Hunter Valley

Australia is a vast country, its wine regions stretching over 4,000km from Margaret River south of Perth in Western Australia to Hunter Valley north of Sydney in New South Wales. Those regions vary so much, in soils, in grape varieties grown, and, more than I realised, in climate. Despite those differences, there is a huge level of support for and interest in other regions, even when they're hundreds of kilometres apart.

The one exception to this comradeship is Hunter Valley. Two Australian girls we met in Argentina informed us the wine was terrible. When we told people in South Australia that our Australian journey would culminate in Hunter Valley, the reaction was an incredulous yet muted, "Oh." In Victoria the reaction was more impassioned: "You're saving the worst to last!"

At first I didn't understand their dislike, dismissing it as simple jealousy. Hunter Valley is near Sydney, and its wine industry revolves around Australia's biggest city which is so far away from Australia's other wine regions. So I decided to ignore all those reservations, not least because I wanted to taste and discover more about the unique wine of Hunter Valley: Semillon.

We drove eight hours from Rutherglen through endless nothingness, bypassing the capital Canberra and Sydney (which we returned to). I expected Hunter Valley to be like Napa Valley: close to a major city, beautiful, and full of decorous tasting rooms and expensive restaurants. Instead, it's rather ugly, a flat valley with a small, truncated mountain range to the west, and its tasting rooms looked like they hadn't been touched since the 1970s. There were few restaurants, the locals were unfriendly, and it baffled me why people from Sydney - residents and tourists alike - visit the region so much. In short, all those negative opinions others had voiced were right.

Its climate is hot, humid, and windy. Those winds aren't refreshing, but blow the heat and humidity into one's face. The cloud cover smothers the heat further. Hunter Valley really isn't a region made for wine production, yet wine has been made here for two hundred years. James Busby, one of the founding fathers of Australian wine, settled here in the 1820s and the region's proximity to Sydney has sustained its wine industry. I can't imagine a region I'd less want to make wine in.

the one pretty view in Hunter Valley

 

semillon

For all of Hunter Valley's unsuitability for growing grapes, it produces a unique style of wine. Hunter Valley Semillon is one of the world's most ageworthy white wines, and I wanted to learn more about what makes the wine so individual. The answer is a paradox: the high acid, low alcohol wines are a result of the warm climate. The grapes ripen quickly in the heat and are picked early (in part to avoid the heavy rain and hail that falls before the end of the growing season). In the heat, the grapes have developed enough fruit flavour to give the wine body and structure but picking early ensures high acidity and low sugar levels. Once the wine is made, very little happens: it's aged for a couple of months in stainless steel before bottling. Young Hunter Valley Semillon is neutral and quite dull, with at best vaguely fruity, herbaceous aromas. As the wine ages, it changes into something much more interesting: waxy, nutty, and honeyed, rich but retaining the high acidity. Wineries delay releasing their best wines for at least five years, and Hunter Valley Semillon isn't worth drinking before then. This makes it one of the few white wines that genuinely improves with age. Try Brokenwood's ILR Reserve 2009 (A$75; $58 ✪✪✪✪✪ ) for a great example of how Semillon ages - this wine still feels remarkably young, with fresh acidity and grassy aromas, but nutty aromas are beginning to develop and there's a steely, mineral, waxy texture. Such wines are best enjoyed with food, especially with the Asian cuisine so popular throughout Australia.

shiraz

The other grape variety Hunter Valley is known for is Shiraz. Again paradoxically, the heat produces a restrained style, quite different from the wines of South Australia. The quick ripening and heavy autumn rains lead to an early picking, which means that the Shiraz wines aren't as rich and fruity. Their restraint made them seem quite dull in comparison, though there is an earthy texture which has led to comparisons to the northern Rhône - I felt the wines lack the depth and complexity to justify those comparisons.

Grape growing is so tricky in Hunter Valley that wineries source grapes from elsewhere, even from as far afield as Margaret River. It says a lot about Hunter Valley that the one wine we bought while there was a Shiraz from the cooler climate of Canberra ...

Western Australia

After landing in Perth (and recovering for a few days from jetlag), I repeatedly listened to Nick Cave's song "More News from Nowhere." That's no concidence, as Perth is one of the most isolated cities in the world, two thousand kilometres from its nearest major Australian city, Adelaide. Adding to that tangible sense of isolation, the main wine region, Margaret River, is another three hours south of Perth, and the other quality area, Great Southern, is five hours away. Despite its far-away location, not only is some great wine made, there are some very good microbreweries and Margaret River is the centre of a vibrant tourist industry.

Margaret River 

In 1965, Australia’s leading agronomist Dr. John Gladstones published a report commissioned by Western Australia's government into which areas of the state might be best suited to grape-growing. He pinpointed Margaret River, due to its Mediterranean climate (very wet winters and dry, hot summers) and its gravelly soils, which he rightly felt made it ideal for Cabernet Sauvignon. Two years later, another doctor, Tom Cullity of Perth, planted vines, laying the foundation for Vasse Felix, still one of Margaret River's premier wineries. Others followed: Cullen planted vines in 1972 and Leeuwin Estate in 1974. The elegant wines, quite different from the bold, fruity wines often made elsewhere in Australia, caught the attention of the industry on the other side of the vast island, and now there are over 150 wineries in Margaret River, receiving acclaim around the world.

wine and surf rule in Margaret River

Margaret River’s location is certainly ideal. The best vineyards are located not far from the Indian Ocean, which moderates the climate. The proximity to the ocean means that there are lots of trees planted around the vineyards, to protect the vines from strong winds. The ocean also bring in lots of rain - Margaret River receives nearly 1,200mm of rain a year, 1,000 of which fall in the winter. These heavy rains provide the vineyards with water for the growing season; some wineries irrigate rarely and there’s plenty of water in reserve if it’s needed. Despite the summer heat, Margaret River has a long growing season, ideal for Cabernet Sauvignon while also adding complexity to the white grapes.

styles of wine 

tasting room pours are excessively small

Margaret River, particularly in the northern part, is textbook Cabernet country. It's usually blended with a bit of Merlot, but the latter grape is falling out of favour. It's being replaced by Malbec, which was originally planted by Tom Cullity in 1967 when the grape was much less fashionable than now and which adds a spicy, tannic structure to the wines. The Cabernet blends are full-bodied but not too tannic or fruity or overripe.

Shiraz, despite the best efforts of local winemakers, doesn't really work here, being too thin and dilute. Instead, it was the white grapes I found most interesting. The Bordeaux influence is again important, as Sauvignon Blanc and Semillon work together very well. Semillon is too unfashionable these days to make it commercially on its own, but its waxy, full-bodied texture complements perfectly the herbaceousness and acidity of Sauvignon Blanc. These blends are fresh and lively; those without any oak ageing are quite fruity, while those with oak ageing have complex, engaging aromas of vanilla, spices, and nuts. The latter are particularly ageworthy, with enough body and acidity to last five to ten years, if not more.

Some of the greatest wines being made in Margaret River, however, have nothing to do with Bordeaux. Chardonnay here is simply superb. Clones planted in the area take a long time to ripen, gradually building up aromatic complexity (I also heard that the grapes are susceptible to leaf roll, which slows the ripening). At the same time, acidity is preserved from the cooling breezes coming in from the ocean. Just as importantly, what I most liked about Margaret River in general is that winemakers don't interfere with the wines too much. The Chardonnays are by no means overoaked: oak is used to give the wines a spicy texture and body but the fruits and acidity are still very pure.

wines 

Cullen Kevin John Chardonnay 2015 (A$115; $90) 

Named after the founder of one of Margaret River’s first and still most distinctive wineries (they are certified biodynamic), this is an expensive Chardonnay but as good as it gets. This a smoothy, subtly textured wine: smoke, cream, and vanilla come from the oak, and there’s a dry, stone, mineral mouthfeel, given weight from the oak and aromas of stone fruits and cinnamon and all-spice. This is a white wine I would love to taste in another ten years, or even more. ✪✪✪✪✪✪✪

Stella Bella Suckfizzle Sauvignon Blanc-Semillon 2012 (A$45; $35) 

Stella Bella have some great labels and some great names: Suckfizzle is their vineyard to the south of Margaret River named after a character from Rabelais. This is a terrific example of a Sauvignon Blanc-Semillon blend with a little bit of maturity: a creamy vanilla texture from the oak, waxy, green, herbaceous aromas from the grapes, refreshing acidity, and a rich, round mouthfeel. Such wines are particularly food friendly - with white fish or white meat, and spicy dishes that are popular here given the proximity to south-east Asia. ✪✪✪✪✪

Leeuwin Estate Art Series Sauvignon Blanc 2015 (A$31; $24) 

Margaret River Sauvignon Blanc on its own has a crisp, refreshing acidity one would expect from the grape, but there’s also a richer texture to it than from, say, Marlborough in New Zealand. This Sauvignon Blanc is part of Leeuwin Estate’s “Art Series,” the labels of which feature a different work of art by an Australian artist each year. The most famous of the series is the Chardonnay (A$99; $75; ✪✪✪✪✪✪), one of the first wines back in the 1970s to show the potential for Chardonnay in Margaret River. The series also features Riesling, Shiraz, and Cabernet Sauvignon. I particularly liked this distinctive Sauvignon Blanc for its rich, dry, mineral texture, its stone and tropical fruits, and its interesting, spiky aromas of lemongrass and nettle. ✪✪✪✪✪

McHenry Hohnen Amigos White 2012 (A$28; $22) 

Due to the warm Mediterranean climate of Margaret River, there is some interest in planting Rhône and Spanish grape varieties. In theory, this should work but the old-fashioned winemaking techniques of the Rhône and Spain don’t always translate well to the New World - I tasted a few Tempranillos which were simply too clean and straightforwardly fruity. White blends are more successful, perhaps because they don’t need the long ageing. The Amigos, from the founder of New Zealand’s Cloudy Bay, is a blend of Marsanne, Chardonnay, and Roussanne and despite the presence of Chardonnay is a characteristic white Rhône blend: stone and tropical fruits, nuts, white pepper, and ginger aromas in a rich but balanced wine. ✪✪✪✪

Margaret River's first modern winery

Vasse Felix Cabernet Sauvignon 2013 (A$37; $28) 

The original Margaret River winery produces a range of three Cabernet Sauvignons, including the high-end Heytesbury ($A90; $74; ✪✪✪✪✪). I also liked the mid-tier Cabernet (with 7% Malbec and 1% Petit Verdot in the blend), a range which the winery introduced in 2013 as part of an expansion programme. This has a smoky texture, with intense, concentrated black fruit aromas and chocolate, coffee beans, and a spicy peppercorn finish. A very good example of the full yet balanced Cabernet blends of the region. ✪✪✪✪✪

Si Halcyon Merlot 2015 (A$40; $31) 

Si (named after owners and winemakers Sarah and Iwo) are an eclectic winery: they are based in the south part of Margaret River, away from the renowned vineyards of the north. They make wine from their small vineyard from vines planted in 1978 and also own 5ha of land in north-east Spain, making wine from Garnacha grapes (I can’t imagine the amount of travel that must involve). They’ve also got Shiraz in Great Southern, showing the good sense to ignore the Shiraz planted in Margaret River and concentrate on the best area in Western Australia for the grape. The philosophy is minimal intervention, with little sulphur added, and lots of experimentation. This makes their wines quite distinctive, and making a quality Merlot in a region where others feel it’s too green and astringent demonstrates the couple’s obstinate but quality-orientated temperament. This is a tight, wound, tannic wine, with red plums and black cherries giving it a juicy texture, with a dry, herbal, spicy finish. ✪✪✪✪✪

Established producers such as Vasse Felix show the long-term quality of Margaret River; more experimental producers such as Si point to the potential for the region to go in different directions. It’s quite a conservative region (as is Perth itself), so don’t expect much change just yet: just be assured of consistent quality.

Great Southern 

A region with more surprises, however, is Great Southern, which unfortunately I didn’t have enough time to visit. While in Perth I got to taste a few wines from the region. Its climate is more varied than Margaret River's, becoming gradually more continental as it goes inland. Shiraz has a rich, voluptuous elegance to the wines, characteristically Australian but with a spicy, game undertone. The subregion of Mt. Barker, which has a combination of Mediterranean and continental climates, is especially good for Shiraz. Another subregion, Frankland River, inland and more continental, specialises in Riesling, the cool nights keeping the acidity high. The wines I tasted had some sweetness to them, unusual for Australia - more of a German style, but still with a lime fruitiness. Great Southern is definitely a region to keep an eye out for.

Syrah and Shiraz

Grape varieties are known by many different names: Tempranillo is also called Tinto Fino, Tinto de Madrid, Tinto País, Tinto de Toro, Ull de Llebre, Cencibel, Tinta Roriz, and Aragonês throughout Spain and Portugal. These different names come from local tradition and language differences – another Spanish grape Garnacha is known as Grenache in France and the rest of the world. The most famous name difference is Syrah, as it is called in France, and Shiraz, its Australian name.

Syrah’s spiritual home is the northern Rhône, in the small, hilly appellations of Hermitage, Côte-Rôtie, and Cornas. This is as far north as Syrah will ripen, producing intense, gamey, long-lived red wines. In 1831, Scotsman James Busby travelled around England, France, and Spain, commissioned by the Australian government to bring back grape varieties potentially suitable for Australia’s warm climate. He brought nearly seven hundred grape cuttings, including Syrah, or Shiraz as it became known in Australia.

The name change has always been confusing: why did it develop a completely different name in Australia? I had always thought that because the Australian wine industry developed in relative isolation, the name of the grape had mutated locally, just as grape varieties had taken on different names throughout Europe. Australians also speculated that the grape had come from Shiraz in Persia (modern-day Iran, which is today the biggest grower of table grapes) rather than from France.

I was recently reading A History and Description of Modern Wines by Cyrus Redding, a textbook about wine first published in 1833, around the same time James Busby brought his cuttings to Australia. It’s an interesting book and still very readable. He lists dozens of different grape varieties grown across Europe, some of them now forgotten (Orleans, a grape once important in Germany), some familiar (Merlot, Grenache), and others that are familiar but spelt differently (Pineau, for instance). His description of the northern Rhône is the most surprising: "Hermitage is produced from the Scyras, or Shiraz grape." The name Syrah is not mentioned anywhere in the book.

This small detail would make it seem that the grape is called Shiraz in Australia because that was one of its French names when Busby was travelling around the country. Redding also notes that "it is said to have been brought from Persia," again showing that this theory about its origins is not an Australian invention, but one that had previously existed in France.

I went to James Busby’s account of his travels around France and Spain, Journal of a Tour through some of the vineyards of Spain and France (1833), to see what he called the grape. He spells it as Ciras, listing Scyras as an alternative. There seem to have been many spellings of the grape’s name. Busby spells it Ciras, Redding Scyras, and John Livingstone-Learmonth’s book The Wines of the Northern Rhône lists other spellings such as Syra, Chira, and Sirac. All of these spellings revolve around the word Shiraz, again suggesting that the origin for the Australian name is French.

Busby takes the story of the grape's Persian origins further: "the tradition ... exists in the neighbourhood [of Hermitage], that this variety was originally brought from Shiraz, in Persia, by one of the Hermits, who resided in the Hermitage of which the ruins still exist on the Hill where the celebrated wine of that name is produced." The theory that the grape came from Persia persisted until quite recently, but it was disproved by Carole Meredith of UC Davis. She discovered that the grape is probably the off-spring of Dureza, a grape found in nearby Ardèche, and Mondeuse, from Savoie to the east of the Rhône.

the Hermitage chapel, which dates back to the 1200s; photo from foodwineclick.com

Modern-day clones of Shiraz (and Chardonnay, which Busby calls Pineau Blanc or Chaudeny) in Australia can be traced back to Busby's original cuttings, but the grape nowadays grown in the northern Rhône is probably quite different from that of the 1830s. Cloning since the 1970s has focused on developing grapes with bigger berries, producing more expansive and riper flavours. The original, smaller Syrah still exists, called Sérine in Côte-Rôtie (as Redding himself notes) and Petite Syrah in Hermitage – not to be confused with California’s Petite Sirah, whose origins are yet another story.

Blind Tasting at Australia House

One of the many daunting aspects of studying for the Diploma is tasting wines blind. All you have in front of you is a glass with some wine in it, and after that it's up to you. No clues about taste, no prejudices about quality, and lots of fear you just might get it completely wrong. Sniffing the wine, swishing it in your mouth, writing tentative tasting notes are a test of your ability as a taster, proof that you can distinguish a good wine from a bad one, as well as one style from another.

At the same time, it's an exciting challenge. The wine speaks for itself; you have to dig deep into your knowledge; and if you get something completely wrong, it's a learning experience for the next time. And if you get something right, there's a feeling of smug satisfaction you shouldn't cherish for too long.

so what's the point of blind tasting and how do you go about it?

The point of blind tasting is quite simple: you taste a wine without knowing what it is in order to form an objective opinion. It's almost like a conversation where the wine is speaking to you in code, which you use your knowledge and experience to interpret. It's difficult - as much knowledge and experience as you have, that code can still be indecipherable - but with a certain logic, educated guesswork, and luck you can come to the right conclusions. Perhaps more importantly, you can discover exciting wines you might have otherwise ignored.

Blind tastings, for instance at the launch of a region's new vintage, can involve hundreds of wines or, at smaller tasting events, are arranged in flights - that is, three or more wines that have something in common to taste side by side - with the purpose of distinguishing wines by quality, style, origin, flavour, and/or price. It requires knowledge, of course - for instance, what Cabernet Sauvignon generally tastes like compared to Syrah/Shiraz - and the ability to reach conclusions based on that knowledge. Look for flavour characteristics and think of grapes they're associated with; the intensity of the aromas may also point you to a grape or a region; analyse the acidity on tasting and, for a red wine, the tannins; and from all this draw conclusions about the style and quality of the wine.

But it also requires a great deal of guesswork and luck; after all, there are so many wines out there doing their own thing and not adhering to textbook descriptions. That's why assessing the flavour profile and quality of the wine is just as, if not more important than, guessing the grape the wine's made from: origin is important, quality is essential.

When you discover the identity of the wine, will your opinion change or be confirmed? Will the price point alter your view of the wine commercially? Will you turn away in disgust and inwardly curse, I can't believe I liked that wine?

Australia House

I travelled down yesterday to the Unreal City for a blind tasting arranged by Wine Australia. This is part of a series of trade blind tastings they've arranged in order to promote Australian wine, all held at the Australian Embassy. A great opportunity to taste a range of styles of Australian wines, there were twenty-one wines arranged in four different flights. Excitingly, there were quiz questions too. Tasting these wines one after the other, without knowing what they were but constantly trying to work out what they were, was intense and tough. The difficulty is at the beginning of the flights conclusions are formed that the subsequent wines dispute. Still, when I got a list of the wines afterwards, I didn't do quite as badly in the quiz questions as I had worried.

flight one

Four white wines: three of them from the same grape, the other from a different varietal. Which was the odd one out and what was the grape? Wines with a palate-cleansing high acidity and a searingly dry finish pointed to Riesling, but the quiz question didn't help because with each wine I was trying too hard to spot the one that stood out as different. In the end, I plumped for the wine which had fruitier flavours and was less dry, but I had no idea which other varietal it could be. As a safe bet that's always wrong, I went for Chardonnay. It turned out to be Pinot Gris; I don't think I've ever had an Australian Pinot Gris before, so this was a new experience. I didn't actually like it that much though (one of the indications to me that it wasn't Riesling).

trick wine: The Lane Block 2 Pinot Gris 2012, Adelaide Hills (£15)

best wine: Gatt Eden Valley Riesling 2010 (£20)

 

flight two

Six white wines, all the same grape variety: which of the wines is from Margaret River? In France, it's possible to differentiate between regions because the grapes used are different: despite the similarity in name, the differences between a Pouilly-Fuissé (made from Chardonnay and powerfully oaked) and Pouilly-Fumé (Sauvignon Blanc) should be clear in a blind tasting. The differences between the wine regions of Australia are less clear, because the same grapes are grown across the country and styles vary according to producer as much as anything else. The wines in this flight were all from Chardonnay and I went for Wine 7 as being from Margaret River just because it was fuller bodied and oakier than the other wines. No idea if it was educated guesswork or sheer luck, but I was right.

Margaret River wine: Voyager Estate Chardonnay 2008 (£22.40)

best wine: Lethbridge Allegra Chardonnay 2008, Geelong (£46)

flight three

Six red wines, all the same grape variety: what's the grape variety and which is the most expensive wine? The menthol aromas of the first wine suggested that it was Cabernet Sauvignon, aromas which were constant throughout this flight, to the point that I felt the wines were just too minty and eucalyptus flavoured, lacking the black fruits and oaky tannins that makes wine from Cabernet Sauvignon so appealing. The best wine by far was the final one of the flight and which I selected as the most expensive of the six. As with the Chardonnays, my favourite was the most costly: proof that I have acquired an expensive palate, but also that price and quality do sometimes correlate.

most expensive wine: Balnaves The Tally Cabernet Sauvignon 2008, Coonawarra (£82)

best wine: as above

flight four

Another five reds: which one is from Barossa? Part of the education in the guesswork is knowing which grapes Australia mostly uses: for whites, there's Semillon, Chardonnay, and Riesling, for reds Cabernet Sauvignon and Shiraz. Of those five, it was obvious that there could only be one of them missing in these four flights and that it was going to be white. The simple difference between Cabernet Sauvignon and Shiraz, I have found in Diploma tastings, is the menthol and cassis aromas of the former and the chocolate aromas of the latter. The Shirazes impressed much more than the Cabernets, as there were some really complex, developed wines. Which one was from Barossa? Didn't have a clue, so went for the one I rated the best. That was from Adelaide Hills. My second favourite was from Barossa, at £9.99 amazingly good value.
 

Barossa wine: Thorn Clarke Shiraz 2010 (£9.99)

best wine: The Lane Reunion Shiraz 2010, Adelaide Hills (£28.50)

There was another quiz question: which of the wines on show is not from Australia and where's it from? My methodology here was to find the wine that wasn't screwcap, but every single bottle was (this is why a blind tasting should be served in neutral bottles). I went for one of the Cabernets as being from Hawke's Bay in New Zealand because it had gripping, unripe tannins (and most wine from New Zealand is screwcap and I thought wouldn't it be wonderful for the Ozzies to advertise a Kiwi wine in their own embassy), but it turned out to be a Chardonnay from South Africa. It would have been much more fun to involve a French wine, for that direct New World/Old World comparison; plus, it's so difficult to distinguish between New World wines as it's down more to the producer than the region or country.

my guess at non-Australian wine: Chapel Hill Cabernet Sauvignon 2010, McLaren Vale (£20)

actual non-Australian wine: Bouchard Finlayson Crocodile's Lair 2012 (£13)*

This was a great, if intense, educational experience. The wines were mainly of very good quality; the tasting showed just how good Australian white wines are; and I do feel my tasting qualities have improved since I started my Diploma. One caveat though: Wine Australia have been hosting these tastings once a month since March through till June, every one in the same venue in the centre of London. The rest of Britain would like to learn about Australian wine too!

•yes, at an Australian tasting they picked a non-Australian wine called Crocodile's Lair

Diploma Week Three - Australia

A month after enduring the spirits and sparkling wine exams, we reconvened for three days of tasting New World wine and, thankfully, no exams. I'm a little suspicious of the term "New World"; after all, some of the oldest vines in the world are in Australia and California. However, as the first day tasting Australian wine demonstrated, the development of serious, quality wine, as well as popular, affordable wine, in non-European countries is a relatively recent phenomenon. Our tutor for the day, Michael Buriak, recalled working in the wine trade in the 1980s and stocking his shop's first ever bottle of Australian wine, seen as a novelty item. It sold out instantly, and Australian wine has never looked back - it's now consistently the number one selling wine by country in the UK. (Only the US drinks more Australian wine than the UK, and that's because of the ubiquitous Yellow Tail brand.)

The popularity of Australian wine makes it an interesting category. It's best known for producing inexpensive, high-volume, drinkable wines which unfortunately means that consumers are likely to stick to the inexpensive wines and ignore the high-quality, premium alternatives. This is a perception Australian wine is trying to shift, but when big brands like Jacob's Creek and Hardy's dominate the market it's hard.

Despite having 120-year-old vines, Australian winemakers are still learning their trade, moving on from big, oaky Chardonnay and fruit-bomb Shiraz to produce wines of elegance and subtlety. As I've learnt from working at hangingditch over the last eighteen months, and as this day's tasting further proved, premium Australian wine can be sensational and is getting better and better.

what we tasted

This was a stellar line-up, showcasing Australian wine at its best and most varied. Much of the wine was not the inexpensive stuff that makes Australian wine so popular, but it meant that we gained a real understanding of Australian terroir.

Australia is divided into areas of geographical indication. Although some of these areas are particularly associated with a grape variety or style of wine (e.g. Coonawarra and Cabernet Sauvignon), there are no real rules to them beyond geography. They can be very small or enormous, and there's probably no larger wine region in the world than South Eastern Australia, not that different in size from the EU. If you see the term South Eastern Australia on the label, then it's likely to be an inexpensive wine produced in the bulk regions of Riverland, Murray Valley, and Riverina.

Our first wine was an example of what makes Australian wine so popular. Hardy's Nottage Hill Chardonnay 2013 (c.£8) is a high-volume wine from South Eastern Australia, which basically means absolutely anywhere. It's been given oak qualities through the use of oak chips to give it a semblance of complexity. It's a decent wine that will make a sunny weekend perfectly pleasant. We saved this wine to taste alongside other Chardonnays later in the day, which did not do it any favours.

After that, our tasting was all about quality and varietal/regional typicity. Shaw + Smith are an excellent winery based in Adelaide Hills. Australia is a huge country dominated by arid, inhospitable desert. As with the population centres, quality wine is focused on the cooler coastal regions, which are cooled further by altitude. Thus, there's a concentration of quality wine regions around the city of Adelaide, such as Barossa Valley, Eden Valley, Clare Valley, and Adelaide Hills. We tasted two of Shaw + Smith's wines, both of which were very good. The 2013 Sauvignon Blanc (c£16) was as good a Sauvignon Blanc as I've tasted in a while, while the 2012 Chardonnay (c£25), perhaps still a little too young, had an engaging delicate oakiness - a real indication of how Australian winemakers have discovered the attraction of restraint.

Interest in Riesling, the great and underappreciated German grape, has been revitalised by dry examples from Australia, particularly Eden and Clare Valley. Grosset Wines are a producer active since the early 1980s; winemaker Jeffrey Grosset considers 2013 to be the best Clare Valley vintage he's ever experienced, and the wine we tasted was from Polish Hill, one of the best sub-regions of Clare Valley (c£30). Therefore, the wine had a lot going for it, but its searingly high acidity meant that this wine possibly needs a few years before it drinks nearer its best. A more approachable Riesling came from a famous producer in Western Australia, Leeuwin, whose leading range of wines, "Art Series," features a work of art on the label each year from a local artist. The 2011 Riesling (c£20) was a complex, ageworthy wine, but still full of immediate citrus and sweet spice flavours.

In the same Art Series was the most expensive wine of the day, the 2010 Chardonnay (c£60), an outstanding wine that had everything you'd expect from a oaked Chardonnay: big, rich, toasty, with tropical fruits. Worth £60? If you've got the money, then yes. (The more affordable Leeuwin "Prelude" Chardonnay from the Wine Society gives an indication of what the premium version tastes like.)

Other than Riesling, the white grape that works best in Australia is Semillon. As Michael pointed out, this is one of the world's great grape varieties but is vastly underappreciated. It's there in Bordeaux in white blends and classic sweet wines like Sauternes, but other than it gets largely overlooked. We tasted a couple of Semillon wines, which showed how well it works in Australia. The first was my favourite wine of the day, a 2007 from Brokenwood in Hunter Valley (c£25). Hunter Valley is a region to the north of Sydney, its inhospitable climate as northern as quality wine gets in the country, but which is known for producing great Semillon. This was a fantastic wine: so complex and developed, yet its fruit fresh and young, a wine capable of lots of further ageing. The other Semillon was part of a blend with Sauvignon Blanc, as is common in Bordeaux whites. Produced biodynamically by Cullen in Margaret River, Western Australia, this was an unusual wine with 25% new oak to give it some depth and smoky flavours, as well as fragrant chamomile, thyme, and white chocolate aromas (c£20).

The grape that Australia is most famous for is, of course, Shiraz. The Eileen Hardy 2004 was a particularly interesting wine, as it demonstrated the difficulty Australia has in selling itself as a maker of premium, as well as inexpensive, wines. Produced by Hardy's, one of the country's leading brands, it retails at £40. For its quality, that's still quite a low price, but it struggles to sell. Why? Because who would pay that money for a wine by a brand? The wine was an outstanding example of a complex Australian Shiraz; identifiably McLaren Vale (to the south of Adelaide), with riper fruits than a French equivalent, it was a beautifully perfumed, elegant, mature Shiraz. Even maturer was the 1999 Jim Barry McRae Wood Museum Release. At £35-40 and fifteen years old, this represents incredibly good value. The wine is from Clare Valley; although known for Riesling, the area produces elegant, smooth Shiraz and this is a stunning example, with black fruits, leather and meat, coffee and floral flavours.

As all the great white wines we tasted showed, Australia isn't just about Shiraz. Cabernet Sauvignon is known for its association with Coonawarra (c£16), but it's in Margaret River, Western Australia, that the grape arguably reaches the heights of Bordeaux. The Vasse Felix Heytesbury (c£40), from the area's oldest producer (established 1967), was outstanding and a fitting climax to the day. As with many of the other wines, it demonstrated that the French concept of terroir is very much present in a New World country such as Australia, representing the qualities of the grape and the wine's specific area - and showing also that expensive Australian wine is very much worth it. 

The day's tasting was exhaustive (and exhausting) - and we had two days of other New World wine to follow. None quite matched the extensive, exceptional line-up of Australian wines, but I'm now on my way to California to explore fully the great wines of that region. Expect lots of blogs about sunshine and wine. I'll try not to gloat too much.