a fine lunch.

Later, we catch a cab and Richard shows us around the up-market Tay Ho district on the northeast side of the West Lake.

In contrast to the Old Quarter, this is an area for the wealthy tourist, dotted with major international hotels, classy wine bars, restaurants and top shelf delis. On the way there we pass Ho Chi Minh’s mausoleum and, incongruously, in this relatively poor country, a showroom selling new Bentleys and Rollers.

Dog food anyone?

That evening we pop into the promising-looking Cafe Refresher and are surprised to find a selection of dog meat dishes on the menu. We leave, not wishing our initial tofu selection to be wok-seared in Rottweiler grease.

Vietnamese coffee is mighty fine

Highly recommended is the Vietnamese coffee that most restaurants and cafes serve. The coffee drips through a little filter that sits on top of your cup and is sweetened with condensed milk. The flavour and aroma is not unlike that of Bali ‘kopi’ – rich and thick, with undertones of bitter chocolate.

In fact, we liked it so much that we brought some home and then found we could buy it in local Vietnamese supermarkets.

Back to Australia

After a couple of extra days swanning around Hanoi, it’s back to Brisbane on Singapore Airlines. Economy class vegetarian food on most planes is usually bland in the extreme but, surprisingly, on the leg from Hanoi to Singapore the food is excellent.

Recommended

Hong Ngoc 2 Hotel, Hanoi, $66 per room per night. A small, narrow, comfortable hotel in the heart of Hanoi’s Old Quarter.

View from Hong Ngoc 2

Women’s Museum. Here we check out a fine selection of historical exhibits, among which is a fascinating display related to Vietnamese women’s participation in military operations during the Vietnam War.

Villa Más, S'Agaró

This second visit to Villa Más was prompted by my father’s 80^th birthday, and since he lives a few miles away from S’Agaró, I invited my parents for lunch there. The site is quite nice, especially at this time of the year, when the weather is good but the tourists are far away. The beach is a few steps away, so the Villa Más terrace is an ideal place for Sunday lunch for five.

My blogging is fairly sparse these days, so I hesitate to refer to my friend Joan Gómez Pallarès and Vincent Pousson as “fellow wine bloggers”; anyhow, both live in Barcelona and strongly recommended going back to Villa Màs.

I remembered from the previous visit how spectacular the wine list was, particularly on French wines , and especially Burgundy. What I did not remember is how good the prices are. Grange des Pères and Peyre Rose are both 70 Euro, which is amazing, considering that in France you would pay close to double that amount. Catalan restaurants have this nice habit of not charging 4-5 times the purchase price, which is standard in France.

The food at Villa Más is quite remarkable too. The chef really knows what he’s doing. My pig’s trotters (peus de porc) with sea cucumbers (esparenyes) were beautifully served – 4 circles of finely chopped meat topped with a thin disc of crackling and an espardenya. Beautiful visuals led to a wonderful array of textures, from the rich soft slowly cooked meat with its gelatinous consistency to the cracking crackling and the delicate fibrous sea cucumber, a great match, perfectly executed. Same goes for the rest of the family’s choices, like monkfish with iberic bacon, or “macaroni” with Idiazábal cheese.

A set 3-course menu is available for 24 Euro; this is what my parents took, and it was a really good deal.

The only remark about the food, and it is hard to find fault when everything was so masterfully prepared: the total absence of vegetables is a throwback to France 20 years ago, when other than Alain Passard and a few others, most chefs thought cooking was about meat and fish.

Clearly Villa Más is run by a very knowledgeable wine lover, and a very talented chef. So with great food and great wines what can go wrong? The service!

The service is friendly enough but so totally chaotic and disorganized that it ends up feeling distant, too busy to be interested in your food experience or to make you feel welcome. While the staff was impeccably dressed in black and white, the head waitress was in jeans and a tee-shirt: it was as if the director of the orchestra had lost his partition (and his suit). Waiters come and go rapidly, spending the minimal amount of time at your table to take orders and bring plates.

Even the wine service was aloof and distracted, as if the sommelier did not really care about what I ordered. I was handed the massive wine list by the waitress, and another waitress took my order; the sommelier only showed up to uncork the bottle, and never offered any advice. The fact that I spent some time admiring the wine list did not get me any better treatment than the coke-drinking Panamera-driving beach types at the other tables. Anyhow, the Peyre Rose was not available, the Grange des Pères red that I ordered never came (neither did an apology), and I was half way through my main course, when I had to finally insist that they immediately bring us the Chablis 1er Cru Forêt 2005 that was ordered 20 minutes earlier for those who were eating fish. So I drank Chablis with pig’s trotters, a world first.

Given the service issues, I also find it silly that a restaurant of this caliber also has a 2.80 Euro cover charge for “pa i cobert” (we never did get any bread…), like the cheap beach restaurants in Platja d’Aro.

I hear that the owner of Villa Más has opened a wine bar restaurant in Girona called… Plaça del Vi 7 (the name is the address of the place, Wine Square, and the number 7 in Catalan, “set”, also means thirst…). Perhaps this new exciting place is causing the restaurant in s’Agaró to lose focus?

Overall, this being a special birthday meal, I decided to ignore the “details” and concentrate on the family, the truly excellent food and the great wines. But I understand now why this potentially great restaurant is not even mentioned in the Michelin guide. I believe that all it would take is a minimum of coordination to make this a star restaurant.

Where to go for a light birthday lunch? We hadn’t been to Jardin Japonesque for quite a while so I grabbed a bottle of Pol Gessner from the fridge and we headed off.

On their lunch menu the description of Vegetable Domburi looked good, and so it turned out. Each generous serve included cubes of tempura tofu, silverbeet tsukudani, and  avocado – on a bed of sushi rice – accompanied by a bowl of light miso soup. Great value at $14.00.

For dessert we shared a dish of Uji Kintoki Parfait  - $9.00.

I’ll quote the menu description: “Green tea ice cream, green tea sauce, green tea sable, azuki paste, condensed milk, green tea powder, whipped cream.”

Uji Kintoki Parfait

The velvety, green tea ice cream was, to use a rare phrase, absolutely goluptious.

Glasses of mellow Pol Gessner (an inexpensive champagne from the house of Lanson) matched the food admirably.

Jardin Japonesque, BYO only. 3 Arcadia St, Noosa Junction, Qld. (07) 54480724.

I’m sorry – but only a little – to read of Chef Peter Howard‘s disappointment with the food in the U.S. Bad flavour combinations in Italian dishes? Dumping on Rachael Ray? Either he’s not telling us about the very wonderful meals he had during FIVE weeks of travel here, or he wasn’t trying very hard to find them.

No doubt, I could spend five weeks in Australia and find disappointment with the food. Are there no popular food show personalities on TV in Australia offering their twist on the vegemite sandwich?

And you know, a peanut butter, bacon and tomato sandwich sounds like something that might be pretty good, at least to an American palate. You know, the palate non-American foodies like to dismiss as unrefined?

And speaking of critics and criticism, I thought you’d find interesting the food blogosphere kerfuffle that happened here last week, since it involves Italian food of the kind that Howard’s description might fit.

Eighty-five year old Marilyn Hagerty writes the “Eat Beat” column for the Grand Forks Herald. Grand Forks is in North Dakota, a windswept town of about 70,000 souls on the prairie of the Upper Midwest. No one would consider it a culinary Mecca.

Recently, an Olive Garden restaurant opened there and Ms. Hagerty offered her impressions in this review: Long-awaited Olive Garden receives warm welcome.

(Background: The Olive Garden is a chain restaurant ubiquitous in the U.S.. For some Americans, especially in small and medium sized cities – and in lots of suburbs – it is the only Italian restaurant choice.)

Hagerty’s very earnest review of the restaurant went viral and lots of snarkologists were quick to make fun of it.

But then some people put Hagerty’s review in context. A fabulous sportswriter, Joe Posnanski, had this beautifully-written take on her review - The Olive Garden - and the discussion it engendered.

Hagerty made the national news. She did TV interviews. She is as delightful and forthright and sweet as you would expect an 85 year old five columns-a-week writer to be. And she’s no rube, either.

The funny thing is, it’s simply a report about the restaurant itself and the experience of eating there – except for the food.

A former editor of hers related that when Hagerty writes about the paint on the wall and the flower arrangements, you know the food isn’t very good.

It’s a subtle approach. Maybe food critics could take a lesson!

I invite Chef Howard to Chicago for a culinary exploration filled with interesting flavours, small portions, no Rachael Ray – and a trip to the Olive Garden, just for fun.

“The problem is, it has been badly stored in a hot, uninsulated sunroom for 10-20 years, and the time is coming when we are going to have to clear out his house.

“I am pessimistic about the state of the wine and am thinking we will have to give it a decent Christian burial in a skip. What do you think? Is it likely to be drinkable?”

Astrid, I have never thrown out an unopened bottle of wine in my life and nearly had a heart attack at the thought of your dad’s collection ending up in a skip.

Sure, some of the wine may be in poor condition but my bet is that most of it will be eminently drinkable and that a few of the bottles will be absolute gems.

So my advice is, first move the wine to a friendlier environment. Second, sample a bottle whenever the mood takes you and see what each wine has to say to you.

If you really want to bury or dump the wine let me know and I’ll fly down to Melbourne and “dump” it where it will do most good. My atheistic throat comes to mind.

Mid-1970s, Geoff Parker and I were in the outer at Victoria Park, watching Collingwood (The ‘Pies) play an inferior team. (That is, most of them.) Footballing legend, Fabulous Phil Carman was, as usual, starring.

In those days, you could bring booze to the games and we did, lots.

This particular Saturday arvo, instead of 6-packs of Coopers Sparkling Ale and sick of the usual footy fare of cold meat pies, we took along an Esky full of goodies.

My memory is that among other delicacies we ate sandwiches of smoked salmon on wholemeal bread whilst sipping Lindemans Imperator Brut 1965, from flutes.

The hardened, beer-swilling denizens of the terraces looked on with amazement, but no blood was shed.

Only 36 years have passed since the end of the Vietnam War, and, while we are not there as war tourists, we can’t ignore the evidence of that recent past.

For example, in the War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Minh City; in the nearby Cu Chi tunnels; in shops selling reproduction propaganda posters; in reafforestation projects still revegetating land recovering from Agent Orange defoliation.

Against that sombre background, we set out on a 10 day tour from hot and steamy Ho Chi Minh City (AKA Saigon), heading north to Hanoi.

8/2/12 – 9/2/12. Saigon is a mad house of traffic as usual.

At the Cu Chi Tunnels, some 40 km from Saigon, our Intrepid Travel guide, Son Le, (“Call me Sunny.”) tells us that a few of the passageways were widened – so that fat tourists can see where the Viet Cong lived and fought during the war.

Cu Chi tunnel entrance

I venture underground. The tunnel is narrow and as black as night. I have to stoop doubled over to proceed. Not normally claustrophobic, after about 10 metres I’m glad to get out.

Kalashnikov Kid

Next door to the tunnels complex is a military shooting range. Here, for a few dollars, eco-tourists can blast away at targets, using vintage weapons from the war era. My choice is an AK 47 (Automatic Kalashnikov) and I happily blast 10 rounds at a distant target. Don’t think I killed anybody, but seventeen bucks well spent.

It brings back distant memories of more accurate shooting with a 7.62 calibre SLR, as a recruit in the Regular Army at Kapooka, a million or so years ago.

Cold Expresso

That evening we hop on the Reunification Express, en route, via Da Nang, to Hoi An.

Sunny doesn’t recommend the on board food, unless you’re an instant noodle freak. Consequently, everyone is carrying food supplies and bottled water for the 17.5 hour trip.

Trying to sleep in my first class, cramped upper berth, I find there is no way to adjust the freezing air conditioning – a cool night’s sleep follows.

Hoi An

10/2/12 – 12/2/12. Our pleasant hotel, the Van Loi, is in Cam Nam village, set on a small island in the Thu Bon River. A few minutes’ walk away is the beautifully restored, if touristy, ancient quarter.

Wandering around the quarter, we catch a traditional Vietnamese musical concert in the Hoi An Art Craft Workshop. Highly entertaining is a player plucking a dan bau.

Group with Dan Bau

“Dan Bau?” You’ll get the idea if you can picture a one-string lap steel guitar with a vertical whammy bar, played in harmonics.

Bustling markets on the river front adjoin surrounding streets – these are lined with small restaurants and shops. In the restaurants, most main dishes cost between $1.50 and $4. With meals we drink Beer LaRue, at about 80 cents a can.

River side market

That evening we visit the Giaon Cooking School, where the amiable Ms Hanh runs professional classes in her home. Ms Hanh eases us through the recipes and ingredient preparation, which we then cook for our shared dinner. Menu staples are shredded papaya salad, spring rolls, claypot caramelized aubergine, and spicy tofu barbecued in a banana leaf.

Human Fish

On the Hoi An riverfront an old lady in peasant gear offers us a cruise down the river in her old scow – $6 for one hour. The boat’s motor sounds like a one cylinder chaff-cutter and, as we clatter along, we pass duck farms and market gardens on little islets.

An old couple on a low slung fishing boat are casting a net for fish. They don’t seem to be catching any so we stop to take a photo or two. They then row over and ask us for $1 for posing – which we happily pay. Later we realise that tourists were the only fish they were catching.

Fishing for tourists

Highway to Hell (Hue)

12/2/12 – 13/2/12. It’s time to take a bus along the coast road to Hue. The narrow, poorly maintained two lane road is in fact a major highway, with large buses and trucks passing recklessly.

Near collisions are frequent and we pass the after math of an horrific truck head-on; the road is still covered with a mess of oil, diesel and blood.

Alongside the road are plantations of eucalypts. Sunny explains that their wood is used for paper making; the leaves distilled into massage oil. Soon after, as if to illustrate his point, we pass a factory surrounded by mini mountains of chipped eucalypt.

Eucalyptus chips

At last, we arrive at the Ideal Hotel in Hue – not my idea of an ideal hotel. Our room smells of damp and other members of the tour report the same.

We’re only there for a night, so I console myself with a popular local beer, Huda; a pleasant drop with just a hint of sweetness. Like many Asian beers, this has rice as well as malted barley listed as an ingredient.

Gawky tourism

Next morning we cruise in a large junk down the Perfume River – to look around the 17^th century Thien Mu (Heavenly Lady) Pagoda and associated Buddhist monastery.

(Interestingly, the floor and hull of the junk are made of metal recycled from American bombers – the captain’s helm is a steering wheel from a Vietnam war GMC truck.)

GMC type helm

Inside the temple, the monks chant their daily prayers. There is something a little awkward and spooky being part of a bunch of tourists gawking at and photographing them.

To be continued. Next issue: Hue to Hanoi and Halong Bay.

Disclosure: All travel expenses paid for by the writer.

Details: Trip booked through Flight Centre. Costs per person: Singapore Airlines return, Brisbane to Ho Chi Minh/Hanoi, $1065. Ten day tour “Vietnam Express Northbound” with Intrepid Travel, $952. Extra nights at Hong Ngoc 2 Hotel, Hanoi, $66 per room per night.

Transfers: Australian travel agents quote expensively for pre-booked cabs to and from Vietnamese airports, for example, $33 per person for Ho Chi Minh City and $37 for Hanoi.

We used local cabs, which are safe and cheap. Expect to pay around $7.50 each way in Ho Chi Minh City and between $12 and $20 in Hanoi – that’s for the cab, not per passenger.

Prices I thought were uppish, which for a relatively poor country means that sales would mainly be to ex-pats and tourists.

I wonder about cellaring and the consequent condition of wine in a country of extreme temperature and tropical monsoons.

One young Argentinean cabernet we try is oxidised. A cheap Vietnamese white – Dalat – made from the cardinal grape is average to quaffable. I didn’t try the Dalat red, made from the same grape, with strawberries added.