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Peter Gago, Penfolds Grange meister, working hard

Read how Peter’s Grange show was summed up by Jancis Robinson, James Suckling & Harvey Steiman

Penfolds' Showcase WinesHarvey Steiman, Wine Spectator MagazinePosted: 02:49 PM ET, November 04, 2008

When Penfolds rolls out some of its best wines for a retrospective tasting, the results can make a powerful case of just how good Australia can get. The wines don't need hyperbole, which spokesman Matt Lane nonetheless indulged in when he welcomed a mixed group of trade and media in San Francisco by calling it "one of the most spectacular tastings most of us have been to."

The event was held last Friday at Cellar 360, the lavish San Francisco tasting room opened last year by Foster's Wine Estates, whose portfolio includes Beringer, Etude, Chateau St. Jean and Stags' Leap Winery in California, not to mention Penfolds, Wolf Blass, Coldstream Hills and Devil's Lair in Australia. The dozen wines arrayed before us represented a sort of mini version of "The Rewards of Patience," a multi-day series of vertical tastings that Penfolds stages periodically in Australia.

As in the Australian event, the panel leading the tasting included Penfolds' chief winemaker Peter Gago and senior winemaker Steve Lienert, plus an international panel of commentators: Andrew Caillard of Langton's, Australia's leading wine auctioneer and author of a book detailing the big tasting, plus writers Poh Tiong Chn'g from Singapore, Anthony Rose from the U.K. and Joseph Ward from the U.S.

That may have been overkill for just a dozen wines, cherry-picked to demonstrate both the range of styles Penfolds produces and how well they can age. But being technically independent of Penfolds, their enthusiasm for the wines carried a bit more weight than Gago's or Lienert's would have.

It's not news to report that Grange 1990 and 1991, Bin 707 1990 and St. Henri 1991 and 1998 showed beautifully. Those are great vintages of acknowledged great wines. And I try never to miss a chance to sip some Bin 60A 1962, one of the world's great wines.

A equal-opportunity blend of Coonawarra Cabernet Sauvignon and Barossa Shiraz, the wine achieved something magical that more recent attempts have never quite caught. In several opportunities to renew acquaintances with this wine, the good bottles showed a harmony and seamlessness to their amazing range of flavors that is simply breathtaking.

The Bin 60A in my glass this time came from a marvelous bottle. When first poured it seemed typically mature and harmonious, underlying a wispy core of black cherry fruit with tobacco, earth and mint tones. But as it sat in the glass, the fruit got richer, the texture more silky and any semblance of seams disappeared. That's what a great wine is all about. A 100-point bottle, non blind.

But the head-turner for me in this non-blind tasting was how rewarding the winery's Koonunga Hill bottling can get with bottle age. The 1986 Shiraz-Cabernet showed a remarkably fresh core of plum and currant fruit that played against tobacco notes and fine tannins. The '96 was almost as fine, with crisp texture, focused fruit, impressive length and refinement. I rated the older wine 90 points, the younger 89, both non-blind.

"Remember, these wines were for commercial release," Rose noted. "They were not intended for cellaring." Indeed, the '86 was released in the U.S. at $8 a bottle, the '96 at $9. How many other sub-$10 wines are still alive and kicking at 12 and 22 years?

Another moderately priced wine, Bin 389, a Cabernet-Shiraz, sells for $35 now, but through the 1980s and 1990s it was $14 to $15. Unlike some fine older bottles of this wine, the 1976 poured here was well past it. It smelled volatile, the sharpness and earthiness overwhelming the fruit character. The panel raved about it, but Gago remained silent, and later confided his disappointment in the wine's showing. My rating: 81 points, non-blind.

Better was Bin 407 1998, a Cabernet Sauvignon that's often thought of as the junior brother of Bin 707. Still firm, but not too grippy, it offered a lovely warm currant and berry character, with a savory edge. Very good, but it lacked the extra dimensions to get to 90 points. My rating: 88 points, non-blind.

Things started to improve with St. Henri, Penfolds' Shiraz that uses no new oak at all to emphasize the fruit. I preferred the sweet, focused, open-textured flavors of the 1991, which seemed to float over the palate (94 points, non-blind), to the 1998, which was chewy in texture but showed a chocolate note that was pleasing (91 points, non-blind). The wines sell for $40, a fraction of the price of Grange, but they seem to age as long.

Next came two solid examples of higher-end stuff (just under $100 a bottle). RWT 2002, the all-Barossa Shiraz aged in French oak barrels, represents the modern style in Penfolds' range. From a very cool vintage, it was focused and bright, showing lots of blueberry and blackberry flavors, the oak subsumed into the wine (92 points, non-blind). The Bin 707 1990 represented itself as a classic Cabernet, with subtlety and harmony, a savory edge adding refinement to the currant, plum and sage flavors, balancing on lacy acidity (92 points, non-blind).

After the remarkable Bin 60A came a chance to taste the two adjacent vintages of Grange. Aficionados still debate which was better, 1990 (which was Wine Spectator Wine of the Year in 1995) or 1991. "I keep going back and forth from one tasting to the next," said Gago. "Today, I like the 1990."

I did, too. I was most impressed with its elegance. It's not a big, honking red but something with great length and succulence. The acidity keeps it upright and the plush texture supports the cascade of ripe fruit and spice flavors beautifully. Still worth 98 points (non-blind) in my book. The 1991, though bigger and with great focus to the fruit, seemed just a tad less opulent and expressive. With more apparent tannin, it is taking longer to reach its top plateau. For me, 96 points (non-blind) seems about right.

In a show of hands, 1990 got a slight edge.

All these wines have one thing in common. They are not single-vineyard wines, but blended from various sites to achieve a consistent style. Wine drinkers who are wedded to the pre-eminence of terroir may shudder at the idea, but Penfolds' winemakers consciously try to overcome the deficiencies of a especially cool or hot vintage by selecting wines made from sites that, when blended together, make the best wine they can.

Which is not to say that terroir doesn't matter. The core of Bin 707, for example, is Block 42, an all-Cabernet portion of the Kalimna Vineyard in Barossa Valley. In outstanding vintages, there is enough Block 42 to make a separate bottling of it. It is a very different wine from 707, purer in fruit character but not as complex as 707, which uses other old-vine parcels.

Gago noted that in 2002, a cool vintage that made it difficult to get all the Cabernet ripe, he looked for fruit from warmer sites to compensate and take what would have been a hard edge off the wine if he had not done so.

"We chose different vineyards, with different vine-training, to come up with a style of wine people expect from 707," he said.

That's similar to what winemakers in Bordeaux do, where they vary the amounts of Merlot, Cabernet Franc or Petit Verdot they use, depending on which grapes do best in a given vintage. "We use 100 percent Cabernet Sauvignon in Bin 707," Gago added, "so we shop around for other vineyard resources with different characteristics."

It's still terroir-based, in that it focuses on individual locations, except it blends them into an ensemble instead of relying on a solo voice. That works for me, and the wines shown in this tasting amply demonstrate how rewarding the process can prove

Australia’s greatest glory revisited

By Jancis Robinson

Published: October 18 2008 01:25 | Last updated: October 18 2008 04:35

Just as the Australian wine industry battles to demonstrate that it can do more than churn out inexpensive, technically perfect, fast-fade Shiraz and Chardonnay from its rapidly dessicating irrigated inland wine regions, up pops a young Lebanese restaurateur to remind us of its greatest glory.

Wine lover Marlon Abela, the son of a highly successful airline caterer, owns a growing transatlantic restaurant empire that exists, one cannot help suspecting, at least partly as an excuse for his spectacular wine collection and his company Marc Fine Wines. He has been feeling for some time that Penfolds Grange, officially designated a heritage icon by the Australian National Trust, has been “unfairly eclipsed recently by more concentrated wines – from California, for example – but Grange is the first New World wine to have shown that it can last over half a century”.

Accordingly, he put on a tasting at his Michelin-starred Greenhouse restaurant in Mayfair last week to showcase 22 of the finest vintages of this marvel back to the famous 1955. He also invited the current winemaker of Grange, the affable Peter Gago, who happened to be in London at the time. At first, Gago tried to lead the tasting, held over a marathon dinner for a dozen of us, but soon gave up. He realised that the real pro-Grange force field was at the other end of the table where Abela was flanked by Serena Sutcliffe of Sotheby’s wine department, who declared her undying love for this essence of South Australian Shiraz. “It’s simply not getting the price it should,” she declared, “except in Australia, and for the really old vintages.” (Grange costs upwards of £100 a bottle even for less-favoured vintages but less than half of it is made than, say, Château Lafite.)

Gago is dispatched around the world regularly to beat the drum for Penfolds’ top wines and he reckons there is a relatively small number of serious collectors of Grange, mainly in the US and Australia – but at least they drink it. One of Penfolds’ PR activities is to hold “recorking clinics” round the world, for those who have the odd old bottle and don’t want it to deteriorate because of superannuated cork. So far, Penfolds has recorked 95,000 bottles. “People love the theatre of it,” says Gago, “but it’s been too successful. I spend my time now telling them to drink it, not wait till it falls off the perch. A lot of counselling goes on at those clinics, I can tell you. And our competitors love it, of course, because we’re educating their customers.”

Grange was the brainchild of Max Schubert, Penfolds’ chief winemaker, who was sent to snoop around Europe in 1950 and, inspired by great old bordeaux, flew back to Australia mentally designing an Australian red that would last at least 20 years. There was not enough Cabernet Sauvignon to play with at the time so, with great prescience, he decided to use top-quality Shiraz instead, initially choosing vineyards at Magill and Morphett Vale (neither in the Barossa Valley at this early experimental stage), with great care. The early vintages were so different – dominated, unusually, by new oak with much riper tannins and greater extraction than the prevailing norm – that they were initially dismissed as tasting like “dry port” and had to be made virtually in secret for some time. Finally, after about 10 vintages, Penfolds allowed Schubert to submit Grange 1955 to the all-important Sydney Show where it won a gold medal, the first of 50 before it was retired from the show circuit.

I came across similarly conservative reactions when I brought a bottle of Grange 1982 back from Australia to share with members of the French wine establishment on Bernard Pivot’s popular Apostrophes television show in 1988, only to see it dismissed as “un vin de pharmacien” (a chemist’s wine). It is true that, in its youth, Grange can be a bit much – all tannin, tar and camphor. It takes many years to evolve into a gorgeously sweet, luscious, exotic elixir.
. . .
At Abela’s dinner, we tasted from oldest (1955) to youngest (2002), and none of the wines younger than the 1991 was anything like ready for drinking, while the wines made since the 1996 vintage seemed to belong to a new and different era, with even greater care taken with the selection of fruit (“more time in the vineyards, less dusty tannins, basket not continuous press” was how Gago put it). He was personally responsible only for the youngest wine of the evening, Grange 2002, a wonderfully fresh, energetic marvel that I would ideally drink between 2020 and 2040.

I had not tasted such an array of Grange since 1988 when at Penfolds’ headquarters at Nuriootpa in the Barossa Valley, in the company of Max Schubert. We tasted back from a cask sample of 1988 to 1978, plus the then-embryonic 1971 (my, and the group’s, favourite in London the other night), 1966 and the famous 1955, which already seemed to be waning in 1988. Two bottles of each wine were opened at the Greenhouse and only one of the bottles of 1955 was in good health. It was so gamey and gentle, apparently waving a rather weak farewell, that I foolishly allowed one of the Greenhouse’s waiters to remove my glass. Fortunately, my neighbour Jean-Marc Heurlière of MARC Fine Wines was wiser and I was able to admire the extent to which it almost miraculously gained richness over two or three hours in the glass.

Twenty years ago, incidentally, I was told that the reason Grange was as intensely flavoured as it was, was because Max Schubert had been told on joining Penfolds that he had to (a) learn to smoke and then (b) make wines powerful enough to penetrate the atmosphere in the company’s then smoke-filled dining rooms. But while Grange has always been intensely flavoured and fairly heady, it is not designed to be Australia’s most concentrated nor its most alcoholic wine. The 1971, which was the favourite of six of us recently (the 1955 attracting four votes and the 1976 two), has the extremely modest alcohol level of 12.3%, and Gago says they are even now aiming to have Grange below 13.5%.

Subject: FW: Wine Spectator.com - James Suckling Blog - Oct 3, 2008

http://www.winespectator.com/Wine/Blogs/Blog_Main/0,4210,7,00.html

James Suckling Uncorked

James Suckling

Grange Hermitage: Balance with Power

Posted: 04:19 PM ET, October 03, 2008

I went to an amazing tasting of Penfolds Grange last night in London, organized by Marlon Abela, the well-known restaurateur who owns such high-end eateries as The Greenhouse (a Wine Spectator Grand Award winner), Morton's Club and Umu in London as well as A Voce in New York. Abela is a long time collector of the famous Australian red and he said that he wanted to organize the tasting of 22 vintages to prove that Grange was as collectible as any of the other great, mega-buck New World wines.

"I don't understand how Grange can sell for a fraction of the price of some of the top California Cult wines or any of the other New World collectibles," he said while sitting next to me at The Greenhouse, where the tasting took place.

Serena Sutcliff, the head of Sotheby's Wine Department, was sitting across the table from me, and added how Grange is a difficult wine to find in auctions because it is a "a wine for drinkers." She said that "most people who have it don't sell it."

The vintages in the tasting included most of the classics from 1955 to 2002. The 1955 is apparently what put Grange on the map, even though the first commercially available one came out in 1952. The 1955 showed fabulous complexity on the nose and palate and layered soft tannins. It reminded me of a Côte-Rôtie 30 years younger, with its plum and chocolate character that turned to meat and game. It was made from 90 percent Shiraz and 10 percent Cabernet Sauvignon. I scored it 98 points, non-blind.

Some people preferred the 1960 that followed, which has a slightly more refined character to it. It was more polished than the 1955. I gave it 95 points, non-blind. The 1962 was bigger and richer than the 1960, with loads of dried dark fruits and raspberries, like a dry Port. 97 points, non-blind. It only had 12.2 percent alcohol, unlike the others, which were pushing 14.

We worked through the 1960s and then the 1970s. My favorite wine of the tasting was the 1971 -- a long-time favorite of Abela's, too. The wine was so rich, opulent and sexy with chocolate, carmalized bananas, licorice, crushed fruits on the nose and palate. It was full and soft yet restrained and balanced. It was a perfect wine that night. 100 points, non-blind.

Penfolds' chief winemaker, Peter Gago, came to the tasting, and he, of course, gave the rundown on the winemaking and some of the details, even legends, of certain vintages. But some of the most revealing things that he said were about the style of wine they were searching for.

"Some people expect to see Grange as Australia's most opulent wine, or most concentrated or biggest, but we are not looking for that," he said. "We are trying to find the balance. That's our pursuit."

Balance with power was an underlying theme throughout the tasting, as the dozen or so tasters worked their way through the lineup of wines over dinner. It was impressive how the wines changed in the glass as well.

I found with the old wines that first impressions were often slightly wrong . The most rich and opulent wines were often later surpassed in quality by the more reserved and balanced ones.

Grange is clearly one of the great collectible wines in the world. And it has the track record and quality to prove it. I will give you full tasting notes on Monday.

James Suckling Uncorked

Message in the Bottle from Grange

Posted: 10:19 AM ET, October 06, 2008

Looking at all the responses from last week's blog about the Grange vertical, it’s obvious that Australia’s most famous red has a strong following.

This juicy red was voluptuous, to say the least. It was like a strip tease when you poured it in the glass. I couldn’t believe how it evolved. First impressions are often useless. The older Granges continued to get better, even fruitier, as they were in the glass in front of me, and they had been double decanted hours before the tasting.

I enjoyed the challenge of deciding which wines I preferred in the different flights. They were served in groups according to decades. Often, I would initially choose the most obvious wine at first pouring, but slowly but surely the meekest, or most reserved, Grange would come out the best. Grange is a wine you can spend the night with.

I think the wines start coming into their own with about 20 years of bottle age. If you drink them before, you get mostly the fruit and fatness of youth – which can also be enticing. But the money you pay is for the ability to age and deliver something very special at the end of 20 or 30 years in bottle.

Marlon Abela, the owner of the Wine Spectator Grand Award-winning Greenhouse Restaurant in London and others, who laid on the tasting, also poured blind a couple of pirate wines. I almost got them right (usually I am miles out!) declaring the first one 1978 Guigal La Landonne and the second one 1985 Guigal La Turque. In fact, they were the 1978 Jaboulet Hermitage La Chapelle and the 1990 Guigal La Turque.

Just for the record, the La Turque was amazing, with grilled meat, game, stewed fruits and black pepper all over. It was rich and flavorful yet silky and racy. Beautiful now to drink. 96 points, non-blind. I wasn’t sure, but the 1978 La Chapelle didn’t seem to be a perfect bottle. It had too much minty character, which suggested that it was slightly corked, but underneath it had loads of black olive, currants and pepper. 93 points, non-blind.

Anyway, the legendary Northern Rhônes were a different world compared to the Aussie. They were much more austere and racy. They were just completely different animals, as they should be. The night was for the flashy, sexy Australian.

Here are my tasting notes of all the wines. They were not served blind. I must say that I was surprised with the scores in the database of the older wines. They seem low. Perhaps I am being too generous? But I was so excited by their richness and freshness I couldn’t help myself. And I think if you get a chance to taste, or better yet drink, a very old Grange, you won't be disappointed.

1955: This is the Grange that put the opulent Aussie on the map. And it’s still a gorgeous wine. Aromas and flavors of mushrooms with plum, chocolate, raspberry and spices that turn to game, it reminds me of a Côte-Rôtie from the 1980s. It's still full-bodied, soft and balanced with lovely velvety tannins. Gotta love it. 90 percent Shiraz, 10 percent Cabernet Sauvignon. 98 points, non-blind.

1960: This is more Hermitage-like than the 1955, with less of the gamy but more of the bright fruit and minerally undertones. It still shows a lot of raspberry jam character on the nose and palate. Some vanilla is coming out too. Full and silky. 92 percent Shiraz and 8 percent Cabernet Sauvignon. 95 points, non-blind.

1962: Reminds me of an aged vintage Port on the nose with plums, prunes, mint and toffee. It's full and silky with a lovely freshness to it. Dark color. Very, very long and flavorful. Crushed grapes on the palate. 87 percent Shiraz and 13 percent Cabernet Sauvignon. 96 points, non-blind.

1963: Pure fruit here. It is full and velvety with loads of raspberry jam and licorice character that transforms into earth, tobacco and cedar with hints of chocolate. Complex wine. Friendly, round and cuddly. 100 percent Shiraz. 94 points, non-blind.

1965: I was a little surprised with the nose, which came across like a top vintage of Heitz Martha’s due to the eucalyptus, mint and crushed berry aromas. But the palate was very Grange with loads of chocolate and raspberry character and long, silky tannins. 95 percent Shiraz and 5 percent Cabernet Sauvignon. 93 points, non-blind.

1966: This has much more full-throttle fruit character than the 1965, with blackberries all over the place, but then it evolves to tar, dried mushroom and light earth. Fascinating wine. Full and round with lots of blackberry jam. There is a touch of dryness in the tannins that suggest immediate drinking. 94 percent Shiraz and 6 percent Cabernet Sauvignon. 94 points, non-blind.

1967: This is a little funky with a good amount of volatile acidity showing but it doesn't turn me off. It shows lots of toasted oak, dark chocolate, grilled steaks and ripe fruit on the nose and palate. Full and chewy with dried meat and cherry flavors. It’s a juicy wine that makes you hungry. 94 percent Shiraz and 6 percent Cabernet Sauvignon. 92 points, non-blind.

1971: My favorite of the night. This is such a sexy and exciting wine. It is truly hedonistic. It shows aromas of ripe and rich raspberry and prune fruit that turns to sweet tobacco, cedar, grilled meat and dried mushrooms with just a hint of mint. It is full and ultra-velvety with a texture that caresses every millimeter of your palate. I am in love. 87 percent Shiraz and 6 percent Cabernet Sauvignon. 100 points, non-blind.

1975: Poor 1975, following the sex bomb 1971. Drinking this is like taking a librarian out on date. But still, it’s attractive and intellectual with currant jam, mint, and licorice aromas that follow through to a medium body, with fine tannins and a jammy, minerally finish. 90 percent Shiraz and 10 percent Cabernet Sauvignon. 92 points, non-blind.

1976: This was a wine that really developed in the glass, and after about 30 minutes it exploded with smoky, meaty, jammy and toffee character. It even seemed like caramelized bananas at one point. Full and silky with a very, very fine tannin structure. It lasted for minutes on the palate. 89 percent Shiraz and 11 percent Cabernet Sauvignon. 94 points, non-blind.

1978: Very complex and rich. I love the tarragon, jammy, licorice and berry character in this wine. It's full-bodied, with rich velvety tannins and a long, fruit-driven finish. It is still very youthful and exciting. It will only get better with time. 90 percent Shiraz and 10 percent Cabernet Sauvignon. 95 points, non-blind.

1982: Soft and fruity, the wine shows lots of blackberry, mint and Porty aromas and flavors. It's full, round and caressing, yet structured and poised. Love the Christmas pudding aftertaste with hints of prunes. 94 percent Shiraz and 6 percent Cabernet Sauvignon. Drink now. 93 points, non-blind.

1986: This seems like a blend of the 1983 and the 1982 with its prune, berry and eucalyptus aromas and flavors. It's full and velvety with lots of Porty character that turns to toffee and coffee. Juicy and yummy. 87 percent Shiraz and 13 percent Cabernet Sauvignon. 94 points, non-blind.

1990: Spec’s Wine of the Year in 1995, this is the best modern Grange to date with fabulous aromas of currants, plums, cherries and licorice that turn to wild berries and hints of game. It's very full and jammy yet tight and firm. It has it all. Give it time still. Best after 2013. 95 percent Shiraz and 5 percent Cabernet Sauvignon. 98 points, unon-blind.

1991: The tar, mineral and licorice character with hints of jam and dried porcini suggest that the wine is just about ready to drink. It's full and rich with chocolate, vanilla and berry character. Soft and caressing. Give it another three years or so. 95 percent Shiraz and 5 percent Cabernet Sauvignon. 93 points, non-blind.

1995: Very much like the 1991, but it shows a little more concentration and power. Mineral, mint, Port and blackberry character. It's full and jammy with chewy tannins and a soft and velvety textured finish. Loads going on here. Best after 2013. 89 percent Shiraz and 11 percent Cabernet Sauvignon. 96 points, non-blind.

1996: I wasn't sure that this was a perfect bottle. It was a little disjointed but still showed lots of grilled meat, spice, and berry character. It was full and round but turned a little dry on the finish. Still outstanding though. 94 percent Shiraz and 6 percent Cabernet Sauvignon. 90 points, non-blind.

1998: This is still a little tight and needs some bottle age, but I really enjoy the blackberry, licorice and stewed, jammy fruit on the nose and palate. It's full and thick with loads of licorice and raspberry jammy flavors. The tannins are a little austere still. 97 percent Shiraz and 3 percent Cabernet Sauvignon. Best after 2014. 92 points, non-blind.

1999: What a massive wine, with loads of dried berries, blackberry, dark chocolate and licorice that follows through to a full and layered palate with big ripe tannins and a long finish. Lots of vanilla and jam. Just a baby still. Try it after 2015. 100 percent Shiraz. 94 points, non-blind.

2001: Very much in the style of the 1999, but not quite as concentrated, it shows raspberry, blackberry jam aromas and flavors with an ash, mineral and toasted oak undertone. Full and velvety with lots of ripe tannins and a long finish. Very modern and clean. Try it after 2016. 100 percent Shiraz from Barossa. 93 points, non-blind.

2002: Slightly more raisiny than the 2001, this wine shows lots of peppery, Porty and blackberry aromas with a hint of leafs or stems on the nose and palate. Full-bodied, with high alcohol and a velvety, tannic aftertaste. Powerful. But slightly monolithic. 100 percent Shiraz from Barossa. Best after 2016. 92 points, non-blind.

November 2008