As another vintage approaches completion it’s difficult not to think of what Australian winemakers are doing to our most neglected grape, cabernet sauvignon. I’m not bothered so much that this outstanding grape variety has taken second place behind shiraz for so long, but by the extent to which its stocks have fallen. Cabernet making needs much the same sort of revival that riesling is currently and belatedly experiencing, or else we’re going to entirely forget what it’s all about. And in case you’re wondering what that is, it’s certainly not a shiraz look-alike. Several years ago I nearly lost my cool when a friend declared in public that you could count the number of top-class Australian cabernets or blends on a single hand. While I still take issue with the order of magnitude he chose, I’ve come around to agreeing with the point he was attempting to make: that most Australian cabernet handsomely misses its mark, especially at the more exalted end of the pricing spectrum. It’s not often that I find myself agreeing with entrenched French and English wine-related dogma, but in the case of cabernet it’s hard not to. Without suggesting they should all be the same, cabernet sauvignon and the blends in which it is dominant should have several identifiable characteristics. They should present a complete palate length with an accent on fineness and balance. Nothing should stick out, be it alcohol, tannin or over-ripe fruit. As they mature, they should gently ease into an identifiable spectrum of characteristics, becoming more restrained, yet even more fragrant and ethereal. On the contrary, too many Australian cabernets are excessively ripe and alcoholic. Their makers fail to realise that once they’ve achieved an alcoholic strength of over 14%, the wines retain that for decades. As fruit, oak and tannin subside, alcohol does not. What may begin life as a firm, bordering over-ripe and assertive young cabernet so often ends up as porty, fast-maturing alcoholic soup, without any cabernet characteristics whatsoever. Australian cabernets are repetitively cooked, jammy and simple. Too many makers and growers fail to understand that once cabernet grapes lose their freshness and turgidity and have begun to shrivel on the vine, it’s too late. In California it’s possibly even worse, with many growers worrying whether or not the grapes have received sufficient ‘hang time’ before they’re picked. I honestly thought that was a golfing term. Back home, it’s patently clear that winemakers are just dead scared of releasing a wine with less than 13.5% or more in alcohol. Even more likely, many aren’t aware that in many cases they would do better if they did. Too many Australian wines are made by people who think they’re making styles suited to cellaring when it’s patently clear that they’re not. And cabernet has borne the greatest brunt of their misunderstanding. Over-ripe shiraz makes an interesting curio whose time in the sun is right now, but whose clock is surely ticking. If over-ripe and jammy cabernet has ever enjoyed even a minute in the sun, I for one was looking the other way at the time.
