Any wine drinker who kept an ear to the ground during the ‘seventies and ‘eighties was probably wondering whatever happened to the Barossa Valley. This big, broad, sunburned wine region that hitherto had been regarded as the jewel in the crown of Australian wine suddenly lost all its gloss. Why? The cool climate revolution. Sunshine and flavour were out, lateness and delicacy were in, as wine enthusiasts struggled with the new buzzwords pushed by the instant experts such as “heat summation”, “sunshine hours” and “retarded ripening”. The cooler the climate, the later the season, the greater the publicity, the higher the price. If your wine wasn’t made in the Yarra Valley, Adelaide Hills, Margaret River, Geelong or Tasmania it simply didn’t sell. Key issues like actual wine quality and drinkability were given a back seat. Luckily we’ve grown up fast. We’ve absorbed the lessons that winemaking in cool climates has given us, taken a fresh, new look at wines made all over the country, and generally improved the balance, complex and style of the lot. Today there is a new elegance, richness and palate structure in the wines from our warmer areas, which owes its existence to the fact that the winemakers in these areas simply had to compete better. There’s so much more sophistication in the use of oak, for instance. Palate structure has improved greatly with fermentation techniques first tried in the cooler climates. Warm climate wines are less fruit-driven than before (there’s a contemporary buzzword for you), more harmonious, with an improved integration of fruit, oak and tannin. So let’s take a glimpse at the Barossa, a warm to hot region whose former image was squarely based on big companies like Seppelt, Kaiser Stuhl, Penfolds and Tollana, terrific ports and sherries, lovely old-fashioned reds and Oom pah pah bands. Today all those companies are one, the standard-bearers are small to medium-sized and the regional promotions are based less on Germanic kitsch and more on the remarkable quality and synergy of the Barossa’s remarkable indigenous wine and food. The new wines of the Barossa are still identifiable with those of the past. Shiraz and semillon remain Barossa standards, both made today in a modern rich and soft style, enhanced with small oak richness and texture. Peter Lehmann, known nationwide as the ‘Baron of the Barossa’, regards the valley as he would his own back paddock. “You can grow so many different styles in the Barossa,” he says. “The cabernets will always excel there, with merlot and malbec. Shiraz and semillon are dependable and chardonnay looks pretty promising.” I’m as convinced as ever of shiraz’s pre-eminent status amongst Barossa reds and find that the St Hallett Old Block, Peter Lehmann (especially the Stonewell label, which is given much time before release) and the Rockford Basket Press set the modern standard. Others by Elderton, Grant Burge, Barossa Valley Estates (the E & E Black Pepper Shiraz), Charles Melton and Bethany (a superbly rounded, lingering wine given two years in small oak) are close behind. Kaiser Stuhl’s Red Ribbon Shiraz is soft and faster to mature. Of the cabernet-based wines, special mention is due Seppelt’s brilliant Dorrien Cabernet, the sophisticated Signature blend of Yalumba, the uncompromisingly old-fashioned Mamre Brook red by Saltram and Peter Lehmann’s Cabernet Sauvignon. The cabernet-merlot blends of Bethany, Grant Burge, St Hallett and Elderton are riper, earlier and easy to drink. Barossa semillon is exemplified by the wines of Basedow (the White Burgundy), Bethany, Peter Lehmann and Saltram. Usually charged with oak, they mature quickly into soft, luxuriant wines of honeyed and toasty melon flavours. They lack the real distinction of top semillons from the Hunter and Margaret River, but they’re terrific with food all the same. Rockford’s Semillon is extraordinarily tangy and chewy, a meal in itself. Barossa chardonnay shares much with its semillon. It’s also made in a mouthfilling, soft and textured style, with ample flavours of tropical fruit, peaches, nuts and cream. Generally ripe and alcoholic, they’re quick to mature and delightful when they do. Top regional chardonnays are made by Bethany, Peter Lehmann and St Hallett. Peter Lehmann unapologetically associates the Eden Valley and Barossa Ranges – where some of Australia’s best riesling is grown – with the valley floor itself. “Our riesling from the Barossa Ranges has always been a strength, if you will permit me to say. These hills have been part of the Barossa’s birthright for the last thirty to forty years,” he argues. “I will, however, accept ‘Eden Valley’ as a town name. After all, they still have a float in the Barossa Valley vintage festival float procession!” Lehmann staunchly admires the Barossa’s dependability. “The Barossa hasn’t really had a bummer year for a while,” he says. “Only extreme and exceptional circumstances prevent you from achieving the ripeness you require. I’ve seen two really bad years since I’ve been there. One was ’69, when downy mildew hit and no-one picked it. Then in 1974, I came back from holidays and saw that the vineyards looked as if someone had been at them with a blowtorch.” “In ’83 we flash floods and lost some fruit, but the damage was localised only. We lost our sticky and the semillon. I hope the fish enjoyed them. But the Valley made some very good reds that year.” Well, whither now for the Barossa? Lehmann expects future improvement to stem from an increased awareness of its various sub-districts and their strengths. “It’s quite fascinating,” he says. “After all my years in the Barossa, I am still learning little bits and pieces about this particular area or this grower next to his neighbour and so on. I find it intriguing to isolate little regions within the general district, such as Kalimna, The Moppa, Ebenezer, Neukirch and Dorrien – seven or eight little sub-districts in what would be forty or fifty square miles, usually identified by a Lutheran church!” Judging by the number of churches in the Barossa and their proud and pristine condition, it would be difficult to argue that it hasn’t got God on its side. And in Peter Lehmann, Grant Burge, Charlie Melton, Rocky O’Callaghan (Rockford), Neil Ashmead (Elderton) and Bob MacLean (St Hallett), there are enough willing disciples to let the world know.
