It would be quite fair to say that I have never been its greatest fan, but recently I tasted rather a lot of Grange Hermitage. Every vintage ever made in fact, including the 1951, a trial wine never actually released as a Grange. The experience was without equal in the ten years that I have tasted wine for a living. Furthermore, the sheer thrill of tasting through the years 1952 to 1955 inclusive was quite simply the most emotional experience wine has ever given me. How is it possible to be so moved by something which, at the end of the day is only a drink made from the fermented juice of grapes, and nothing more? I guess it could happen to anyone when they encounter such evidence of extraordinarily bold innovation and sheer genius in a field in which they, themselves, have some familiarity. Putting aside the now senescent 1951 wine, which was made as an experiment prior to the release of the first true Grange – the 1952 wine – it hits you like a comet how right Max Schubert, the inventor of Grange, really was. And after such little time: just two short years after a trip to Europe in 1950 intended to improve the standard of Penfolds’ sherry let him remain in Bordeaux for long enough to glean an unprecedented amount of information for an Australian visitor. The first Grange was the most innovative red wine in Australian history. For the first time ever and Australian red wine was given 100% new oak, finished its fermentation in that oak and for the first time, that oak was small. Schubert used the 300 litre hogshead size ahead of the standard Australian wine cask of 500 gallons. Using heat exchangers, Schubert also extended the wine’s fermentation to around two weeks, way beyond the one or two days common at the time. The result was instantly remarkable – uncompromisingly strong and concentrated, with a huge volume of bouquet that combined the raw oak with varietal fruit. The intensity of flavours was far in excess of any seen in Australia to that time. For several years Max Schubert kept his first Granges to himself but in 1956 he felt it was time to let the story out. All the Granges then made, including the suckling 1956, were revealed before a trade tasting in Sydney. It could have been the beginning of the end. The response to Grange, which gathered momentum throughout the year, was negative in the extreme – bordering on hostile. Later that year, the Penfolds board wrote to Schubert, telling him that Grange was a failure and he should immediately desist from making it. Although he was unable to use the new oak essential to the style, with a little insider help Schubert managed to continue making Grange from 1957 to 1959 without the knowledge of the Penfolds head office. They became known as the ‘hidden Granges’. Grange’s reprieve came in 1960 when the same Penfolds panel that first tasted the new wines was reconvened. The wine was instantly popular and the decision to stop it revoked shortly thereafter. The rest is folklore, although the industry took time to learn that Schubert had turned the Australian ideas of making red wine on their head. Well-known South Australian winemaker Peter Lehmann remembers his first taste of wine given a strong input from new, small oak. ‘When Penfolds just started using small oak casks I’d wonder what sort of idiots the wine judges were, giving gold medals to these horrible toasty oaky things? They were startling to me’, he says. Whatever way you look at it, whether you like it or not, whether you find it too expensive or not, you have to concede that Grange is a wine and a story without peer in Australia. Two people have done much to bring this remarkable wine and its story to you, quite independently of each other, yet equal in the value of their contributions. The first is wine journalist Huon Hooke, who has recently released his first book: Max Schubert Winemaker, a thoroughly researched and well-paced read which presents in full and intriguing detail the full story of Grange Hermitage and the many other achievements of its maker. ‘It was not an accident’, Hooke says of Grange. It was ‘designed… as an artist might design a great sculpture, or an architect a grand house’. Hooke presents an honest account of the story behind the story… of the wealthy and eccentric Penfold-Hyland family, which while they owned the Penfolds company, ran it and their staff as a feudal lord would treat his land and his peasantry. Hooke’s account makes you wonder what Max Schubert might really have been able to achieve under a different and more insightful management. Max Schubert Winemaker is published by Kerr and retails for $24.95. It is an essential purchase for anyone with a genuine interest in Australian wine and how it came to be. Penfolds’ legendary red wines are a cornerstone of Australian wine. As his incredible purchases of Australian wine only serve to confirm, Anders Josephson clearly agrees. Josephson is a former Swedish textile magnate who began collecting blue-chip and cellaring styles of Australian wines more than ten years ago. The first Australian wine he ever tried was the 1971 Grange Hermitage – the greatest made in the 1970s and one of the true classics. Today his collection – if indeed that term adequately encompasses the palate-loads of vinous riches he has amassed – of Australian wine is without peer. Through his new business, Anders Josephson Private Wines Pty Ltd, anyone with the interest can share in the rewards of his expense and patience. Anders Josephson’s wines are perfectly cellared at ideal temperature and humidity and, wherever possible, are sourced directly from their makers. To gain access to the extraordinary range of wine offers he makes available and to become a member of the ‘Friends of Anders Josephson Private Wines’, simply write to Anders Josephson, Gwanda Bay Manor, Gwandalan, NSW, 2259.
