WINE AND DINE IN WOODSIDE
Adelaide Hills winery Bird in Hand has re-launched its onsite dining room as LVN, a farm-to-table eatery. Executive chef Jacob Davey, most recently the head chef at Adelaide’s Restaurant Botanic, will oversee the degustationonly offering. At its core are seasonal native ingredients including Tasmanian mutton bird and wallaby, pipis and coastal fruits from south of Adelaide and kangaroo from Adelaide Hills. Open Saturdays and Sundays for lunch from 12 noon, bookings essential at birdinhand.com.au
Chic spin on seltzer
At $25 for a four pack of 330ml cans, new Sydneybased hard seltzer offering Mode is pitching itself at the premium end of the market. Unlike US-made competitor White Claw, Mode is made with a distilled spirit (vodka) as opposed to a fermented malt base. Flavours are a rollcall of hip ingredients, including Davidson plum, pepperberry and yuzu.
LIMITED-EDITION LARK
There are only 135 bottles of Lark’s latest ‘rare and remarkable’ collection release, a Tasmanian single malt whisky finished in a 1911 Seppeltsfield Para Vintage Tawny cask. Founder Bill Lark has long sourced ex-sherry barrels from Seppeltsfield, though this special edition – at a cool $5200 a bottle – may be the jewel in the crown. Before graduating to whisky, the single barrel held a precious parcel from the 1911 vintage of the Seppeltsfield’s Centennial Collection tawny. The result is liquid history. larkdistillery.com
Q: At a wine tasting, I heard someone talking about primary, secondary and tertiary aromas. What exactly are they?
KATE BURRIDGE
A: In a nutshell, primary aromas and/or flavours are all about fruit and florals coming from the grape variety. They are more often associated with young wines, but not always. Secondary aromas and/or flavours derive from winemaking inputs such as oak, malolactic fermentation, lees-stirring, whole bunches used in fermentation and so forth. Tertiary always describes aged wine. For example, a youthful Margaret River chardonnay might have primary aromas of grapefruit, lemon blossom and lemon zest complemented by secondary characters of creamy lees, flint from sulphides, oak spice, cedar and grilled nuts.
And with age, tertiary aromas kick in. They might include wax, creamed honey, a hint of buttered toast. If you remember time equals tertiary, you’ll remember the difference.
Q:
During a rummage in the cellar (aka the cupboard under the stairs), I unearthed a retsina, purchased around five years ago. Will it still be drinkable? Redolent of piney resin flavours, will it transport me back to the coast of Skopelos? Or will the turpentine undertones now dominate, ruining its usual delicate balance? Your advice would be much appreciated. I am reluctant to just turf it – after all it was, I believe, $11.95.
A:
I can understand why you wouldn’t want to turf it, spending that much. Although, I’m wondering if a couple of ouzos passed your lips before asking as, really, I’m sure you know the space under the stairs is not a cellar and
I’m almost certain you know the answer to this question, anyway. Firstly, retsina isn’t for the cellar – it doesn’t age well and should be enjoyed with Dionysus and friends to relish the bright flavours. And it also doesn’t really smell or taste of turpentine despite what some folk say; poorly made retsina oxidises quickly and it’s the smell of a dead wine not turpentine. Yes, resin from the Aleppo pine is added during fermentation, and later removed, to give the wine it’s distinct pine, botanic, salted lime aromas and flavours. Regardless, I doubt your wine will transport you back to the coast of Skopelos but rather to the recycling bin out your front gate. Of course, the real answer, open the bottle and taste it, then all will be revealed. But have a backup, perhaps Gaia’s ritinitis nobilis or Kechris Tear of the Pine, to know what compelling retsina tastes like. While a lot of dreary stuff is still produced in Greece (every country produces dull wines, no one is immune) it is a shame this ancient wine-style did become the country’s bête noire. But it no longer defines its wine scene, which is incredibly diverse and exciting thanks to its astonishing array of indigenous grape varieties, plus a new bunch of producers making excellent wine, which includes vibrant, fresh and/or complex retsina. Yiasou.
Q:
A friend has an extensive collection of wine in an air-conditioned/ air-purified cellar, his most expensive bottles kept in plastic sleeves to preserve the labels and bottles. I have a cellar under the house, without air-conditioning, and wonder if using plastic sleeves would have any detrimental effect on the wine?
I loathe plastic. It is an environmental blight, so do reconsider using such coverings. Do you really need to cover your bottles at all? That said, plastic sleeves won’t have any detrimental effect on the wine and while they might protect the labels, be aware the slightest amount of moisture trapped between the label and plastic can be a breeding ground for mould, and thus, you’ve haven’t protected the labels at all. Any bottle must be completely dry and clean first. Also, plastic disintegrates in time, another (enviro) annoyance to consider. While I don’t know your cellaring circumstances, not having a temperature-controlled cellar, or one that is at a constant cool temperature with the right humidity, is a more pressing issue than plastic sleeves. ⬤
Letters have been edited for length and clarity.
NICK CARR
COLIN KNOX