The waiting is over

By Jeni Port
March 15, 2005
Viv Thomson contemplates his pinot noir potential.

Viv Thomson contemplates his pinot noir potential.
Photo: Emily Dowling

Best's Great Western dusts off some fine museum wines.

Viv Thomson kicks himself - metaphorically of course - as he realises his less than extraordinary marketing skills.

Here he's been sitting on the oldest pinot noir vines in Australia - who knows, maybe even the world - and he has never considered capitalising on it.

Anyone who has bought Best's pinot noir might well suspect Thomson of simply cashing in on a trendy variety that's taking off, but Best's at Great Western has had the grape a long, long, long time.

How long? Try 1868.

In Thomson's defence, he didn't find out that his 1.2 hectares of original plantings from 1868 included both pinot meunier and pinot noir until the mid-1970s when a visiting French ampelographer (grape-vine expert) identified the jumble of varieties.

The grapes - the rough leaf (pinot meunier) and the smooth leaf (pinot noir) - were always picked and processed together and released first under the name Miller's Burgundy and then pinot meunier/pinot noir and finally pinot meunier.

They're still kept together, although now that Thomson realises the marketing potential, he is considering making a separate pinot noir from the ancient vines, a fine counterpoint to the pinot he makes from younger vines. Or maybe not - he needs some encouragement that it is a good idea.

It is. But before he even contemplates making a play with old-vine pinot, he's planning to test the waters, to bring a little of Best's history alive with a release of aged wines from the old cellars.

Unlike some companies that might release one or two oldies each year, Thomson is bringing out, en masse, 16 separate vintages spread across six wines. It brings back memories of the great annual Lindemans classic wine releases, except in typical Best's understated style there are no dinners at The Windsor planned to showcase their charms.

That they have charm, the warmth of taste and texture that comes after being shut up in a bottle for long periods, is almost beyond question.

Or is it?

Thomson wonders whether the wines he so enjoys will also be enjoyed by a younger generation of drinkers.

"They like wines full of fresh fruit, so what they will think of these wines I don't know," he ponders.

Best's Great Western chardonnay has always been an under-valued wine, probably because there is simply so much chardonnay about and Great Western is recognised more for its reds. But the style (like its Best's sister, riesling) has always shown firm acidity and a citrus punch, a wine more than suitable for ageing.

Of the three chardonnays to be released, the 1990 ($70.50) is the brightest and sunniest, all citrus, stone fruit and pears, with a light flintiness. "A cracker year," is Thomson's vintage assessment.

The 1986 (also $70.50) shows more development: sweet honeysuckle and toasty with a clean acidic zip on the finish. The 1989 ($65.50) is easily the more developed, broader and with less zip but more texture.

There's something here for every taste, which seems to be the object of the Best's exercise.

The year 1991 saw the first pinot noir made from the "new" 1980 plantings. Before that, the young fruit was sold to Seppelt for its sparklings or blended with pinot meunier. The 1991 pinot noir ($65.50) today appears earthy, leathery, with baked spice apples, a wine almost dry-red in style. The 1992 ($74.70) pinot highlights the dangers of old releases ("is it corked or just old and musty"), with one corked bottle and one sweet, raspberry-fruit example.

The "unusual", cooler 1993 vintage ($94), one not well-suited to shiraz and cabernet sauvignon, nevertheless suited pinot, producing light herbal notes, licorice, spice and red berries over time. This is a wine that makes the promise of an old-vine pinot appear very appetising.

The jumbled history of the 1868 block of pinot meunier/pinot noir and subsequent plantings of each variety is re-visited in a release of 1981 and 1984 pinot meunier and pinot meunier/pinot noir blends of 1987 and 1988.

The two pinot meuniers reveal a similar level of development, the 1981 ($111) with its dried fruit, the 1984 ($94) with a port-like raisin nuttiness.

It's hard to get a grasp on the style because pinot meunier is rarely seen as a table wine. The grape usually plays third-string to chardonnay and pinot noir in champagne or sparkling, so its appearance as a varietal under the Best's label over the years has stumped many a wine drinker. For a time, it was even marketed as an early-drinking light dry red, so to consider it as an aged red takes some getting used to.

Indeed, the pinot meunier and pinot meunier/pinot noir blends might be better appreciated with less bottle age. Asking 20-plus years of any wine is asking a lot.

The philosophy guiding museum wine releases is different for every winery. Some cherry-pick only the best vintages, others like to lay out a warts-and-all smorgasbord of styles. Best's falls into the latter category.

The cabernets in particular reflect vintage variation, with a firm herbal edge on an otherwise generous 1988 ($80.60), while the 1992 ($75.60) looked a little tired (two bottles were opened, one was corked) for a vintage that experienced "substantial unseasonable rain" around harvest time.

Thomson's biggest problem was not deciding what to release, but the price.

"You don't want to give them away but you don't want to price them out of people's reach," he says.

His dilemma explains why many wineries simply can't be bothered with museum releases. Having paid tax on his stock every year (up to 25 years in the case of the 1980 shiraz), the real value of the wine today would be astronomically prohibitive.

It all goes back to 1973, a black year for winemakers, when Section 31A of the Income Tax Assessment Act, which had offered a deferral of tax payments until the stock was sold, was abolished. It was a blow to producers who wanted to release aged wines, forcing them to release wines early to maintain cash flow.

The greatest interest for many wine lovers will be in Best's Great Western Bin 0 shiraz.

Ten years ago you might have easily pointed to the 1980 vintage - an outstanding year - as the pick of the three wines Thomson has chosen to release.

The 1980 ($111) is still a fine, elegant wine, a shiraz that highlights Great Western's relative subtlety with the grape. However, looking deeper and darker in colour with a range of complex flavours - chocolate, old spice, dried fruit, licorice - with good weight and texture was the exciting 1981 Bin 0 shiraz ($133). If only we could all age so gracefully.

This is not to suggest the 1986 Bin 0 shiraz ($109) is looking its age. It's not. Full-bodied almost to the point of opulence, the 1986 is generous, warm and textural. A gorgeous wine.

"A reasonable harvest" is how Thomson described the vintage in his private notes at the time - definitely a winemaker speaking here, not a marketer.


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