By and large I will go to great lengths to avoid all but the rarest of ‘natural’ wines. The term itself is sheer anomaly – for the only true natural wine is actually vinegar.
However, as I have written before, I’m glad that people are trying to make the stuff. By taking our winemaking techniques into previously unknown spaces and using ideas and philosophies that would have been laughed out of any Australian winemaking institution, a number of skilled practitioners are actually improving the breed. These are the guys that have my full attention.
I met one, Michael Corbettt, just over a year ago at the Gertrude St Enoteca, owned and operated by one of the great free spirits of Australian wine in James Broadway. Corbett is a fascinating cat – talk to him for a few moments and you could expect anything in the glass – until you see something of technical perfection that has been pushed to a new and creative edge in terms of texture, purity and balance. Yes, they’re ‘minimal intervention’; yes, they’re small batch; and yes, they’re amazing. Whether under his labels of Vanguardist, La Petite Vanguard or Sanglier, each and every one of Corbett’s wines I have tasted (and there have now been a few) has presented a case that was both compelling and idiosyncratic.
He’s making skin contacted whites from Clare Valley riesling and Adelaide Hills chardonnay that you have to taste. As well as a spectrum of perfumed and textural wines based around McLaren Vale grenache that are taking this variety into another plane. Corbett made the first 100% grenache I have ever paid for with my own money, and I have been back on several occasions.
Right now I’m fascinated by Etna Rosso. I love it. Remember, I’m old enough to come from an era when Australian winemakers had no idea about texture in wine and if a white wine showed any texture in a wine show line-up it was intermediately discarded as faulty. So I love the mouthfeel and gravelly spine that Corbett and others are introducing into their reds, as well as the emphatic chalkiness and dry dustiness beneath their skin-contacted whites. Then I am pinching myself to accept the (un)reality that these wines are also technically perfect, consistent and professional. For me it’s pure joy.
Yesterday I had a similar discovery, this time from Andrew Wardlaw and his Eden Valley-based brand of Edenflo. Right now I have his three wines in front of me, and I’m once again the kid in the sweetshop. Wines his like skin-contacted Riesling Gewürztraminer, Eden Valley Syrah and Eden Valley Old Vine Syrah take me back thirty-plus years to when I first started thinking I could actually get into this wine thingummy. Like those by Michael Corbett, these are inspirational, and for much the same kind of reason.
In both cases it’s quite tangible and obvious how much these guys love their work. Their wines just bristle with affection. The Edenflo trio share a perfume, an energy, a balance and a purity – not to mention a texture that would have seen them discarded from any wine show 30 years ago – that is truly exciting. They share a brightness and vivaciousness lurking just above their underlying textural charm. They are stable, pure and able to last. They’re not wines as we have known them; they’re perhaps rather more interesting. I’m fully engaged.
So take my advice and be bloody quick about it because these wines are not made in 100,000 litre tanks. To get hold of Michael Corbett’s wines go here: https://www.vanguardistwines.com/collections/shop-wines. Email Andrew Wardlaw at [email protected] for a price list or order. Hurry. Volumes are tiny and prices are very affordable. Then thank me. You will want to.
