Waiter: “And a red with main course sir?”

Host: “Yes. We’d like two glasses of the new Penfolds Grange 2008 please.”

Waiter: “I should warn sir that this is a very expensive wine.”

Host: “Like how much?”

Waiter: “Well, lemme see. A bottle would cost you one thousand five hundred and seventy dollars.”

Host: “Two teaspoons then.”

Waiter: “Umm. Take away one, carry the two. Yes that’ll cost you twenty two dollars.”

Host smiles and winks: “Don’t worry about the cost! Government credit card doncha know. In fact, make that two tablespoons.”

Waiter thinks: “Mmm, eighty four bucks!” Thinks again, “Hope they tip generously.” Exits via kitchen door, stage left.

Preposterous? No. The recently released Grange has a recommended retail price of $784.99*. Very few restaurants add less than a 100% mark-up to the retail price of wines so our pollies’ bottle will cost at least $1570, i.e. close enough to $2.10 per millilitre. (*Why do they use used car pricing techniques for prestige wine? Would it really deter any buyers if the price were rounded up to $785?)

Is Grange worth the money? Is a Lamborghini worth $300,000+ more than a Mini? If you’re loaded and into conspicuous consumption it really doesn’t matter. Though – as reported in The Australian – it seems that ordinary wine drinkers prefer a $17 Robert Oatley Shiraz to the newly released über-wine.

I suspect that the astronomical price will deter most wine lovers and that likely buyers will include corporate types, merchant bankers and frackin’ mining magnates. (NB These latter two are interchangeable for the most part.)

Grange however, is undoubtedly a great wine and I’ve been lucky enough taste quite a few of the vintages, even a counterfeit one. I bought the occasional bottle years ago when the label was admittedly expensive but vaguely affordable. Some were from friends’ cellars. Most however were tasted courtesy of Penfolds. All stand out in my memory as classics by any standard.

Trouble is, Grange is no longer just a fine wine. It has become, (gasp!), a Penfolds marketing icon.

Accordingly, I predict that the next release will cost an eye-watering $1000. Even at that price, it will no doubt be sold out to cashed–up bogans – and Penfolds will achieve yet another international marketing triumph.

Yarrabank Cuvée 2009 – $38 – 92/100 - Chardonnay and pinot noir, four years on lees. Light golden tints; persistent tiny bubbles. The bouquet shows notes of green apple and brioche. A full-bodied bubbly on the palate with generous fruit and a finely balanced dryish finish.

Delatite Deadman’s Hill Gewürtztraminer 2012 – $25 – 90/100 - Mansfield, Victoria. Pale straw hues. On the nose there is that typical Gewürtz rose petal spiciness and in the background the faintest hint of oak. The palate is rich with a pleasant illusion of sweetness which adds a liqueurish mouth feel that gradually transforms into a medium dry finish. Try with a platter of sharpish cheeses.

The Lane Block 1A Chardonnay 2012 – $20 – 89/100 - Hahndorf, South Australia. Pale straw in colour. Ripe and fruity nose. Stone fruits and melon continue through the palate with just enough oak to balance. The finish is medium dry and flavours linger agreeably.

Shaw + Smith M3 Chardonnay 2012 – $42 – 94/100 - Adelaide Hills, South Australia. This one leads off with nicely balanced aromas of apricot and toasted oak. On the palate the main impression is one of balance, where a sub-structure of smoky oak supports aspects of apricot conserve and dry pears along with nicely balanced citric acidity. A white for main courses.

Rochford Yarra Valley Pinot Noir 2011 – $29 – 89/100 - The nose offers hints of raspberry and strawberry conserve and maybe a suggestion of smoky oak. The palate displays generous sweet fruit across a spectrum redolent of summer pudding. The finish is medium dry and firm enough to suit richer entrées.

La Vieille Ferme – 2010 – $13 – 89/100 - Rhône Valley. AOC Ventoux. A grenache, syrah, cinsault and carignan blend. Attractive nose of cherries and blackcurrant pastilles. A dryish style in the mouth, with hints of blackberry and cherry. Its pleasantly tannic edge will suit main courses well. Real value for money. 

Value for money

Tar & Roses Heathcote Sangiovese 2012 – $20+ – 93/100 - Deep crimson in the glass. On the nose are cherries, tobacco leaves and a slight earthiness The palate is savoury, with plumminess and spice over grippy tannins. Just the thing for a crusty pizza.

Xanadu Next of Kin Shiraz 2011 – $18 – 94/100 - Margaret River, Western Australia. A complex nose of dark berries and lightly charred oak. This is followed by a solid mouthful of blackberry-like fruitiness with an edge of aniseed and vanilla-ish French oak. A good, long, moreish finish.

Ratings

95-100 – Gold

90-94 – Silver

85-89 – Bronze

80–84 – Good drinking

But how to make it last? Ever thrifty, I hit on the technique of cutting it with butter. Here’s how.

Take a piece of room temperature Stilton (rind and all) and mash it gently with half its weight in room temperature unsalted butter. Gently now, try to preserve a few blue crumbs of identifiable cheese in the mix, you don’t want a paste. (Keeps well in fridge.)

This mix is delicious as a spread on dry biscuits, sandwiches or melting into toast. You can also use it in recipes that call for Stilton or blue cheese – like this one from the archives:

Asparagus Danish – Bleu

You will need some raw green or white asparagus spears, puff pastry, animal-rennet-free Blue Stilton or blue cheese, and a little melted butter and lemon juice mixed.

Pre-heat oven to 200C. Grease baking trays. Rinse and dry the asparagus and bend the spears near the blunt end until they snap – discard the blunt bits. Crumble the blue cheese to the consistency of dryish scrambled eggs by gently pulsing it in a food processor.

Cut each sheet of pastry into four squares. Rotate the squares 45 degrees – so that there is a pointy bit at the top and bottom. For each portion spread a heaped teaspoon of cheese down the middle of the square and place two pieces of asparagus on top of the cheese – the ends should not extend beyond the pastry. Lightly brush the asparagus with the melted lemony butter and season to taste. Fold the left corner of the pastry over the asparagus and then the right corner* over that to form an open-ended parcel. (*Or vice versa.)

Place on trays and bake for 15 minutes or, depending on the oven, until nicely puffed and golden. Serve as a side dish. For finger food, follow the same procedure but cut each sheet of pastry into nine squares and trim the asparagus to length. Accompany with a Clare riesling or a Hunter Valley semillon. Maybe a Yarra Valley pinot noir. But not a solid red, which would clash with the blue cheese.

I was doing a re boxing of some of the oldies in the cellar earlier this afternoon and found a slight leak in one of the old Chateau Tahbilk boxes. This lead me to a 1965 Chateau Tahbilk* commercial [as distinct from their Reserve Bin labels] Shiraz. I figured that with an inch of ullage I couldn’t sell it, so off to find the muslin, funnel and carafe and corkscrew.

Well. Hugh Johnson’s comments in his pocket wine guide in the mid 1960s echoed true. ”Chateau Tahbilk has some of the finest commercial reds, and the reserve bins are outstanding and great value….”

Was this ‘once upon a time’, quote still valid? Well for the humble ’65 Shiraz (deserving of a reserve status) Hugh’s words were an understatement.

The wine threw little crust and surprisingly passed the 100 watt globe test. (Viz, you couldn’t see through the wine to see the 100W globe). The nose was a little dumb, perhaps allowing for the ullage, but still with some perfume.

The colour was a balance between red and chocolate, with the red just winning out, but the fruit was unexpectedly MASSIVE. Not at all a limp, tannic dull wine, but potentially pickable as a declining 12 or 15 year old heavy fruited  commercial red. This wine is now 48 years of age. (1965 was my last year of primary school). The palate saw the fruit very much overpower the tannins, producing a full, across the palate dry finish of big fruit and solid underlying tannins.

An unbelievable red for its mere commercial nature. But again, the range of 1962, 64, 65, 66.68 and 69 Tahbilks are a legend to the Aussie cognoscenti but not to the world at large. Tsk Tsk, a shame!!!

For the unquestioning believers of the trite wine authors that suggest few wines can peak past 20 years I would suggest that several icons can certainly last the 40 year mark, this being one of them.

*The brand name Chateau Tahbilk later changed to Tahbilk.

Frangi from Melbourne writes, “My circle of friends are of an age where we are often asked to attend weddings and engagements. We don’t expect these functions to provide top class restaurant food and wine but the wine we’re served is usually awful. We call it “reception wine” and it is often of a quality that would strip the enamel off a hippo’s tusks. As a result, a friend has taken to sneaking in his own wine and surreptitiously drinks it instead of the provided stuff. Do you think this is proper behaviour for invited guests?”

Hi Frangi, yes of course! I know that weddings etc. are not fine wine tasting events but the food and wine should be of a certain standard whatever the budget. And as the Bible tells us, did not Jesus, in his first miracle as a guest at a wedding in Cana of Galilee, turn the contents of six pots, each holding two or three firkins of water, into wine?

In my younger days the wines were also dodgy and the food was probably worse. Believe it or not, for years (still?) there was a hideous convention where men were served beef and the women fish or chicken – while the bridal party sneered from a dais helping themselves to top shelf tucker and booze.

Your friend has the right idea, though he might draw the line at taking a picnic hamper to some of the more infamous reception houses. And I can recommend a hip flask of Cognac and an emergency stash of Tabasco when you are entering unknown territory (including some restaurants, which shall remain nameless). It has worked for me.

I have only one thing to say to wedding planners: even if the bride has to wear a second-hand frock and the groom a pair of old Levis, make sure you look after the guests.

Unlike eating at El Bulli, with all the basic flaws that I listed in a blog review back then (basically: monotonous mushiness of all dishes, complete lack of consideration for wine, fundamental errors in the balance of tastes, manifest desire to mask out any taste associated with the ingredients), eating at El Celler is a precision affair. The techniques pioneered by Adrià are used here not to make the ingredient’s taste disappear, on the contrary, tastes are exalted and therefore Joan Roca uses prime local seasonal produce. Instead of making mushy or explosive or simply acrid morsels to shock a jaded decadent bourgeoisie like the master of Cala Montjoi, Roca keeps everything under control and always perfectly delicious and varied. In addition he develops a kind of narrative about an imaginary world tour, exploring the intricate relations between the local Mediterranean traditions and the many exchanges that happened throughout history between the Mare Nostrum and many faraway places. He is aided by his brothers, Josep, a brilliant sommelier with an interest in all wine (and not just Spanish), and Jordi, a pastry chef of incredible talent.

The pleasure of the food is augmented by that particular Spanish habit of selling wine at reasonable markups, typically half the price with respect to their French counterparts. Thus one can be a little more adventurous with the wine selection, without having to worry too much about the budget. In this case we started with a screamingly good wine from Burgundy, a 2008 Chassagne-Montrachet Premier Cru Boudriotte by Domaine Ramonet at 63 Euro. At the same time, in preparation for the later meat dishes, we had the sommelier open a 2007 Volnay Premier Cru Les Caillerets by H. Boillot (90 Euro).

It all began with pre-appetizers, and the first one was visually stunning and really deserves a prize, a wood and steel sculpture representing the world and carrying 5 teaspoon-sized spheres in orbit:
• Mexico (guacamole, tomato seed, tomato water and coriander),
• Peru (ceviche bouillon),
• Scandinavia (a white ball of frozen yoghurt, radish, dill and radish flower),
• Morocco (almond, rose, honey, saffron, ras el hanout, goat yoghurt), and
• Japan (miso, dashi cream, nyinyonyaki tempura). Each bite is a different temperature, consistency and taste.

This spectacular overture was followed by 6 more mignardises:
• caramelized olives, served hanging from a bonsai olive tree, each person gets to pick two,
• crunchy fried fish,
• a sphere of Carpano vermouth with grapefruit and black sesame,
• a bite-sized artichoke omelet,
• a white Alba truffle bonbon, and
• a white truffle brioche.

Needless to say, by then the bottle of Chassagne-Montrachet was half-full, but to us it was looking dangerously half-empty, and we had not even begun the meal proper, this was just a lot of pre-appetizers… so we took out insurance with another white, a Condrieu 2005 by Gangloff at 90 Euro.

The meal per se began with 3 appetizers based on ingredients from the Catalan countryside:
• green wheat with smoked sardine, grapes, olive oil toasted bread ice cream and yeast foam,
• Olivade – mousse of sharp gordal olives, a fritter of black olives, an ice cream of manzanilla olives, toasted bread with olive oil, fennel jelly, mountain sorrel jelly and picual olives,
• white asparagus Viennetta,

The green wheat dish was remarkable, with many brilliant variations around the theme of bread, with the added pungency of a taste previously unknown to me, green wheat. The Viennetta looks exactly like the infamous industrial Viennetta ice cream, except that this one is made with real milk and asparagus; it helped clean the palate in preparation for 4 seafood dishes:
• lightly poached oyster served with a hollandaise sauce flavored with roast venison juices;
• grilled prawn served so that you eat every part of it, the head juices served with seaweed, sea water and a plankton cake;
• sea bream with endive, gentian flower and citrus;
• cod brandade with braised cod tripe, cod foam, olive oil soup, onions, honey, pepper, thyme.

It became clear that Roca was bringing us on a food trip around the world. We began with a supersonic two-minute flight around the world stopping in America, Northern Europe, Africa and Asia, followed by a tour of Catalunya’s hills leading to a tour of its fishing villages.

At each stop there are hints of themes to come, just like in a symphony, where the themes of later movements may be preannounced with hints during the ouverture or the earlier movements.

The brandade is a significant moment in the composition, its whiteness and the traditionally Scandinavian origin of dried cod tie in with that frozen yoghurt ball we had at the very beginning. For centuries, imported dried cod was a staple for traditional cooking around the Mediterranean, so the connection is perfect. The earlier green wheat dish featured a smoked sardine, again hinting at the deep Mediterranean plunge to come, and reflecting the “mar i muntanya” (surf and turf) tradition of Catalan cooking.

We had not quite finished the Condrieu but our Volnay had been quietly aerating and was in perfect form for the 3 meat dishes:
• Blanquette of Iberian suckling pig with Riesling
• Red mullet cooked at low temperature
• Ventreche and thymus gland of lamb grilled on a wood fire with aubergine, coffee and licorice.
• Wood pigeon liver and onion with caramelized nuts and curry, juniper, citrus zest and herbs

In conclusion, 3 desserts:
• Candied apple from the Gerona fairs
• Milk chocolate soup, butter ice cream, praline cream, chocolate caramel
• Maple syrup cream, pear, hazelnuts and cardamom

We left with the confirmation that the Rocas have elevated their art to a stunning level, while preserving the simplicity of the family roots of their cooking experience. My friend Jean Paul Barrilade has confided that he loves this place so much, he has booked it for his birthday every year until he dies. That’s what Roca cooking does to you!

Knappstein Clare Valley Hand Picked Riesling 2012 – $20 – 92/100. A nose of citrus blossoms and lime zest. Light and elegant in the mouth, well structured with citrus fruitiness which at first seems sweet but then progresses into a lingering dry finish.

Forester Estate Sauvignon Blanc 2012 – $25 – 89/100. Margaret River, Western Australia. Ripe kiwi fruit scented nose with subtle notes of barrel fermentation. A fuller flavoured style of SB with underlying oak toastiness and good length. Would go well as an entrée wine.

De Bortoli Noble One Botrytis Semillon 2008 – $33 – 95/100. Perfumey nose reminiscent of cumquat marmalade. The palate expands with essence of nobly rotted semillon and if this were a dessert you would have to liken it to a superior lemon meringue pie. A superb after dinner drink.

Chambers Rutherglen Noble Muscadelle 2011 – $15 – 89/100. Muscadelle is the grape from which the great fortified “Tokays” of Rutherglen were made. Australian winemakers are no longer allowed to use that name and instead must call them “Topaque”. Not a word I am fond of… This wine is of the same variety but made in the “Noble” style. The nose is, if you can imagine, reminiscent of Seville marmalade on toast. The palate is clean, sweet but not cloying, and finishes with just enough acidity to balance. Try with a cheese platter.

Moss Wood Pinot Noir 2009 – $53 – 95/100. Margaret River, Western Australia. Pale, youthful, light cherry hues. Appealing nose of strawberries and judicious oak usage. The palate is delicious from the first sip to the last and the fruit and wood are integrated beautifully. “Another bottle please, waiter!”

Zema Estate Cabernet Sauvignon 2009 – $29 – 90/100. Coonawarra, South Australia. Deep ruddy hues in the glass. A robust style with a warm nose of summer berries and plums, and faint oak. A firm full palate displays mature fruit with earthy undertones and assertive tannins towards the end. Well-suited to main course fare.

Fox Creek Reserve Shiraz 2008 – $70 – 92/100. McLaren Vale, South Australia. Deep crimson, purple edges. Aromatic with sweet blackberry and a hint of anise to the nose. Generously flavoured in the mouth with hints of blackberry conserve, liquorice and dark chocolate. Firm but not aggressive tannic astringency demands well seasoned tucker.

Borsao Seleccion Grenache Blend 2011 – around $12 – 89/100. From the Moncayo region in north east Spain. Mid to deep red. Warm nose of berry fruits. Mid-weighted but full-flavoured in the mouth. A dry style with soft tannins. Easy drinking on its own or good with main course dishes. Great value.

Chateau Tanunda Terroirs of the Barossa Ebenezer District Shiraz 2010 – $48- 92/100. Deep purple to black in colour. Spicy complex nose with edges of mulberry and some savoury undertones. Rich and flavoursome, it presents intense fruit characters along with hints of mocha and leather.

Auldstone Liqueur Muscat 500ml – $30 – 91/100. Glenrowan, Victoria. Pleasing light russet shades. Bouquet of dark fruit cake and maybe toffee. Rich thick and intense raisiny notes typical of Glenrowan fruit, along with a savoury mocha edge. A lovely dessert style. Try also poured over vanilla ice cream or incorporated into a whipped cream topping.

Crystal Head Vodka - around $80 the 700ml bottle. A quadruple distilled Canadian vodka in a striking skull shaped bottle. The package blurb tells us that the spirit goes through seven filtration processes and, as you might expect, the result is incredibly smooth and clean. Like many, I prefer vodka as a cocktail rather than straight. This one makes an excellent Blue Monday. Shake three measures of Crystal Head to one of Cointreau (or Blue Curacao) with plenty of ice, strain into glass, splash with a few drops of Fee Brothers Lemon Bitters, enjoy.

La Verte au Genepi - 330ml – $7. A greenish-hued beer made with glacier water from Mont Blanc combined with absinthe-like alcohol based on Artemisia (wormwood) flowers. Sweetish beer taste with a little herbal bitterness at the finish. As I taste I starting to see strange green flashes. Oh – it’s lightning.

Ratings

95-100 – Gold

90-94 – Silver

85-89 – Bronze

80–84 – Good drinking

By Barbara Santich. Illustrated hardback. Wakefield Press 2012. $50.

This excellent book traces the post European settlement history of Australian food and cuisine. Bush tucker, pumpkin scones, picnic races, the Aussie BBQ, mutton chops, pies ‘n’sauce – it’s all there, and more. The test is peppered with excerpts from old books and newspapers and larded with photographs and retro illustrations.

Most fascinating to me is the chapter on our national cuisine. Way back then and to this day it seems no-one can agree on whether we have one or not. Judging by local Queensland menus “Modern Australian” is a cross between Surf ‘n’Turf or possibly Mooloolaba prawns followed by slow-cooked pork belly.

If you’re looking for a gift for a foodie you can’t go past this. In fact it is just the book that I would unwrap with delight.

There seem to be two main arguments for the rise in taxes. The first assumes that cheap wine is the main cause of alcohol abuse and that a price increase would reduce this. The second is that wine is taxed at a lower rate than beer and spirits and that for reasons of uniformity it should be taxed at the same rate as other beverages.

Politicians, who probably never drink cask or cheap wine, will be attracted by both arguments, especially the financial one. As cask wine accounts for some 50 percent of wine sold in Australia, a new wine tax could raise over a billion dollars in extra revenue.

The problem is that making cheap wine more expensive is unlikely to prevent alcoholism, binge drinking and other alcohol misuse. For example, even the total prohibition of alcohol in America in the 1920s failed to abolish excessive alcohol consumption. In fact it had the opposite effect and created an industry of widespread illegal drinking and related criminality.

Another factor apparently not considered by lobbyists is that substance abuse is not a price issue. Like other addicts, alcoholics and binge drinkers will over-indulge in wine and other alcohol no matter what the cost.

To my knowledge the great majority of wine drinkers in Australia are moderate users who use wine as part of the dining experience and even enjoy an occasional glass of cask vin ordinaire. In my opinion they should not be penalised as a consequence of the activities of a minority of problem drinkers. Further, the people who will suffer most from a proposed tax increase are not abusers but those who cannot afford to buy expensive wine.

If the wowsers and do-gooders have a win on this one, next thing they will demand is tobacco type restrictions. That is, the introduction of graphic warnings and plain packaging on alcohol.

Vanya Cullen in Noosa

Cullen Wines not only has a reputation for superb, long-lived wines but also for its “green” credentials. Since its establishment over 40 years ago the company’s winery and vineyards have achieved certification as being organic, biodynamic and carbon neutral. A trifecta perhaps unique in Australian winemaking.

“Why green? I asked Vanya.

“In the late 1990s my mother and I could see that the soil and vines were not that healthy. Intuitively we went towards organic viticulture and noticed a big difference within a year. We became an Australian certified organic property in 2003 and at the end of that year we went to a biodynamic workshop. It’s a way of farming that integrates the movement of the planets and homeopathic remedies that were described by Rudolph Steiner.”

I asked Vanya how she reconciled those beliefs with scientific winemaking. “I don’t,” she replied. “I think it’s about experience and intuition. We use science and technology in the winery; but there are some things you know because you have been there. We have observed since being biodynamic that fruit quality and soil health is definitely better.”

Finally, I asked Vanya what style of wine she preferred. “Wines that have a sense of being weightless; not heavy and thick and alcoholic, Wines that have balance, complexity, depth of flavour and length. And of course every great wine has to have something that is a mystery.”

This article was first published in Noosa Today, on 14 September 2012.