Topic: TN: Syrah noir (New Zealand, pt. 16, long, img)
Author: Thor Iverson (Boston, MA)
Date: 20030923133123

Los Angeles
Darth Vader and the pelvis
New Zealand
Waiheke and the malbec fetish
Five wines with penguin
All in the family
Heaven at the Green Dragon Inn
High, fast, and stupid
The glacial pillow
Training day
Kiwi rugby & the undecanted aria
Boxers and pinot
These mist-covered mountains
Blonde at Brun
A Cloudy day
The road, taken
South, north, east and west
Thieves of sleep

Ornette Coleman blows me awake.

It's a smooth transition: I'm asleep, listening to a chaotic barrage of notes in the squeakier ranges of a soprano sax, or perhaps a badly-constructed clarinet, and then I'm awake, wondering what Ornette Coleman is doing outside our villa, and why there are so many of him. The fog of sleep lifts, but clarifies little.

I wander into the living room, a gloomy, grey light streaming through windows on three sides. The small patch of grass between our patio and the surrounding vines is covered with plump, winged skunks.

"What the hell is that noise?" asks Theresa from the bedroom.

We soon learn that they're magpies, the most unwelcome of Australia's many exports, and we'll be audience to their cacophony for the rest of the trip. But we have little time for their free jazz…we're off to stare at vines.

The great Gadsby

I've visited wineries without tasting wine before (and, in fact, will again on this very trip). What I've never done is visited a winery that couldn't get to its wine. But that's the case today, as Escarpment's viticulturist, Paul Gadsby, points glumly at a pile of construction materials piled against the back end of some insulated 2x4s. "The wine's behind that wall, unfortunately." And indeed, this is an area under intense construction; the second we've seen, after the Central Otago, though this area is both flatter and more apparently inviting to agriculture.

The terraces known as Te Muna are outside the established Martinborough vignoble, and would seem at first glance to be just another of the external vineyard locations that don't get much publicity, but cause this entire winemaking area to be called Wairarapa rather than Martinborough. Except that, for the growers here, the latter association is a clearly desirable one; outside New Zealand, it's the town, not the region, that people know. And as one of the chief architects of that reputation, Larry McKenna (formerly of Martinborough Vineyard) is wise to maintain the link. What remains to be seen, of course, is whether or not the link is a valid one.

It's hard to know without tasting. But taste we can't, and so Gadsby (McKenna is working the market on the South Island) leads us on a tour of what he knows. And what he knows best are the vineyards. Gravel surrounds us, and Gadsby tells us to take a look at the cliff wall just behind the mess of winery construction. "You can see the layers."

"So you didn't have to do core samples?"

He grins. "It makes it kind of easy to see what's down there."

Gadsby leads us into the vines, which range from established youngsters to mere sproutlings. "We're planting mostly pinot noir, plus riesling, pinot gris, and chardonnay. The future, according to Larry, is 1.5 to 1.6 meter spacing," far less than the New Zealand norm. A range of emotions seem to pass over his face - at first dubious, then contemplative, and ending with that worried look all grape growers seem to carry with them like a mask - but it's clear that, despite whatever anxieties he might have, he's a strong advocate for improved fruit intensity through vine abuse, and that he believes in what McKenna is doing. "We're dropping 50% of our fruit, plus some more later on," though this may change in the future as tighter vine spacing and reduced shoot growth become the norm for the vines, which are low-trellised at one meter apart, and carry one bunch per shoot.

And with that, we're done. It's an abrupt visit, but with the resolve to try the wines later (sadly, the bottle I bring back to the States is corked), we take our leave and head back down Te Muna Road to the hamlet of Martinborough, reversing the trip that McKenna took just a few years earlier when he left his former employer to start Escarpment.

[Escarpment vines]

Jeune vignes, indeed

[Escarpment winery]

The lovely Escarpment winery
Mulholland drive

The tasting room at Martinborough Vineyard is in a quaint, sorbet-toned building surrounded by gardens. It is, like so much else here in this peaceful little village, quiet and empty of visitors when we arrive. A bright-eyed woman, well past retirement age, is behind the counter, and she seems happy to have visitors, setting glasses of wine in front of us before we've even had the chance to introduce ourselves and inquire about our appointment. It turns out that she's the proprietress of the Jackson Vineyard, source of the winery's dry and late harvest rieslings.

We're just about to taste our first wine when, hearing the conversation, business manager Janine Tulloch emerges from an office to say hello. After several minutes, we've come to the end of an amiable chat, and are once more raising glasses to lips, when winemaker Claire Mulholland breezes through the tasting room. She's occupied with something oenological, but will join us shortly. And just as quickly, she's out the door. At last, we have a chance to taste some wine, though by this time the glasses first poured for us have gotten a bit warm.

And then in walks Edward Donaldson.

We'd seen the Pegasus Bay marketing guru the night before, at the Martinborough Hotel the night before, so it's not as much of a surprise as it might have been, but it's also a little displacing. Having been prevented from attending a promotional event in Auckland by the previous day's airport closure in Wellington, he's here - girlfriend in tow - to taste some wine on an unexpected day off. Such is the relaxed nature of New Zealand viticulture. And it is thus, as a quartet, that we finally begin our tasting.

Martinborough Vineyard 2002 "Rosé" (Martinborough) - A rosé of pinot noir. Orange, raspberry, and strawberry in a lithe, sweet package. Simple and drinkable.

Martinborough Vineyard 2002 Riesling Jackson Block (Martinborough) - From fourteen-year old vines. Full and slightly fat grapefruit flavors streaked with lime and limestone. Also somewhat simple, but nice enough.

Martinborough Vineyard 2001 Chardonnay (Martinborough) - Concentrated orange and spiced hazelnut, with a light, stony minerality that lingers and builds through a long finish. Very nice, and promising more.

Martinborough Vineyard 2001 Pinot Noir (Martinborough) - Spicy red cherry, plum, black cherry, and earthiness that tends towards graphite, one of my most prized characteristics in a wine. Balanced, showing great polish and maturity of execution.

Martinborough Vineyard 2002 Riesling "Late Harvest" (Martinborough) - Hand-picked from the Jackson Vineyard, 10.5% alcohol, picked at 35º brix and botrytized, with 148 g/l of residual sugar. Very sweet, showing orange and banana flavors with sweet, luscious pineapple and balanced acidity. Very good, though I suspect it will blow out its best fruit earlier, rather than later, in life.

[Claire Mulholland]

We're all behind Claire
Mulholland joins us, having finished whatever she had to do, and she's accompanied by one of her assistants, an enthusiastic young woman named Helen Masters. Having now met the majority of the winery staff, we're off to the winemaking facility, with Edward and his girlfriend still tagging along.

Unfortunately, we can't do any significant barrel tasting, as pretty much everything has been recently sulfured. Mulholland, slight and reserved, yet with a serious sort of soft-spoken intensity that reminds me a little bit of Laurence Faller, instead takes some time to lay out the direction of the winery.

The farming is sustainable and as low-impact as possible, and in fact a lot of replanting is going on, replacing older 10x5 (pinot) and Mendoza (chardonnay) clones with a wider variety of clonal stock, including some newly-arrived Dijon clones. In this, Martinborough mirrors a number of other wineries we've visited in New Zealand. Their gewürztraminer has been uprooted, and though Mulholland also mentions the departure of sauvignon blanc vines, their Web site indicates that production continues in 2003. Still, for all Martinborough Vineyard's reputation and number of wines, they remain a fairly small operation: just 25 hectares, 65% of which are pinot noir.

As for the flagship wine, the philosophy there has changed a bit as well; Mulholland has dropped the "Reserve" designation (formerly reserved for the best lots in great years) from the pinot noirs. Instead, the regular pinot will now represent the best the winery can make, and more fruit will be dropped from the bottom end into a less expensive blend called Te Tera. As Mulholland came to Martinborough after a stint at Gibbston Valley, this practice has the ring of familiarity.

Despite the sulfur, we're able to take a few tentative dips into barrel:

Martinborough Vineyard 2002 Pinot Gris (barrel sample) (Martinborough) - 50% INOX, 50% barrel, and here tasted in a non-malolactic form. Pear, ripe banana and red apple, celery, and a persistent leesy note in a vivid, building finish; there's clearly spectacular potential here, but of course this is only one portion of the blend.

Martinborough Vineyard 2002 Pinot Gris (barrel sample) (Martinborough) - This time from a barrel-aged sample. A little smokier, showing more spiced pear; the acidity is emphasized, which is somewhat surprising to me, and the finish is longer and brighter, but the midpalate is a little dull. The science and art of blending, when one considers the hypothetical melding of these two samples, becomes ever more clear…and the aforementioned "spectacular potential" becomes ever more achievable.

Martinborough Vineyard 2002 Pinot Noir (barrel sample) (Martinborough) - From the Abel, or "Ata Rangi" clone as Mulholland says with a rare smirk (though the joke is lost on me). Red cherry and strawberry, structured and reserved.

Martinborough Vineyard 2002 Pinot Noir (barrel sample) (Martinborough) - Abel clone, with some whole-bunch fermentation for a slower and more structured process. Zingy plum, blueberry, and boysenberry; the fruit here is decidedly well-muscled. Soft but ripe tannin emerges on a long, somewhat frothy finish. This is still coming together, but the components are all there.

Though I'm not completely enamored of everything here, the two pinots (gris and noir) and the chardonnay are undeniably striking, with the latter absolutely deserving of the worldwide praise it receives. There seems to be no letup in the quality and intensity of the wines under Mulholland's leadership, which is now fully established, and it will be interesting to taste her pinot noir against McKenna's when the latter's vines have had a chance to mature.

[Ata Rangi]

Right or Rangi
Ata boy

"Where you headed next?" Edward asks.

"Ata Rangi, I think. I wasn't able to set up an appointment there, so we're just going to taste."

"Mind if we join you?"

Well, of course not, and within short minutes we're in Ata Rangi's subdued and somewhat dark tasting room. Edward attempts to engage in some shop talk with the woman at the tasting room, but she's having none of it…and she doesn't seem particularly thrilled to see me, either. It must be said that this is one of the most diffident receptions we've had in New Zealand, and it's a little surprising. Shrugging, we just plow through the available wines, though Theresa is miffed enough that she insists on limiting our purchases.

Ata Rangi 2002 "Summer Rosé" (Martinborough) - An odd blend of pinot noir and cabernet sauvignon. Herbal, slight sweet strawberry and raspberry with a sticky finish. I have to say that cabernet adds nothing to this blend, and I'm not convinced it's ideally suited for rosé production in the first place.

Ata Rangi 2002 Pinot Gris Lismore (Martinborough) - Shy nose, which leaves one unprepared for the lush, frothy pearness of the palate. There's big grapefruit, too, and a long, slightly candied finish. Better than it sounds.

Ata Rangi 2001 Chardonnay Craighall (Martinborough) - Craighall is a vineyard of some note in these parts, and this wine lives up to the reputation. Fat orange coupled with mushroom and earth in a sort of ultra-ripe Burgundian fashion, made up with lots of clove, nutmeg, and cinnamon. The core of the wine, however, is that pure red fruit (coming through on the finish) one can sometimes get in the best sauvignon blanc, chardonnay, and riesling, and one has a long time to enjoy this characteristic as the finish is breathtakingly persistent. It's interesting to compare this with the chardonnays at Kumeu River and Fromm, for which I expressed similar enthusiasm; this is more obviously ripe and fat, a Corton-Charlemagne to their more restrained Chassagne fruit (no one is really aping Puligny), and yet it's closer to California than Burgundy in style. Maybe what's really going on is that it is the perfect middle ground between the two styles: the lush sun-filled fruit of California with the complexity and phenolic ripeness of Burgundy, supported but not overwhelmed by wood. In any case, the best New Zealand chardonnays are a revelation for this generally chardonnay-hating wine drinker, and I can only hope that the tantric lures of sugar and wood won't destroy these wines in the future.

Ata Rangi 2002 Wairarapa Pinot Noir "Young Vines" (Martinborough) - Sweet red cherry, strawberry, and light, summery herbs. Insignificant and underripe. They could, and should, do much better here.

Ata Rangi 2001 Pinot Noir (Martinborough) - Strawberry fruit glazing a dense, meaty, almost syrah-like package. I don't metaphorize for mere effect; there's smoked black pepper and intense, leathery tannin here. Coupled with an aged Ata Rangi tasted in Auckland, I am both baffled and tickled by this wine's resemblance to something from the Northern Rhône, and wish I knew the explanation for it. It is certainly unlike any Martinborough pinot I've ever tasted, except for other vintages of the Ata Rangi. In any case, it's most delicious, though I don't know that it's particularly typical of either the variety or the region.

Ata Rangi 2001 "Célèbre" (Martinborough) - A blend of 40% cabernet sauvignon, 40% syrah, and 20% merlot, spending 20 months in wood. Though it sounds distasteful, it's not meant to be: smoked beef liqueur. That's what this tastes like. Smoked beef liqueur. Whatever smoky/leathery qualities they get in their pinot are tripled in their syrah, and along with some mint and spicy vanilla, that (not at all unpleasant) hickory-smoked meat quality is available in spades here. The finish is more smoke, along with charred beef (as if fresh from a lump charcoal fire)…long, complex, and exclamation-inducing. A very, very striking wine. I love it, but I can definitely see how others might hate it.

Particularly vegetarians.