Now that people are beginning to drink Australian riesling again, it feels good to be a wine writer. For several years some of the media have bemoaned the emergence of the unoaked chardonnay fad, and have worn out any number of quills, keyboards and pen nibs during a campaign supported by the leading retail trade to refresh the public approach to one of our best, but languishing wines. At the end of the process, there has been a truly unexpected outcome: Australian rieslings are now better, far better than they have ever been before. Back in the mid 1970s, riesling was the hip wine grape. Riding the crest of the move from drinking whites to reds, riesling represented the height of sophisticated drinking for countless Australians. Less sophisticated drinkers amused themselves and their partners with the raft of sweet Liebfraumilch and ‘moselle’ styled whites whose only real rival in the quantity department was Mateus Ros̩. My, how we have grown! Modelled on the classic wines of John Vickery, the legendary Leo Buring winemaker, Australian riesling was as dry as a crack. It was relatively low in alcohol (rarely over 12%; often significantly less) and cellared beautifully given its restrained expression of flavour and balance of acidity. Vickery himself left a legacy of long living, bone-dry, tightly protected and spotlessly clean riesling capable of maturing for decades. Then Brian Croser began to make even more popular rieslings with a modest residual cube of sugar – wines like the Hardy’s Siegersdorf 1975 vintage which changed the trend. Wolf Blass capitalised on this, making and marketing huge volumes of Yellow Label Riesling that people drank because they thought it was fruity and dry. But it was sweet, and Wolfie made a killing, well before other makers broke out of their pure, dry approach and started to copy. Croser was next to influence the wine when in the early 1980s he began to craft his so-called ‘dry spatlese’ style of Petaluma Rieslings, a term for wines made from fully-ripened grapes that are fermented to complete dryness. Most contemporary Australian riesling has since been influenced by this approach, which although sacrificing some of the exceptional longevity of the Vickery style, does engender mouthfilling flavour, plus surprising richness and mouthfeel. Great examples are today made in the Clare and Eden Valleys, the Great Southern and Victoria. This is the model for most modern Australian riesling, which has since been tuned even further by the modern masters, led by Jeffrey Grosset. The outcome of all of this has been a sound, consistent and oft-repeated model of Australian riesling. But given a small amount of fine-tuning with issues like fining, acid addition and management of sulphur dioxide, there hasn’t been much in the way of winemaking innovation with this grape. In itself that isn’t necessarily a bad thing, since as all makers of quality riesling would agree, much of the work behind a great riesling takes place in the vineyard. It’s also perhaps because of the steady, consistent fashion in which Australian winemakers treat their riesling that the regional differences in its wines are so well known and widely accepted. At this time, our two most feted riesling regions are both located in South Australia. The Clare Valley’s wines are ripe, juicy and punchy, delivering intense lemon/lime flavours framed by steely acids. The best can be exceptionally aromatic in their youth, and can develop slowly for many years. On the other hand, the Eden Valley’s rieslings are tighter, finer and more powdery. They often reveal a bathpowder-like scent, while their palate structure is fine, tight and chalky. They’re also capable of exceptional longevity. Joining these regions, but less consistently so, are the rieslings from Western Australia’s Great Southern. While there’s considerable variation within this large and diverse region, there’s a pleasing muskiness and spice about the perfume of the best of them, which can retain their racy freshness and zest well into their second decade. However, Australian riesling has always been a hard sell into the traditional European markets and even harder in the US, where tiny volumes in Washington State are made into a sweet, Germanic expression. By comparison with the best from Alsace and Germany, they have tended to appear rather one-dimensional and excessively clinical. Sure, that can be overcome with bottle-age, but riesling should arguably be a darned good drink even in its youth. The younger European wines typically offered more in terms of intensity, complexity, structure and refreshment. This is where the good news really comes in. Instead of suddenly abandoning the approach that has created their proud heritage of riesling, Australian makers of riesling have suddenly tuned into the very different techniques and philosophies deployed on the other side of the world, especially in Austria, whose rieslings have recently captured the imagination of the wine world. Several of our leading makers, such as Leo Buring, Seppelt (for its Drumborg Riesling 2004), Frankland Estate, Grosset, Mount Horrocks, Pikes, Orlando (especially with the recently renamed ‘Jacobs Creek Steingarten Riesling’), Delatite (for its VS Riesling), Castle Rock Estate and Tim Adams are steadily introducing different levels of more diverse winemaking techniques into their rieslings, with more interesting and complex results. They’re playing around to varying degrees with techniques such as oxidative handling with low sulphur levels, which is often followed by a decent shot of sulphur dioxide at bottling. Others are deploying ‘wild’ or ‘indigenous’ yeasts. Some makers are using a pre-fermentation cold soak, encouraging the development of rounder textures and secondary flavours. Others are playing with extended lees contact after fermentation, sometimes in the process developing profoundly wild and woolly flavours that do perhaps mask site-derived character in favour of winemaking expressiveness. Some, such as Frankland Estate, are even gearing up for maturation in very large and relatively neutral oak casks. Furthermore, our better makers are beginning to be more selective in their vineyards, treating special batches of fruit separately from the rest. As a consequence, we’re now seeing more complexity in our youthful wines, more interesting, slatey and minerally textures, more tightly sculpted palate structures and a significantly wider spectrum of fruit-derived characters. Indeed, riesling has an exciting future in Australia. It grows wonderfully well in a diverse range of regions outside those that have historically been identified with the grape, such as western Victoria, Tasmania, Mansfield and Victoria’s Alpine Valleys. I can’t help the feeling that we’re on the verge of something truly special with this grape, and even suggest that perhaps we have yet to unearth what might actually become a our greatest and most famous riesling regions. Go buy a bottle, and in doing so encourage those responsible for the improvement of the breed!
