Wino sapien

Connective tissue

2026-06-07T15:08:53.996+08:00

Senate bean soup.

Being an antipodean, I had no idea such a soup existed, though the idea of pork and beans has frequently punctuated my life. After reading the recipe and the story behind it, in the NY Times, I felt a call to action. The whisper of several powerful forces. . . Winter, pork, memory, simplicity. . .

I used my mum’s old slow cooker. An old Tiger brand thermal cooker from the 1990’s. A pot within an insulated pot. . . I used the inner chamber to heat and cook all the ingredients (400g dried navy beans, 3 carrots, 2 potatoes, 2 ham hocks, a onion, five garlic, half a tablespoon of paprika, a large pinch thyme, pepper, salt, a knob of butter and 2L of water) and then left it overnight. After an 8 hour sleep the soup was still steaming and 65 degrees C. At this point mash the potatoes and a small portion of beans, stir into the soup; break up the pork meat and remove the bones and skin. The soup will gleam with goodness and connective collagen. . .

As I pulled the meat from the bones and rubbed the softened ligaments and tendons into the soup, I thought about glue and connective tissue. . . The interstitial layer. . . That mysterious and ignored gap or space between the named and solid organs and muscles. The solid, graspable, dissectible parts have all been labelled and named, and yet nothing works without the interstitium. We only think about the spaces in between when they are dysfunctional, burdened with too much fat, fluid or fibrosis.

Our days are mostly interstitial. Filled with spaces between meals and work and named activities. It is a place of contemplation, for refining ideas and daydreaming about the connections between bean soup collagen and time. Sadly much our interstitial time is being filled with screens and notifications. Will this encroachment create its own form of pathology?

It would be more tenuous to say that wine has connective tissue. . . and yet, isn’t this what we look for? Wines with flow and pace, ease, something that is playful and supple and long, complex and yet jointed and graceful. Perhaps I’m conflating the adjectives and connective tissue of a tasting note with the qualities of a wine, but more and more this is what I’m seeking. The in between. The gaps. I want more than meat and bones, I want a drink that has spaces for unforced contemplation.

2024 Elanto Balnarring Chardonnay. Peach and marzipan, a flinty nose mixed with pollen and a freshly washed woollen jumper. There’s a suggestion of bristle, but mostly this is rounded, hefty. It feels a little too stuffed and heavy. Perhaps it’s the oak, maybe it’s the taster. . .

2024 Elanto Balnarring Pinot noir. Mornington Peninsula. I can see the charm, but I wanted something softer and more perfumed. Something loose and ethereal, a wimpy wine? This is suave and unified, stylish but again hefty; assertiveness with a metal edge.

A lamb curry with Shanxi pulled noodles

2026-05-21T20:42:00.001+08:00

The morning after picture. . . A curry with a Chinese accent. . . As I get old and grey I keep returning to people and food memories from long ago. Of late, my mum’s lamb curry with its thin sauce, spiked with Madras curry powder. Mild, comforting and much missed. She only used 9 ingredients (including two spice blends - Garam Marsala and Madras) and gave minimal instructions

I was leafing through Jon Kung’s book - Kung Food - recipes from a third-culture Chinese kitchen. There’s a recipe for goat curry and lo mein. He lists over 30 ingredients (if you include the ones he repeats). . . After making an abridged (cutting 12 ingredients, much of suggesting prep time and several steps) and adulterated (adding 2 and using Shanxi noodles instead) version, I’m still struck by how much this reminds me of the lamb curry of my childhood.

It’s mostly the turmeric and coriander I think, plus the mildness and the slight graininess of the sauce from the spice. The Shanxi noodles are a plus - chewy and stretchy. . .

Start with a butterflied leg of lamb (1.2kg), trim the excess fat and sinew and then dice into 1 inch chunks. To this add the marinade ingredients - 2 tsp of Black Chinese vinegar; 2 tsp of light soy sauce; 1 tbsp turmeric; 1-1.5 tsp ground cumin; 1 tsp ground coriander; 1 tsp allspice; 1/2 tsp ground fennel; 1 tsp black pepper - ground; 2 tsp garlic powder; 1/4 tsp ground ginger powder; 2 small shallots - finely diced; 1 tsp salt; 1 tsp Sambal belachan (I had left over in fridge, a diced chilli would suffice); 1 tbsp olive oil; 1 tsp dried thyme leaves. Mix well and set aside. I left mine only for 15 minutes. Fry the lamb in batches, this has the effect of cooking the spice and browning the meat. I used a non stick pan, before transferring the meat to a Dutch oven. Once all the meat is done and in the larger pot - cover with chicken stock (I used about 1L) and cook on the stove, partially covered, at low heat, with a heat diffuser to prevent bits sticking to the base. 40 minutes before serving (and after about 2 hours of simmering) add 3-4 roughly chopped carrots and 4-5 medium potatoes that have been quartered. Thicken the sauce with a cornstarch slurry (1-2 tbsp of cornstarch and the same of water). Just before serving stir in 2 finely diced spring onions and some fresh coriander leaves. Cook the store bought noodles as instructed, I used about 400g of Havista Shanxi Pull noodles (for 4 people). Toss the noodles though the curry and serve.

May 2026

2026-05-11T21:54:00.000+08:00

A trio of obsessions to help me pass the time. . .

Food.
I’ve been mildly obsessed with home made pork buns. . . The recipe can be found here. The pictured image is attempt 2 of 3, and they were structurally deficient (dough was sloppy and over moist) with several falling apart when cooked. Still they are rewarding and evoke enough memory and joy for me to persist with my clumsy efforts.

Words.

Even clumsier, is my notebook (in the background) full of poorly composed Chinese characters. I still can’t get my stroke order correct, but as poor as my writing is, it is far more intelligible than my attempts to speak. . . I’ve been using the online resources to sleuth the origin and explanation behind each character. So many Easter eggs. . . It reminds me of my primary school self thumbing through a mini Oxford dictionary, trying to memorise insulting or unusual words. . .

Wine. A pair of wine list bottles.

Lyons Will Estate Pinot noir 2023. Macedon, Victoria. 12.6%. Something new and unexpectedly fine. Deeper and bigger than the stated numbers, a super nose - smoulder, cherry and bramble. I’m undecided if I can smell stems. . . it is most likely the auto suggestion of the back label, which mentions 10% whole bunches. Medium weight, lush, long and pretty. It seems firmer and sterner and more edgy than a Bindi, who have become my Macedon benchmark.

Savaterre Chardonnay 2023. Beechworth, Victoria. 13.5%. It’s been a while, but this seems in keeping with my last encounter some 15 years ago. A flinty, sulphurous nose. Striking. Lovely weight and body, seems leaner and lighter than its famous neighbour, Giaconda.

Singapore

2026-03-06T08:17:00.004+08:00

A fallen cannonball anemone, a single petal remaining, but heavy with scent and memory. On my infrequent visits to Singapore, I always make a beeline to the Botanic gardens, with its photogenic dragonflies and this curious tree.

Faced with the traveller's dilemma. What to see and do? What to drink and taste when there is so little time. . .

Should you narrow or widen the aperture? Deep but limited, or shallow and cursory?

Around and around in circles. . . Sleeping close to the Singapore river, every morning a slow pre sunrise run along the waters edge. Each day I’d trace the same path, the only variance my starting direction. . . I was surprised by the number of chickens strutting around unencumbered. I discovered retrospectively that they were the prototypal wild jungle fowl, unintentionally reintroduced, slimmed down, muscular and with beautiful tail feathers.

First the food arrives and then the hunger. . . I ate as much buah keluak as I possible. One old school home cooked version of ayam buah keluak, and then a trio of modern dishes at Candlenut. Fried rice with the black nut; a soft and warming (mole like) Iberico pork jowl stew and finally a playful rich ice-cream. Each showing a different face of the nut. Black olive tapenade and bitterness; umami and fat and finally; dark chocolate. (After returning home, every meal I've eaten seems bland and dull in comparison).

For the first time I ate a winged bean (taste unremarkable and green bean like) and the super sour bilimbi - cooked in a prawn curry and then raw off the tree. Laden with oxalates, eat too much and you can (apparently) get a kidney stone or acute renal failure. . .

As to wine, a singular bottle of the 2021 Courtault Michelet Valmur Grand Cru Chablis. 12.5%. Diam. An amazing wine, one that would easily win a place in my desert island cellar. A GC Chablis without a weight problem, the oak subsumed, the acids bracing. A++.

Qi

2026-01-13T15:28:00.002+08:00

I’ve been practicing Hanzi, timidly, trying to memorise all those odd looking squiggles and lines, consistently messing up the stroke order and direction. It is curiously satisfying. Trying to understand what each character represents and how it has changed over time. Each character pregnant with meta data.

Today I learnt the character for Qi. 气. On 3000 year old oracle bones it is represented by three horizontal lines, representing the three treasures. Essence, energy and body and mind. Three lines to capture the intangible. . .

You could characterise a wine in these terms. . . Essence being what is imparted by the terroir and season and the hand of the maker. Qi is more about what is in the glass, is the wine alive, is there a spark of energy or is it fading and quiet?

Qi is often equated to the life force, or vitality, or breath. It’s an elusive concept for the Western mind, which thinks of energy in terms of mitochondria and sleep, glucose and caffeine, switches and mechanisms. . . and yet, if you consider the hard to define and imprecise idea of Qi it is easy to notice when it present or diminished.

These two recent wines are full of Qi and essence. . .

Castle Rock Estate A&W Riesling 2023. Porongorup. 12%, bone dry. Emphatic and bustling with energy, one of the best rizzas I’ve tried in recent times. Terrific personality and spark. A vinous lip, sip, suck. . . Salty, zesty and crunchy. Terpenes ++ mostly florals and wax, lots of lean vigour in the mouth, excellent length. A+

Swinney Farvie Syrah 2023. Iron fist, cool and clenched, no glove! A black wine, meat and earth, clean leather. Savoury. Quite inky, but suave. Super tannins - grippy and firm. Formidable. This is the third treasure of the Farvie family, if I had to pick a favourite it would be the Grenache. . .

December notes

2025-12-27T23:25:00.001+08:00

A trio of Chardonnay to open.

2017 Flame Tree SRS Chardonnay. Mature and golden. Pineapple crunch, medium, starting to unknot.

2020 Vasse Felix Heytsbury. Tighter and more complex. Longer and quieter (and colder) initially. Essence like. Restraint and serious poise. Excellent.

2018 Leeuwin Art Series Chardonnay. 13.5%. Viscous and thick, essence like and powerful. Showy and bold. The nose is expressive, all peach and blossom. Even on day two it’s pretty and still well shaped. By a small fraction, I preferred the Heytsbury.

A Pinot.

Oakridge Aqueduct Block Henk Vineyard Pinot noir 2023. Yarra Valley. Medium red, bright and primary. Cherry and spice, relatively simple and direct, heavy. My rusty palate incorrectly called this a Tasmanian.

For the bird fanciers.

Chateau Lafite Rothschild 2009. 13.5%. Pauillac. A suitcase wine, and the fanciest red bottle of the season. Tasted blind the early money consensus call proved mostly correct. Surely a Left bank and at least a Second. . . But how to reconcile the weight and power. . . Deep and dense, the colour still youthful - the rim deep red. Very bold, a warm year nose and body; full, expressive and expensive. . . Pencil and cedar; dried herbs, dust, a trace of camphor. A next level Claret, unified and complex, the palate powerful and the tannins impressive. Spiced, silty and firm. In development, I’d say this is still the first quarter. . . Rated - Phwoah!

Chateau d’Yquem 1996. A burnished half bottle from the cellar, each drop demanding (my) attention. I keep sniffing my long empty glass and feel like a bee. In scent, the empty vessel is all wax and honey, marmalade and sunshine. In contrast the full glass has more lanolin and shrooms. . . Saffron and marzipan on the tongue, a sting of acid and exquisite intensity and concentration. Opened on Christmas Day - it was not a crowd pleaser. . . The scent and flavours were not particularly accessible and I was conflicted about selling its virtues or hoarding the remains. . .

November 2025

2025-11-26T22:18:00.000+08:00

Bindi Quartz 2024. Peaches and sunshine. Marzipan and almond meal, pollen and a thread of cordite. Clean and pulsing with energy. Fleshy and bold in the mouth; generous, with baking spices and warmth. V. Good, and yet I hesitate to post a tasting note. . . the longer the gaps, the more my self doubt. . . I open a second and then a third bottle to triple check. . . and I come to a similar conclusion each time, it’s an excellent Chardonnay, and yet my words seem incomplete. The oak treatment is subtle - lending a background richness and understated polish; the acids wonderful; lots of layers and finesse; restraint and beauty.

In between the three Bindi I sample a few glasses of 2016 Cullen ‘Kevin John’ Chardonnay. It’s much more mature (obviously), golden and nutty, laden with figs and spice. Rounded and cuddly, the tension replaced with softness. Good - Very.

A further counterpoint is the 2018 Frankland Isolation Ridge Riesling. Sharp and bright, but starting to turn. Both sides of the coin are on display. Floral powder and a trace of burnish and kero. It’s still mostly green youth, but the first and early signs of development are starting to show. Excellent.

Image: Bluff knoll, looking East on a misty morning towards Ellen peak (1034m) and Pyungoorup peak (1053m)

Reed ‘Lessons’ Semillon 2023

2025-06-10T16:45:00.003+08:00

A half time image of my Coq au semillion. . . I keep returning to old recipes and making adjustments based on necessity (what’s in the fridge / pantry) and experience. In this case, semillion instead riesling; a teaspoon of sambal belacan for a homeopathic hint of heat; a handful of dried (and rehydrated) chanterelles in addition to a small bag of fresh button mushrooms; and much more homemade tomato paste for depth and warmth (a 400g tin of diced tomatoes, simmered with 4 cloves of garlic for 15 minutes before blending).

I used the finished stew as a base for a rich chicken noodle soup. I’ve developed an obsession with Shanxi pulled noodles (the store bought ones by Havista, I have no inclination to make my own). They are impressive - 3cm wide and extra long, like a super chewy pappardelle.

Reed ‘Lessons’ Semillon 2023. Spring Creek, Torquay, Victoria. 12%. An ectopic, but very interesting semillon. Barrel fermented in a blend of old and new oak. It’s pale, but with more gold than expected; straight from the fridge it’s floral and waxy. Acacia. With warmth much more green bean, grass and herbs. Light but grippy with a saline, flor, fino sherry edge. Bottle pictured top right.

Lo Hon Chai

2025-05-20T20:11:00.010+08:00

I’ve been doing a lot of reading and thinking, interspersed with conversations with Chat GPT. What else would you call it. . . I ask questions, the AI responds, I ask follow up questions, it’s a deeper and more intimate dialogue than I would have with most people. It’s tangential and at times scatalogical.

I ask about Lo Hon Chai, Buddha’s delight, and it makes suggestions. It’s a Lunar new year dish, signifying purity or cleansing, designed to nourish without inflaming desires. . . I look at the ingredients and wonder about the flavours, it seems very bland - but it works - there’s a poise and gentle balance . . .

Lo Hon means Arhat, an adept who has obtained Nirvana. . . I always thought the original number was 4, but the Chinese inflated it to 10, then 16 and finally 18. . . .

A pair of recent books both containing the word Golden in their title. The Golden Road - by William Dalrymple and The Golden Wok - by Diana Chan. From the first I learn about the Indosphere and how like the Monsoonal winds, ideas and people fan out from India before returning with different hues. One of the core themes of the book is the spread and transformation of Buddhism. From the Golden Wok - I feel inspired to cook something from my childhood. Lo Hon Chai. As an adult, I think I finally understand its charms.

In the dish, a summary of said transformation. As an on and off again meditator, I know about vipassana, or insight meditation. It’s basic and sparse. Old school (V close to the original instructions). Sit and breath and watch your thoughts rise and fall, and supposedly from this you obtain an insight into existence. Impermanent, imperfect and selfless. This rather sparse interpretation of the Dharma obviously was unappealing to the 6th century Chinese. In their hands a much more intricate and magical set of ideas emerged. Lo Hon Chai, which possible arose in the Tang dynasty, seems entirely apt in this context. . . An array of wonderful ingredients, each with its own complex backstory.

You can find the recipe for it here. Although in the picture, there is a mystery ingredient that I’ve not been able to identify. There are fine golden brown strands ? Some other form of fungus ? A cordyceps.

She suggests in her book, 15 minutes for prep and 20 minutes for cooking. The cooking time seems correct, but for most people with even an adventurous pantry, a visit to a specialty grocer is required and should be factored it. Being a virgin with regards to several of the ingredients, I spent several days looking for the lily flowers and the fermented bean curd.

For my own future reference. I used 8 medium shiitake - about 25g; 15g of wood fungus - I’d suggest the all black version, avoid the brown furry one; I used 60g of mung bean vermicelli and I think this was not enough; I used about 300g of wombok, this was fine; I used a purple carrot - this was a mistake - too many darkly coloured veg; I used 120g of red fermented bean curd; skip the sugar; and finally the soaking liquid - I amped up the flavour by adding a few tablespoons of taucu and then part cooking the carrot (1min, to soften slightly) and the shiitake (5min).

Regarding the cooking. I sequenced things differently from the recipe. For me - 4 cooking steps. First garlic and the mashed up fermented bean curd; then add all the fungus and the lily flowers, cover and stir occasionally for 5 minutes; then the cabbage, bamboo, carrots, baby corn, vermicelli - again cover and cook, this time for 2-3 minutes; finally add the curd skins that have been pre fried.

Proof of Vinous activity. . .

Best Pinot noir of the year, the 2022 Pooley Jack Denis. Super nose, stems and roses, cherry liqueur. A true peacocks tail. . . If I had money I’d buy more. After this I was even more curious about the 2022 Margaret Pooley Riesling. White flowers, wax and citrusy. A playful trace of sweetness. Good but not great like the JD.

Another delicious and worthy (and more accessible and affordable) Pinot was the Gentlefolk Monomeith - 2023. Adelaide Hills. Lots of cherry, lovely nose, quite a different shape - still terrific. More rounded and lush.

Also tried - a 2011 Lakes Folly (Cab / Shiraz and more). Black currant, menthol and spice; meat and leather. Slightly hollow and hourglass in shape.

A pair of blind tasting misses. . . 2018 John Kosovich Chenin (bottle aged reserve release). Almond meal nose, lots of texture and terrific acid. 2012 Shaw + Smith Shiraz. With blinkers on - this smelt like a Victorian Cabernet. . . Leafy and cool, blackcurrant (surely, in retrospect perhaps more mulberry). Spiced. V good.

Finally, as a placeholder, the 2021 LEAS Chardonnay. V. Good, unsurprisingly so. Plush, curved, full.

Image: The initiated will notice the absence of the fried bean curd skins, which I almost forgot to add. These were added post photo and are absolutely essential. . .

A Wet January

2025-02-04T22:24:00.002+08:00

A solid month of drinking followed by the sketchy post mortem of the best bottles. I’ve relied on my hand written notes, which grow shorter and messier each year.

Chardonnay. From fat to thin. . . Martinborough Vineyard Home Block Chardonnay 2017. 1/3 to 1/2 butterball. Similar in old school emphasis is the Sianpius Tamar Valley 2015. Another partial butterball, but also a passing and unexpected hint of celery. Forest Hill Block 8 Chardonnay 2016. Cream, not butter, lovely almond meal texture. Minimal smoulder. Joan Chardonnay 2021. Bottle pictured above. Adelaide Hills. A mix of 2 clones (one fat - I10V1 and one fit - 96). Peach and flesh, a balance of tightness and generosity. Nectar like. Yabby Lake Chardonnay 2017. A good nose, stone fruit and almond meal. The most notable thing is the palate profile. A juxtaposition of cream and stone fruit acids. Finally - the Tyrrell’s Vat 47 2022. Lean and spare, flint and struck match nose. A very tight but fruit (citrus and pineapple more than peach) driven palate.

A trio of cabernet. Seppelt Dorrien Barossa 1996. Mature, but still expressive. Leafy and tobacco scented, but also raisins and prunes making it amarone like. Waxy and rich, softened. Leeuwin Art Series 2012. An old school claret. Black. Violets, cool and tight. Super. In contrast - the Forest Hill Block 5 2014. Great Southern, WA (a 4 hour South East drive from Leeuwin). Lighter framed and more nimble than the usual Margaret River / Coonawarra duopoly wine. Poised with bright blackcurrant but nothing overdone or excessive. Compared to the Leeuwin this seems smaller and less ripped.

Côte-Rôtie and Côte-Rôtie inspired. Clonakilla 09 Shiraz Viognier. Spice and for a moment mercaptan. White pepper. Deep and complex. Malt and soy, a Balsamic richness. Mocha intensity. Ferruginous. V.v good. The 2021 Clonakilla SV. Also notable and super. . . It’s been a few years since I've had a really young Clonakilla, but even with the imperfections of memory, this seems different in scent. Less floral, but much more white pepper. Beautiful, but more rugged than I recall. Lush, excellent texture and spicy length. Rene Rostaing Côte-Rôtie Côte Blonde 2007. The month’s most singular wine. . . Very high fill, 1mm from the cork. Mature colour, on the turn from red to brown. Leafy, sturdy, sharp. Closed to start. A hint of animal. . . Becomes more stem scented in time. Earthy, sappy. Seems to get cleaner as the night passes. Manly, suave. Super tannins, white pepper, sappy, firm. Dry, no sweetness. Meaty, parchment like tannins. How do you describe whole bunch tannins??? Amazing.

Pinot. Joshua Cooper Doug’s vineyard Romsey 2015. Pretty nose, from the colour and mouth feel more than the nose I would infer stems and whole bunches. Lithe, v fine tannins. Then a pair of wines from Jim Chatto, tasted concurrently and with blinkers. Chatto Savigny-Lès-Beauregard 1er cru. Aux Vergelesses 2019 the more subdued nose, a trace of reduction perhaps. Seems to be stem free, inky, lush. Overshadowed by the Tassie wine. . . on the night code named omega. . . Chatto Killara Farm 2022. The more expressive, crowd pleasing, energetic wine. Spice and stems, sappy, frontal.

Nebbiolo. New and old. Luke Lambert Yarra Valley Nebbiolo 2021. Bright, fragrant. Floral - rose petals. Primary. Quite mouth filling and round in the mouth. Prunotto Barolo 2000. The darker wine. V/a. Tar and ink. Sl stern and the more formidable. The harder (for some) to love wine. Meaty, prune and spice. Savoury.

A right bank post script. 10th February. Ch Canon 2004. Deep and expressive, opens with dark fruit and tobacco before becoming more tertiary with spice and leather. Quite inky with mocha like tannins, mature and rewarding. With blinkers it reminds me of an older Bin 389. . . The ginger spice and leather, the warmth and heft. Previously.

Image: nano block axolotl.

December bottles

2024-12-28T23:44:00.004+08:00

Dhillon Riesling 2024. A Bindi wine using non estate Macedon fruit from the Glenhope vineyard. The back label mentions - interesting grapes from interesting vineyards for, hopefully, interesting people. . . Wild yeast, old barrels, time of lees. A quieter than expected nose, pear as much as citrus, green bean. Different from the usual Oz Riesling - as well as the feel of pebbles and the taste of apricots - there’s more flesh and creaminess in the mouth. The Clare Valley 2021 Jim Barry ‘The Florita’ is much more typical - bath salts, a puff of lime; bone dry, phenolic ++, a slightly salty edge.

Kumeu River Mate’s Vineyard Chardonnay 2022. 13%. Quite above and apart from most. A complex and compelling nose - pear and citrus, white florals, a hint of spice (ginger and soft oak), subtle layers. . . Rich and refined and long in the mouth - it’s tight, intense, pulsing with phenolic grip and citrus pith. . . I wrote - cf orange wine, but clean. . . Which is to say - the tannins are like a skin contact wine, but it has the purity of snow. . . As good, but different is the Elanto Vineyard Balnarring Chardonnay 2023. 13.5%. Mornington. Close planted Chardonnay. A really impressive wine, young fruit, new winery, well known winemaker (Sandro Mosele). A struck match nose, smouldering. Stones > fruit (? Pineapple). Fleshy and zippy. A stylish, high energy, high amplitude wine. Lovely flesh and weight in the mouth. Fatty and thick (in a good way). Super acids and length.

Bindi Block 8 Pinot noir 2021. 13%. An 8 on the front label and a cluster of 8s on the back. . . 1.888 acres; 8888 wines. . . The vine density is mostly 11300 per hectare, though in parts it is 22600. . . A super wine. To my un-blinded palate this seems distinctly Bindi like. . . It tastes suave. . . Which is to say, I can’t put words to the taste. . . ? a creamed cherry. . . ? an adults version of red creaming soda. . . Distinct and pure, pretty and complex nose, savoury and dark. V. bright and edgy in the mouth. Another close planted Pinot - The 2017 Bass Phillip 17K. 14.6% (!). Pro cork. Slightly paler than expected, mature nose - plum / haw flakes, but also something a bit wild and funky. Glue, leather, meat, geosmin. It opens tart and fast but it gets more diffuse and unfocused with time. For comparison - 2021 Domaine Bachelet Gevrey-Chambertin. 12.5% (seems bigger). Leafy and autumnal. . . But curiously also something unexpected and foxy. A sweet core, quite round and tadpole like. ? More Pinot than Burgundy.

2001 Brokenwood Graveyard Shiraz. V. Mature and not long to go now. . . Like a liquid ham. . . V. savoury and in the mouth quite round and sweet. At the complete opposite end of development was the highly rated 2022 Swinney ‘Farvie’ Mourvedre. Deep and pure. Blackberry and woody herbs on the nose. Tart, tannic and large; enveloping, bold and lush. Blocky at the moment, presumably patience will be rewarded.

Image: Christmas turkey cooking stats. . . The first time I’ve managed not to ruinously overcook the big bird - thanks to my latest kitchen gadget - a bluetooth meat thermometer (Meater Pro). FYI - bird dry brined 72 hours before, then rubbed in spice 24 hours before. Re cooking temp - 30m at 220C and then rest of the cook at 165C. I removed the bird just before it reached the desired internal temp of 73C but while resting it kept cooking and peaking, reaching 75.8C

On vinegar

2024-12-28T21:48:00.002+08:00

Almost 20 years of tinkering with my home based vinegar solera. . . The oldest bottle - 4th from the left - the green glassed Stella Bella, has taken a turn, and gone from being sharp and clean to rusty and dull. . . Not bad given it was originally inoculated in January 2005.

I spent a few hours sorting through my bottles - decanting some for the pantry, adding left over natural wine where needed and disposing of the dud and tainted batches. I ended up disposing about 20 bottles (a half of my solera). . . The biggest cull I can recall. . .

The happy vinegar bottles (average age 10 years) had clear, orange tinted contents, there was almost no need to smell and taste the liquid to confirm their health. In contrast - the tainted bottles, or the ones which never got started remained deeper in colour or cloudy in some cases. A spectrum of nutty and munted, all the way to fetid.

Learnings:

1. Red wine vinegars are much easier to make.

2. Start with a natural wine with minimal additions. If you need a starter (acetobacter) use a lo fi vinegar.

3. Nothing lasts forever, even the happy (18-19 year old) bottles will eventually turn.

Distantly related post.

Tasting notes

2024-12-03T20:03:00.004+08:00

A fortnight of travel related wine consumption. . . I’ve been like this cliff top echidna, enjoying the sights while using my nose to look for treasure. . .

Riesling. Light and bright.

Parish Vineyard Riesling 2023 (Coal River, Tasmania) - v. sharp wine, with a slightly unexpected fruit profile - tangarine and pink grapefruit in the mouth. Grippy and rewarding. The Kühling-Gillot Qvinterra Troken 2023 (Mosel) also excellent. Tight and sappy, all the usual suspects - slate and mineral in the mouth, a terpene nose, hardness with a trace of sweetness in the mouth.

A pair of complex (and costly) chardonnay.

As much as I love Chardonnay, budgetary constraints and poor access, have lead to a years (5) long hiatus between sips of Giaconda. Still - the Giaconda Chardonnay 2016 feels like an old friend. Familiar, idiosyncratic, seemingly unchanged. Terrific nose - smouldering and complex, at times a hint of toffee. Amazing acid structure and texture. Long +++. Under Coravin, I could detect a faint trace of oxidation which seemed to add to the charm (? bottle age ?? coravin effect ??? makers hand). On the rare occasions that I’ve tried a Giaconda Chardonnay, I’ve tried to locate it relative to its peers. Vs Leeuwin Art series, vs 1 er Cru Montrachet. . . and so it seems natural to continue to juxtapose it, this time with the Jean-Claude Ramonet Bienvenues-Batard-Montrachet Grand Cru 2014. The Giaconda had some oxidation in the mouth, this on the nose, it’s minimal, a bruised pear foot note. Mostly I recall how lush and chubby the wine was, powerful but unsurprising. Excellent, expected. . . safe.

Red Burgundy.

Jean Loron Borgougne ‘Montvallon’ 2020. Bold and full, with tasting blinkers on, I would have called this a Central Otago. There’s a hint of meat and leather to go with the leafiness; the fruit is at the raisin end of the spectrum.

Domaine Anne Gros Clos-Vougeots Grand Cru Le Grand Maupertui 2009. Anne and not AF Gros. I was expecting a different bottle, the AF, the one with blue cursive and the kind and knowing female head in the left corner. . . The wine is quite hard and stern, inky almost. . . serious. My unprepared mind was expecting something softer and more curved. This was chiselled and mineral. I've written granite in my tasting notes. Impressive, quite emphatic tannins. See here for the Gros family tree.

Wines of thirst.

Domaine Petit Perou Tu M’tiens au Jus 2023. V. V. Good. Raspberry and strawberry nose, enticing. A trace of mineral in the mouth, soft and warming. Macerated tannins.

Crawford River Cabernets 2021. Sauvignon and franc. A lithe and playful wine; leafy, with violets and black currants. V. Juicy, bright and approachable.

Recommended reading - One Thousand Vines by Pascaline Lepeltier. I’ve been reading small snippets at a time, it’s a beautiful book, dense with information and it comes at subject from so many curious directions - historical, philosophical, cultural, biological. It unlike any other book on wine I’ve encountered. A++

Recent meals

2024-11-30T00:48:00.003+08:00

A fortnight of wonderful food (and wine) in Melbourne and along the Great Ocean Road.

First up, a very old school Cantonese meal at Flower Drum. It's like a time capsule, suited middle aged waiters hover attentively, they remind me of long forgotten uncles. . . We open proceedings with a bowl of egg crusted deep fried fish skins and for a moment I feel like a child again, sitting in a noisy dai pai dong slurping fat rice noodles and fish cakes washed down with a tiny bottle of Kowloon dairy milk.

Embla was a trip favourite. The room has a terrific vibe, and after the formality of Flower Drum it was a delight to have unobtrusive wait staff. The food was comforting and delicious. Every plate a winner - the guilty bites of pressed chicken skin crisps with whipped anchovy and chicory; the soft creamy fried polenta cubes; the succulent poussin with its amazing guanciale and sage flavoured sauce that demands a side order of the thickly sliced house bread to mop up the juices. Rated - again and again and again.

Supernormal was voluminous. It's a huge space packed with chore jacketed staff and many many more hungry and thirsty patrons. Where Embla is intimate and buzzy at once, Supernormal is like a piazza on market day. . . and yet service is friendly, brisk and timely. The house favourites are very good. The brioche lobster rolls - soft on the outside, but crisp and toasty internally. The duck bao playfully theatric.

Lillian at the top of Collin street is like a den, full of strutting peacocks, of the rooms mentioned so far this the most glitzy, showy. . . The food is very classic and fine, but as a wino, I found it hard to focus on the white plates. . . The wine list is 100+ pages, all the good and the great are there. Two pages devoted to DRC (the 2009 DRC Romanée-Conti for $A63K), two to Leroy. . . but the startling and distracting thing for me (being the only drinker on the table) were the wines on offer by the glass (50, 75 or 150ml pours). Some gems included (for a price) a Giaconda Chardonnay, a Grand cru white burgundy, Emidio Pepe's Trebbiano d'Abruzzo; for the reds I spotted a Bass Phillip Premium, Mount Mary Quintet, Ch Montrose, a Grand cru red Burgundy (Anne Gros Clos-Vougeot), a Wendouree Malbec. When it came to the stickies with your pudding they had pours of Ch d'Yquem (60mls for $180). Wonderful (if you are inclined and liquid). . . After visiting I can now understand the power and purpose of coravin.

Perhaps the most interesting meal was at Askal on Exhibiton street. A very fine and sophisticated Filipino diner. Prior to ordering anything - lots of cross checking with Google to decipher the menu and much hand holding from the wait staff. . . We were not game to try the duck balut but from the ox tail kare-kare doughnut to the buko pandan coconut whip pandan parfait tapioca pudding and pinpig (easily the best dessert I’ve had all year) it was a meal of wtf wonder.

Honorable mentions. The Miznon stuffed pitas - soft yet chewy, impossible to eat without making a mess. Tiny cafe - Fiord, just off King Street with their salty zucchini pickle toasties, the perfect post run pick me up. Further afield - Lorne's Ipsos, a wonderful modern Greek diner with warm service an interesting wine list and wedges of grilled kefalograviera.

Image: Embla's sprouting broccoli and orecchiette.

Pasta with broccoli

2024-10-16T08:48:00.002+08:00

An almost forgotten family favourite. . . Though I have more time, I have less inclination to make my own orechiette, fortunately my local grocer has gone overboard by stocking four different examples. I picked the bronze extruded octagonal ears by Giuseppe (supposedly of the Dolomites).

I started with the breadcrumbs - half a loaf of sour dough, remove the thickest parts of the crust, break into crumbs (thermomix or similar device) drizzle with olive oil, season and toss in 4-5 peeled and crushed garlic cloves. Bake at 180 degrees C - turning and tossing so the crumbs get an even tan. Takes about 15-20 minutes. Once done - remove the garlic and set aside and cover once cool.

Concurrently - break up 1 medium head of broccoli. I prefer small 5-10mm fragments. Fiddly - but better aesthetically. Dice the stem and use that too. Set aside.

Make a parsley pesto - the gives the dish the luminous green tint and connects all the elements. Handful of parley; 1 garlic clove; pine nuts (approx 30-40g by eyeball); 30g Parmesan cheese; juice of half a lemon; 40mls olive oil; salt and pepper. Blend well.

Prep the final flavour component - finely chop 2 cloves of garlic; 20 black olives - remove seed and roughly chop (I used these); 6-8 anchovy fillets - chopped; add a pinch of chilli flakes or Aleppo pepper for warmth.

Cooking. Boil large pot of water, add salt. When boiling add the pasta. When the pasta is a few minutes from being ready (bite and taste as you go) add the broccoli. While this is happening - in a large pan - fry the garlic / olive / anchovy mix. When the anchovies have disintegrated - stir through the previously prepared and already crisp breadcrumbs. The aim is to warm the breadcrumbs and to flavour them with the anchovy/olive/garlic. When the pasta / broccoli is ready - retain half a cup of the cooking liquid. Strain / drain from the water. Return the pasta to the pot and add the reserved liquid. Toss with the parsley pesto. Plate out and top with breadcrumbs.

Shiraz, mostly

2024-09-24T08:42:00.000+08:00

Penfolds Koonunga Hill Seventy Six Cabernet Shiraz 2006. Opens hard and abrasive, but softens in time. Spiced Christmas pudding and shellac. Stylistically true to the house. I think this was the first release of the Seventy Six. I've written about it before. . . Then as now - I wonder - How finely/cynically can you segment the market when you ultimately offer only one sort of (red) wine - something dense, full, warm and old fashioned. . .

SC Pannell Adelaide Hills Syrah 2012. The 2013 edition went on to win the Jimmy Watson. This would be a tricky wine in a 100% blinded line up. It has a DMS / über black currant nose; thankfully I spotted the Burgundy bottle, bringing my formulation back to cool climate Shiraz. . . Full and plump, cherry ripe, with lovely fine inky tannins.

Wolf Blass Black Label 2002. Shiraz, Cabernet and Malbec. Barossa and Langhorne Creek.
From my cellar. Cork (50% stained). A whiff of glue and v/a to start, but then it's all lush oak (there's French and American, but it seems all American to me), plum and prune more than raisins, dark chocolate. Lots of layers and a slightly contrived complexity. Sweet and approachable in the mouth, huge (15%) but nimble. Endearing.

Chateau Langoa Barton 2001

2024-09-01T20:03:00.001+08:00

Is this the vinous equivalent of that old, comfortable, slightly moth eaten woollen cardigan at the back of your closet?

An evocative nose - but odd (compared to what I’ve been drinking recently, which is not claret) - camphor and leather to open, a curious fusty perfume, it's only later that I find any fruit - more plum than black currant. Very savoury, long and fine tannins, leafy, mature, dense, meaty and inky. Quite suave. Riddled with brettanomyces, but likeable.

On blind tasting - I've been reading Andy Clark's book - 'The Experience Machine', it's about the idea that our brains operate as predictive machines. Our expectations (coloured by our conditioning) determine how we interpret sensory signals. . . For instance - I sniff at a blinded white wine - a hint of grass and green, it's very sharp in the mouth, medium bodied. . . I think, automatically and lazily - semillon. . . which makes me cautiously reflect every time I think semillon it ends up being a riesling. . . and so I find additional cues which make me call the wine a 2013 Steingarten Riesling, when in point of fact it is a very tight and crisp 2020 Flame Tree SRS Chardonnay. . . I re sniff and suddenly there's a milky, creamy butterscotch edge and all the markers of a Margaret river chardonnay. . . Later - my tasting companion sniff and sips at my blinded bottle - the middle aged claret (01 Ch Langoa Barton). His expectations are for something closer to home - Australia, NZ perhaps. . . He wonders if it is a shiraz - but it's too dry (for an Aussie) and the tannins too complex. . . He settles on a fancy bottle from the Gimblett Gravels. . . and once again it seems so obvious after the bottle is revealed.

August 2024

2024-08-26T16:01:00.003+08:00

Grosset G110 Riesling 2022. Watervale, Clare Valley. 12.9%. Screw cap. Approx $A135. A super wine, though I’m not sure I’ll bite again. . . It’s very similar in character and quality to the cheaper Polish Hill (which is still around $A80). A single clone wine - the small berried Geisenheim 110. Very intense and pure; chalk and talc, bath salts and lime. Sharp, blade like acidity.

A trio of Pinot noir couplets. . .

Hochkirch Maximus Pinot noir 2021. Pretty nose, delicate fruit and florals with woodsmoke. Muscular tannins, expansively fleshy palate. Needs time. The Pyramid Valley North Caterbury Pinot noir 2020 was fine and softer in structure, with Lovely mid palate zip and spice.

The next two a contrast in tannins. The Castlerock Estate A&W 2022. Porongurup has more cedar and spice, it seems old school, Shiraz like in emphasis. . . The Bubb + Pooley 2022 Coal River finer and softer, but still with weight and depth. There’s more finesse, the tannins more fruit and whole bunch derived.

The last pair showing just as much divergence. A heavy hitting 2022 Felton Road Bannockburn. Central Otago. A quiet nose - with much time and agitation - tar and ink, raisins. In the mouth - it’s bold and tannic, very full, rich and ripe. It’s a Pinot but not as I know it. . . Conforming more to my expectations - the 2023 Lonely Shore from Manjimup. Sharper and juicier, the nose dark fruit and spice, the dimensions smaller but still bright and energetic.

The image above AI created - with the prompt - create an art work with Ludwig Wittgenstein’s Tractatus as inspiration.

2024-07-07T19:25:00.000+08:00

PLACE of CHANGING WINDS. Between two mountains. Pinot noir 2022. Macedon. 13.5%. Diam. New (to me) and intriguing, though pricey ($190 from Perth's noisiest enoteca - Besk). A clear and pretty nose, berries and petals. Shadow free. Pure. . . Biggish in the mouth, warm and effusive, an initial declaration of new oak which soon recedes. . . round and filling with a some mid palate sinew and grip.

A beautifully and serious bottle which has left me with an unusually large number of questions. . . The wonderful art work, like a medieval woodblock - by who? The name - place of changing winds? From the traditional place name - Warekilla. Between which two mountains? Macedon and Bullengarook. Who’s the wine maker? Were the any stems? I assume no. . . Who’s behind the winery? Robert Walters (who started Bibendum - the esteemed wine importer). How old are the vines? Planted 2012-2018. . . and the website. . .with its emphasis on place, vine density and the viticultural practices (especially the pruning). They mention a planting density of up to 33K vines per hectare! Compare this to DRC which averages 10K per hectare and their older neighbour Bindi whose Block 8 is planted at 11.3K - 22.6K per hectare.

Image: Gemini generated image with the prompt - vineyard between two mountains. . .

May 24

2024-05-21T11:29:00.000+08:00

A delicious pair of 2023 Yarra Valley wines from Tillie J. Both (Chardonnay and Pinot noir) are bristling and bursting with flavour and texture, but there is no flab or excess. The frames are tight and compact, lean and most importantly - supple. Precise, but no sharp edges. Pure and shadow free.

Also tried and also worthy of a line or two - the 2020 Mulline Sutherland Creek (Geelong - Moorabool Valley) Chardonnay. Crisp, peach, match stick, almond meal nose. Energetic. A bottle of 2016 Seppelt St Peters Shiraz . With the newer, much slicker label and packaging, though being an old fart, I miss and prefer the old mid 90's Great Western label. Dark and brooding, more or less instantly recognisable in a police line up. V. good.

Elsewhere - an updated attempt at Cassoulet.

Tasting notes - Feb 24.

2024-02-12T14:11:00.009+08:00

A clutch of blinded wines that recently made me pause, and an unrelated Tonkatsu picture from Tokyo in November. I had very low expectations for the meal, I'd just landed and the restaurant, name forgotten, was within a department store. . . How amazingly wrong I was. Next level crunch and meaty juiciness. Simple, but superb.

The wines.

J.B Becker Kabinett Trocken Riesling 2005. My last bottle. I've forgotten where I got this from, but I've been holding back on this, trying not to open it prematurely. I figure this, a dry German riesling, is a blind tasting ace, I just need to mask the green glass. . . Vinolok sealed. Clear and bright, it behaves like a 5-10 year old. A sulphurous nose - which I discern as a woolly jumper. Notable flesh and round weight, 11.5%, but it feels more substantial. Traminer like spice and grip. Wonderful.

Battles Riesling 2021. Great Southern. The bottle with the kookaburra on the label. A left field wine. Clearly a Riesling, but an odd and idiosyncratic one. Crisp but equally salty and savoury. This was tasted after a more textbook 2021 Frankland Estate Isolation Ridge Riesling which had more softeness and apparent sweetness, it also seemed truer to type and my pre conceived notions of place.

Domaine Simha Rao Chardonnay 2022. I still keep thinking of the first vintage of this that I tried - the 2015. Bottled lightening, elusive and so far unmatched by subsequent releases. . . This one is sappy and a little odd to start. Tart ++, but in time the positives prevail. Long and juciy. More time perhaps.

Cape Mentelle Chardonnay 2015. Tasted after the Simha. Golden and mature, bold, tanned, lush and full. Bitter butterscotch. Holding up.

Mayer Volcanic Upper Yarra Chardonnay 2022. Diam. 12.5%. Tasted a week after the above wines. The best Chardonnay of the month. . . Sulphurous nose, especially day 2. Very well poised - crunch and acidity, lovely almond meal texture and richness. An excellent wine.

Bindi Darshan Pinot noir 2019. Medium / pale. Lovely nose - maraschino cherry and for a moment strawberry. Super fine tannins. Playful, a little simple.

Quiet Mutiny Venus Rising Pinot noir 2019. Coal Vaslley. Tasmania. Dark and brooding. Violets, spice and cherries. Clean and pert day one, a little more funky as I pick apart of the dregs on day 2. Full and round. After some recent diagnostic wins, I blunder and call this a Yarra Cabernet! I blame the colour (deeper) and the initial note of violets and my Procrustean reasoning / confirmation bias.

A pair of exceptional 2021 Pinot noir. North and South; Beaune and Nuit; Light and shadow. A Coldstream Hills Block E (Deer farm vineyard, Yarra). Pale for a pinot, you could say the whole bunches are visible, but less obvious on the nose - which is beautiful - with boiled lollies, rose petal, Turkish delight and curiously - melon. Crisp and playful. Delicate and poised. The Pooley Butchers Hill is deeper, darker and more brooding. Smoke (figurative, not real) black cardamom and dark cherries. Fleshier and more weighty than the Block E, spice and grippy petals (the texture more than the scent of petals). A flip of the coin to determine the winner. . .

A few nights later I was sprung again - this time the Coldstream Hills Deer Farm Pinot noir - again from 2021 - but with fruit from blocks B,C and E (I think) and no mention of whole bunches on the back label. It’s darker and less ethereal than the fancy pants block E, more prune than cherry, more black cardamom than rose petal. Muddy tannins, fair, undistinguished.

Penfolds Grange 1996. Formidable and predictable, the cork crumbles (of course), there's an opening whiff of peppermint then camphor and cigar. A mature Aussie red. A Penfolds wine is my olfactory formulation. . . Super rich and ripe, sweet raisins in the mouth. This can only be a Grange. It's very long. I put my chips on 1996. (Before).

It’s been a wet February for me, I’m looking forward to a drier March. . .

February 2024

2024-02-06T14:51:00.004+08:00

The Eileen Hardy that I once knew (circa 1990s) was a multi regional blend - with fruit from four states (Yarra, Tasmania, Tumbarumba and the Adelaide Hills). This bottle is a little more geographically focused - with all the fruit from Tasmania - but in keeping with the blended roots, it features fruit from the Coal River, Derwent and the East Coast.

2021 Eileen Hardy Chardonnay. 13.5%. Very good. Worked and busy nose. Oak, spice, flint, match stick. Almond meal. Fruit ++ (pineapple and peach). Round and bold. Curved, fleshy, nice texture. Showy. A crowd pleaser. 17-17.5/20

2005 Domaine A Cabernet. 13%. My last and most rewarding bottle. When I tried this in 2011 the notable thing was the nose and the supple body. I unfairly thought it was simple and lacking shadow. . . It still has a wonderful nose - pure and bright blackcurrant, a hint of cigar and spice. . . The tannins are terrific, my drinking partner called them European. . . softened, long, savoury. A leather edge. 18/20.

2008 Chateau Montrose. I carried the cork home from the Hong Kong Country club where this bottle is on offer for $HK900, about $A175. A pretty good price, says the guest unaware of the steep six figure membership fees. . . When I last tasted this wine - I said it smelt of cassis and used dollar bills. . .

December 23. Tasting notes.

2023-12-26T14:29:00.002+08:00

2023 Grosset Polish Hill. Riesling, Clare, South Australia. Like kara-age and pistachio gelato, I feel compelled to return. . . I've been blogging about wine since 2006, if you search you'll find tasting note streaks for various well known wines. . . Bindi Quartz, the Cullen Diana Madeline nee Cabernet Merlot, the Clonakilla SV, the Art Series Chardonnay, the Bouchard Baby Jesus. . . and of course - the Grosset Polish Hill. The Grosset is the only one that still gives you change on $100 and it is the one that I find most rewarding to revisit. This one is pale and unresolved, it seems different from it's siblings. Tropical fruit to pair with the expected crunch and bright phenolics. Grippy and long, there's a knot of texture that will in time unwind.

1999 Yalumba The Signature. Cabernet Shiraz. A forgotten and neglected bottle, sub optimally cellared, but a revelation in the glass. The back label sells it short by suggesting drinking till 2011. . . Deep and mature, lovely. Earthy, smooth with a kick of mid palate ginger spice and warmth. Lush, sweet oak. Very fine.

2022 Chateau Katsunuma 'The Golden Hill' Koshu. Pictured on the left. An N of 1 wine. My first Koshu, a suitcase wine from Japan. Precise and light, playful, shadow free. . . I keep hunting for similarities to fit it into my narrow wine universe. . . It has a herbal, green bean, grassy edge - my tasting companion thought it might be a semillon / sauvignon blend. . .

2017 Domaine Henri Boillot Volnay 1er Cru - Les Caillerets. Full and heavier set than the stated 13%. A pencil shaving nose, wood spice more than fruit. Round, full, bold. Knowing the bearer of the wine, I called it a Burgundy and a Pommard. . . I was out by a village. . . but if the wine was bought along by someone else, I might just as well have called Central Otago. It has heft and smoulder. Firm, intense, concentrated. I was calling it plum and jam like, before settling more correctly on cherry liqueur.

2013 Emidio Pepe Montepulciano d'Abruzzo. Six years ago I had the pleasure of tasting the Trebbiano. Deep and dark, a leafy nose that gives way to something more woody and camphor like. Meaty and leathery in the mouth. Rustic. Super acids and edge. Long, expansive tannins. Lovely.

Postcard - Karaage

2023-12-19T10:48:00.001+08:00

A humble and incredibly delicious plate of fried chicken from the Kyoto Torisaki store near the Keihan Kiyomizu Gojo subway station. You can purchase a fried chicken 'mountain' set for about $A10. . . Though I'd recommend their trio of fried chicken set. . .

I have a mild obsession with kara-age. I've linked to some previous pictures of the stuff. . .

Postcard - Arashiyama Bamboo Grove - Kyoto

2023-12-18T10:30:00.003+08:00

The colour enhanced photos you see of the Kyoto bamboo groves are hauntingly beautiful and unpopulated. . . BT - before tourists, 2020 in the midst of COVID restrictions perhaps. . . When I visited in November 2023 there were hoards of phone wielding tourists.