Pears and mangoes

Are pears and mangoes an unexpected combination? Though unexpected for me, it proved surprisingly apt. The mangoes highlighted the lemon taste of pears, and the pears the coconut taste of mangoes. Hence, the combo comes up with lemon coconut, that irresistible flavour of icing that makes deliciousness of a plain cake.

2017 Sud de Frank

The nomenclature, Sud de Frank, is a superb joke, playing on South of France, referring to Provence, and more, for its famous Rosés, prompting me to ask the question: is it possible to drink a bad Provence Rosé? And my answer: I think not!

The label’s jokiness resonates more with me, because Frank, a name that connotes a larrikin quality, was what and who my father, Frank, was exactly. Frank paid for a commercially screen-printed t-shirt for himself, with ‘Be Frank’ on the font and ‘I’m Frank’ on the back. That’s from a story I wrote, which is another story.

The 2017 Sud De Frank Rosé (and I only know it’s 2017 because the single shop-, not bottle, label said so) is made from Sav Blanc and Petit Manseng. Neither grape, nor, again, year, is mentioned on the label: most annoying is what I say, although completely in keeping with European practices where everyone knows where a particular grape variety is discretely, distinctly grown. But not here in Australia, I want to say, not here!

 In Australia, practically every grape is grown practically everywhere, although not to its best. Put the @#$$%^ year and the %$##@& grape on the label is what I say. And why a Rosé, you might ask, with Petit Manseng and Sav Blanc – white grapes. Frankly(!), I don’t understand/know. But the website for another wine I drank from a local bottle shop, the 2017 Blind Corner Blanc, a combination of ‘white’ grapes – Sauvignon Blanc and Semillon, and a hint of Chenin – says ‘white wines aren't actually white, unless someone has put peroxide in it or something’! I don’t’ get it.

2016 Sud de Frank Rosé

Sud de Frank Rosé is a partnership between Jared Dixon of Jillywineco in Clunes, the Byron Bay hinterland which actually has a wine zone, the Northern Rivers, and Dan Graham of Sigurd Wines in the Barossa. Dixon and Graham met in winemaking at university. Sud de Frank is the latest avatar of both Dixon and Graham whose other sobriquets are Jilly, White Wolf of Cumbria, FIFO, Lone Ranger, Big Cats, and Sigurd. It’s hard to keep up. So this is a joking-title (?) of a wine, seemingly French, with the label and cap cutely representing the French flag colours. (I love it, too, because my father was Frank and frank.) It is a gorgeous traditional Rosé, of bronze/salmon in colour, rich strawberries and cream in perfume, and gobsmackingly dry on the palate. To drink, to drink, to drink. What I don’t like is the absence of year, grape variety and regions on the label. And this could do with the winemakers’ names too.

 

Long Point Vineyard Lake Cathie Midnight Rosé

Long Point Vineyard Lake Cathie Midnight Rosé, from winemaker Graeme Davies, is red-ruby velvet in colour, with a perfume of toasted waffles, maple syrup and some rose. The palate is honey-ant. While light at the end, it has good middle depth and texture. The label is v-shaped to establish symbolically that long point, with a logo of L and P cleverly coupled. 

2016 Jilly The White Wolf of Cumbria New England Pinot Noir, Sauvignon Blanc and Gewurztraminer Rosé

The 2016 Jillywineco The White Wolf of Cumbria New England Pinot Noir, Sauvignon Blanc and Gewurztraminer Rosé (although not named as such on the label) is sharp on the palate, with citrus, grass and straw. It’s a bright but watery blood colour, with aromas of honey, vanilla and marmalade.

Konpira Maru Wine Company Vermentino

Konpira Maru Wine Company make a Vermentino, but the company is new to me. The website says 'Wines made in Melbourne, true to variety and the ground in which they're grown'. But the website does not tell you where 'Konpira Maru' comes from. The young men featured on the site, Sam Cook and Alastair Reid, are the winemakers, helped by our local Jared Dixon. Like most of Dixon's not-interfered-with white wines, the Konpira Maru V for Vermentino is a cloudy gold in colour, being unfiltered and unfined. Nuts, citrus and butter feature in the aroma, and the well-judged, mid-length palate is creamy with green apple. If I wanted to say what Vermentino is, this is it … as well as the Yalumba Vermentio. There's no year on the bottle, but the label is black, with grape in white and company in red. The detail of winemaking includes 'batonage', an old wine-making technique: stirring the wine-in-barrels with a baton.

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.