In vino veritas  

As invitations go, mine to attend the three yearly Aromatics Symposium in Nelson this year was extremely welcome; not least because crisp, cool climate whites sounded like just the antidote to a week’s worth of full bodied reds at the Pinot Noir 2013 event in the sunny capital. And it was sunny. When Wellington’s weather god turns on the golden rays, there are few places to rival our capital city. 

Over the ditch in Nelson, it wasn’t half bad either when it came to sunshine but there was precious little time to worry about the weather. We were here to listen to one of Austria’s best white winemakers, Markus Huber, talk about Grüner Veltliner.

If Gruner has yet to make its way into your wine glass – let alone your consciousness or your wine list - you’re not alone. Plantings in this country are so small that it has yet to make a formal appearance in the New Zealand Wine Institute’s (aka ‘New Zealand Winegrowers’) annual statistics. But as Austria’s signature grape variety, it is extremely important there – and possibly on the decline, so many Austrians are keen to champion it here in New Zealand. Among them is Nelsonian ex-pat Austrian, Hermann Seifried and his second generation winemaking family, Chris and Anna Seifried. Further south, ex-pat Austrian Rudi Bauer – winemaker at Quartz Reef in Central Otago – is also a champion of the little known Grüner Veltliner.

But is Grüner Veltliner really going to be TNBT here? (If you’re not an anagram expert, that’s code for The Next Big Thing.) Tastings of Kiwi Grüner Veltliner alongside its Austrian counterparts showed marked differences in taste, despite extremely similar data in terms of alcohol levels, sugar ripeness in the grapes, acidity and pH. So, why the disparity in taste?
That Austria has been home to Grüner Veltliner for hundreds of years might have something to do with it. The winemakers there have not only had generations of time during which to learn to work with it, discovering the best fit in terms of soils and climatic zones, and the grape itself has gotten accustomed to growing in that environment. It’s a different story here in New Zealand.

We need to welcome in new grapes with open arms – and minds – but that necessarily means employing a philosophy of discovery rather than wholehearted agreement with every new style. I have yet to taste a bad New Zealand Grüner.

It’s hard to find a bad New Zealand wine these days; our wines are so clean, fresh, crisp and well made, we have an industry to be justly proud of. But I have yet to taste a Kiwi Grüner which resembles one from Austria in terms of its je ne sais factor of ripe apples but fresh crisp acidity; a sometimes low alcohol and an unrelentingly dry, medium to fullbodied style. It’s early days. I can’t wait to taste new versions of Grüners from this country; nor to see how they taste in another couple of years’ time. Their journey is our journey. We have yet to arrive, as North American wine blogger, Alder Yarrow, so saliently put it:  “New Zealand Grüner is a work in progress.”  

Where do retired winemakers go?
If Alex Corban is any indication, it’s not half bad. He lives in the ‘Pinot’ wing of a Havelock North rest home, amongst a sea of grapevines in the arid Hawke’s Bay landscape... Read more in The Dominion Post, click right. 

2012 John Forrest Collection Sauvignon Blanc $30

It might sound ironic when a New Zealand winemaker says it was a challenge to make a Sauvignon Blanc but this is no ordinary Kiwi white wine; it's his top shelf Sauvignon; made from a half acre of stony vineyard land with no subsoil, so the grapes are smaller and there are lower overall cropping levels. Both these factors accentuates the freshness of the Wairau River's stony land - as does the use of a yeast in fermentation which is usually reserved for Chardonnay. This is a lovely wine with intensity, body and a very long finish. 

This luscious beauty from Forrest Estate, above, is not the only new Sauvignon Blanc style from Marlborough; watch this space for more on Pernod Ricard's big new white wine, which has been in gestation for several years now. More to come this week...

 

Call me a hedonist, but I chose a front row seat in the stately new tasting room at Rippon Vineyard (pictured above) to marvel at the mirror-like lake, the snowcapped Buchanan mountain range and the miniature Ruby Island; named after a runaway gold miner’s daughter who holed up there in the late 1800s to escape an arranged marriage.As well as marvelling at the vast landscape, my fingers made screeds of notes on the 78 new pinot noirs poured; wines which reflect the respect with which winemakers in the deep south treated their pinot noirs from 2010 and 2011. Not every wine was perfect but, in general, the evolution in style of Central Otago pinot noirs is undeniably in the right direction: less oak, more delicate fruit taste.In Rippon Vineyard’s case, the wines are elegant, thanks to the thoughtful touch of biodynamic winemaker Nick Mills, who carries the torch his father ignited when he first planted grapes here in 1976. These days pinot noir rules the southern red winemaking roost - rather than the Siebel and Albany Surprise grapes that Rolfe Mills once planted - and, thanks to a wild bunch of winemakers in Central, there is a wider range of pinots emerging than ever before. But while Wanaka and Central Otago have the most pinot noir grapes planted in this country; a diverse range of styles and the biggest scenic wow factor, they are far from alone in pumping out impressive wines. North Wairarapa and North Canterbury are, in my opinion, this country’s most unsung pinot noir regions.In two days’ time, this country’s biggest wine event, the three yearly Pinot Noir 2013, begins in Wellington. For the first time, its focus is on distinguishing regional differences between Central Otago, Marlborough, North Canterbury (aka Waipara), Nelson, Martinborough and Hawke’s Bay. 

It may sound like a contradiction in terms, but the strongest string to New Zealand’s red wine bow is, ironically, the lightest red wine in this country’s arsenal: pinot noir. It’s a deceptive type of lightness; an iron fist in a velvet glove. 

“Rome is notorious for pick pockets, so take care when you change trains,” a friend wrote when he heard I was arriving at daybreak. As if. I’d been to Italy three times, travelled through inland 

Argentina, southern Portugal, backpacked in Thailand and survived a walk alone on a Turkish hillside (not good) and a game park in South Africa (admittedly, in a vehicle with a flat tyre, but still). I’m always careful with my wallet. I’m always careful when I’m travelling fullstop. The worst thing about this trip, I thought, would be arriving in Rome and immediately having to leave to go north; my third trip there and still no chance to check out the Roman Forum, tour the Colisseum properly or see the Vatican city. 

They weren’t to be blessed with my feet nor my wallet this time. Vinitaly beckoned and I had to hotfoot it north to join 139,999 others in the relatively small city of Verona; usual population 350,000. If an Italian wine fair sounds like gelato on speed, think again. Queues, air thick with cigarette smoke and more wines than you can imagine under a single umbrella or, in this case, under eight soccer field-sized stadiums on the outskirts of Verona. I was there to learn, which was easy with so much vino on hand. Then it was time to tour Italy’s north. 

The first stop was Piemonte which means ‘at the foot of the mountains’, but that’s no guarantee anyone’s going to see any peaks. The most famous local grape is ‘nebbiolo’, named after the fogs – ‘nebbia’ – which shroud... 

... this mountainous, hilly region most of the time. The day we arrived was a rarity. Bright skies drenched the vines in sunshine; ancient villages shone like sparkling hilltop jewels and grey roads ribboned the hallowed slopes, which are blanketed in vines. 

As our rental car roared its way up the hill to the town of La Morra, Piemonte’s mountains suddenly came into sight, racing along the horizon like a jagged jetstream before merging into a fluffy cumulous cloud. It was hard to tell where mountains ended and clouds began, but who cares when you’re surrounded by 550 kilometres of mountains encircling the region. My host, a Master of Wine, was thrilled by the weather; “My first trip here was overcast,” he said dryly, “And most of the time that’s what it is here; this is very unusual.”

If you’ve tasted northern Italian wines before and wondered what all the fuss is about but you’re still interested, the only thing to do is: visit. The wines here are a far cry from nearly anything Italian found anywhere else. More’s the pity. Barbera, anybody? If so, expect great things in Piemonte. Ditto the dolcetto. As with the food, the best wines tend to stay at home in Italy. I could get used to these lofty mountains and the wines their wild foothills inspire, but it’s time for Turin; home to the world’s slow food movement and, it turns out, the best G&Ts of my life at the Art Hotel Boston, slightly off the beaten track on the CBD’s fringe. But I was only there for a night before going back east to Prosecco land; Conegliano-Valdobbiadene. The name might be unpronounceable but the sparkling wines are cheap as chips and so good they’re being imitated all over the world. They also match seafood perfectly. How do the Italians even get fresh seafood in places like this – and Turin – which are seemingly so far from the sea? It’s a mystery that sprang to mind again when I arrived half a week later in Milan to test drive a new suite at the Four Seasons Milano. 

Construction on this exceptionally well restored and large hotel began in 1459; it was built as a cloistered convent in one of the oldest parts of Milan, today’s crossroads of fashion and top notch shopping; between Via Montenapoleone and Via della Spiga. Original 15th century frescoes still adorn its walls and ceilings, despite having been covered over in 1782 when the convent was converted into a private home. Its third lease of life began in 1987 when it was being turned into a hotel and an original Renaissance column was revealed during demolition of cladding. Even if fashion isn’t your thing, this is a top location to stay in; opposite the entrance to the hotel is a museum. 

Such is Italy. The architecture, fashion, food and mind blowing range of wines constantly take my breath away. Just as I was about to buy a pair of drop dead gorgeous cream boots during a rare spare moment, I reached into my bag to pull out my wallet, and realized it was missing. Oh, well. There’s a first time for everything. Even for seasoned, streetwise travellers – or those of us who are silly enough to think we are.       

Heading in the biodynamic direction may sound like fence sitting but there's none of that at the top quality Churton in Marlborough; owned by British-born, New Zealand-based Sam and Mandy Weaver, whose Abyss Vineyard is pictured here.  

This year's Vinitaly was a top reason to explore a little of the world's most fascinating wine country, and who better to meet than Walter Massa, thanks to his excellent UK importer, Master of Wine Michael Palij; these two are doing more than their fair share to champion one of the world's most underrated, least known and excellent white wines, Timorasso.

You may well ask: "What's that?" The answer is: the original Gavi grape. Which means, we're in the north west of Italy where Walter's outstanding 1998 Vigneti Massa Costa del Vento Timorasso was a pristine aged white with hints of an old Alsatian white. Believe it or not. Walter's Timorasso from the DOC of Colli Tortonese is a must try for those who love the acidity of great Riesling, the ageability of Chenin Blanc and

the indefinable freshness of Verdicchio, all rolled into one inimitable northern Italiano bianco - pictured below as Walter, Michael and I taste an aged bottle. 

I have a Diploma in Journalism (1989) from Wellington Polytechnic, New Zealand and, for the past 18 years, have combined a love for language and wine; writing about it in newspapers, magazines and 12 wine books. My wine column appears every Saturday in "Your Weekend" magazine in The Dominion Post - New Zealand's capital city's daily - syndicated to The Christchurch Press and Waikato Times. I edit Drinksbiz magazine and teach at the NZ School of Food & Wine. My first wine column was in Capital Times in Wellington, in 1994, after living in London, Edinburgh and the Shetland Islands, where work as a flambe waitress fanned the flames of wine passion. 

The NZ School of Food & Wine moved from Christchurch to Auckland following the earthquake of 22 February 2011 and it is one of the key places in New Zealand to Wine & Spirit Education Trust (WSET) qualifications; industry standard in the UK. Will be good when New Zealand restaurants, bars, wine stores and the wine industry follow suit. I teach it part time at the school. http://foodandwine.co.nz/Sommelier

Dog Point Winery founders, winemakers, viticulturists and wine lovers... Ivan Sutherland and James Healey, pictured right, at the after party following the 4th Dog Point Vineyard and Logan Brown Classic Kiwi Picnic in Marlborough, New Zealand, on Saturday 10 March 2012. Dog Point wine highlight: 2010 Dog Point Chardonnay - This youthful Chardonnay tastes like it has a long life ahead with fresh vibrant acidity running as a solid core through this full bodied, savoury style, thanks to the wine spending significant time on lees, post-fermentation. Here's a wine that shows the South Island can produce outstanding bone dry white combining the best of New Zealand's vibrant fruit flavours with an innate understanding of great white Burgundy. Best ever DP Chardonnay for me.

Left, Ivan Sutherland blind tasted visitors, including yours truly (pictured) on 2000 Vega Sicilia Unico, 1993 The Armagh, 1991 Ornellaia, among other unblinded wines, of which the 2003 Rene Engel Grand Cru Echezeaux was the highlight.