Having opened the bottle, I was bemused by the nose. The nose, in fact, was almost conspicuous by its absence, some slight talcum powder characters, perhaps but not a great deal else at this stage.
Once I’d taken a sip, any reservations evaporated as quickly as surface water in a North Queensland pre-monsoon summer.
Unlike the nose, on the palate the wine was bursting with stunning lime characters - more or less lime on steroids - tightly coiled around a core of acidic minerality. We were taking our time over the wine, and it opened up very nicely as I went about putting the ingredients for the evening meal together.
Reflecting on the Good friends we have had and, good friends we’ve lost/ Along the way I took another sip and was reminded of another passed mate’s seal of approval as far as taste was concerned.
It made my tongue go hard.
Precisely, Lester. The sort of wine that makes your taste buds stand up and pay attention.
With five bottles left, one of which is, like its cousin/brother headed for Southport, I think I’ll be taking another look in about three years.
The way the wine opened up on Saturday evening promises considerable riches to come.
