2016 Jilly Field Blend

As I write, I have just opened Jared Dixon's green-waxed and corked bottle of 2016 Jilly Field Blend the label of which features a greyscale, alert hare, the type you see, like wallabies for example, sitting up, ears vertical, scanning and ready to bound off in the opposite direction from what they are perceiving. The list of grape varieties in this Field Blend is like the chants of the Catholic liturgy for Easter: the reds being Nebbiolo, Shiraz, Tempranillo, Tannat, Pinotage, Tinta Cao, Touriga, Barbera, and the whites being Gewurtzraminer, Chardonnay, Viognier and Petit Manseng. Dixon took the grapes of the first rows of Mark Kirkby's Topper's Mountain 'fruit-salad' vine plantings, which are usually under attack from birds in the nearby bush. Dixon's hand-made wines are made from what it to hand. He whole-bunch pressed and fermented with the abundant wild yeast of New England and the Northern Rivers. The Field Blend's subtle, mixed perfume is of calamine lotion, vanilla and orange peel. In colour, it's really a deepish ruby-crimson, and that's because, despite those whites, many of the reds are big red-wine grapes. Its palate is, not unexpectedly, surprising: at the very end is the citrus of the whites; before that is, briefly, Turkish delight; in the middle, some musk sticks; toward the end, some orange peel again; and at the beginning is citrus, where the whites are very strong. So it is wine that glides across borders.

2016 Jilly Dick Dixon New England Shiraz Nebbiolo

Appropriately, given the chaos-based nature of living/life, Jared Dixon, the NSW Northern Rivers young, local, emerging wine-maker, has subtitled his 2016 Jilly Dick Dixon New England Shiraz Nebbiolo ‘addicted to the unknown’. It’s a deep, deep ruby red with an aroma of chocolate, tobacco and wood smoke. On the palate it is mostly savoury with a rough edge. It would be a beautiful wine with food, likely to enhance roast chicken or meatballs. A dedication to a Dick Dixon is emblematic of the intra-family association, not uncommon in wine-making.

2015 Jilly Roman Giallo

Jared Dixon's 2015 Jilly Roman Giallo (or yellow) is really extraordinary. A New England Petit Manseng, again it is a gold in colouring with a pink edge, orange too and ale-ish similarly. If I knew what gold bullion smelt like, I expect it would smell like this — along with being honeyed. And on the palate, it tastes of what I imagine, somewhat fantastically, gold dust would taste like. It's sherbet too. It is made with minimal interference, and Dixon said the wine fought through to its fine end, like the Romans, hence the name. The gold wax over the cork drips luxuriously down the bottle. And the Roman Giallo is on a leather-like shield or a piece of leather-like armour.

2015 Jilly New England Big Cats

Jared Dixon named a 2015 New England red Big Cats, the label featuring a lion's head, because Dixon thought it was a big wine. Made from Touriga and Tempranillo grapes, it is a deep, ruby-red velvet in colour with the illusion of purple. There's tart hot plum in the perfume, conveying the expectation of tannin, but it's smooth on the palate, yet with depth and length. Probably Dixon's best red to date, it represents a mature level of winemaking. Very drinkable, yet suited to experienced drinkers and fine dining. Very impressive.

2014 Symphony Hill Granite Belt Pinot Gris

We are lucky to have a winemaker running an independent, local bottle shop in a village in a regional area of NSW, Australia. Jared Dixon stocks the Clunes Cellars as if it was his private cellar. Currently he has the gifted Mike Hayes' wines from the Queensland Granite Belt's Symphony Hill, a distinctive label featuring a cello, almost coloured-block-coded for different grape varieties. To drink the Granite Belt is to drink something different than expected of South Australia, or even the NSW Hunter Valley. To drink the Granite Belt's Verdelho and Pinot Gris is to drink something much lighter than expected. The 2014 Pinot Gris is the palest of pale lemon silk in colour with just the slightest tinge of pink, so light it could be hallucinatory. It smells of the lemon combined with pineapple. On the palate it's astringent with unripe pine coming through

2015 Jilly White Wolf of Cumbria ENew England Rosé

In Jared Dixon's 2015 Jilly White Wolf of Cumbria Rosé, Pinot Noir is combined with Gerwurztraminer, both from New England. The colour is bronzed-orange pink, like shiny, new polished copper. There is strawberry and some citrus in the perfume. The palate is salty water and preserved blood orange or tangerine/mandarin, with honey mead on early palate and ginger in the mid-palate. Since Dixon's inclination is food-friendly wines, I thought lusciously about our forthcoming lamb chops while I drank a first glass.

 

2015 Jilly FIFO Barossa Valley

Jared Dixon's 2015 Jilly FIFO Barossa Valley Rosè is orange-red in colour, extraordinary really, with a red fading to bronzed orange: something like the robes of Buddhist monks. Shame they don't drink wine: they'd look good with a glass of this in hand. It has a tart orange Mirella-jube perfume with ripe, juicy mandarin at its edge. The oddity comes from its combination of Marsanne (a white grape) with Grenache and Mataro (reds). So it’s the Marsanne that gives it its tart-jube saltiness. With some cloudiness from its limited interference ideology of making (basket-pressed, indigenous yeast), in the mouth it is interestingly dry: you'd want to be near salt water when you drank it. A kind of beach/desserty/ arid outlook would suit. Spain perhaps. The Middle-eastern coast. Not quite with swimming-tog suitable, but loose-fitting clothes in ecru/cream. A straw sunhat to boot. And, and yeah, sunglasses. Peanuts might be your suitable companions. Or, because of the current penchant for salting everything from caramel to chocolate to ice-cream, one could think about drinking it with these three. It's a Rosé I would not say no to on a hot summer day. See what liquorice would be like with it. I think cheese and bikkies would underplay it. Olive, yes. Chips, not quite. But taramasalata, yes, and therefore potentially caviar – but then, what do I know about that?