Back in the good old days when European countries weren’t yet up in arms over wine appellation, you could name your wine in honour of the region of the grape’s birthplace. Burgundy, Chablis, Champagne. In many regards, Australians today have abandoned the ‘Burgundies and the Chablis’ but are still grappling with the term Champagne. I hear it thrown about on a regular basis when the term Sparkling wine is meant. “I am after Bella Champagne” — “No, you are after Bella Sparkling.”

Unlike Champagne, the term Rhine Riesling has too gone the way of the dodo.

On that note, wines made in the era of lose appellation often surface now and again. 1986 turned out to be pivotal for Leeuwin, the Rhine Riesling soon to become the ‘Arts series’.

Deep yellow in colour like when you have too many B vitamins, it has all the toffee notes from afar, that flitter from butterscotch to lemon whizz-fizz. The palate has softened, bringing with it what it could drag from the nose. Toasty complexity meets limey zing. A totally coherent little bento-box of surprises. The acidity (still fresh) is enough to bestow the title of Methuselah. If only it had been on screwcap it could live for another two decades. Once in a lifetime wine.

Now 1986 is almost quarter of a century of life in the bottle. And who does the best value-for-money age-worthy Rieslings in Australia?

Great Southern.

Producers like, Castelli, Castle Rock, 3 Drops, Oranje Tractor, Frankland River Estate. They all do fantastic wines.

If you can track down a good Riesling and squirrel it away for 25 years, you’ll be surprised with what you’ll find.

It may just be a taste hangover from the previous rabbit post, but again I’m in the game, for game. And good wine.

Aside from the standard European table-fare of game (rabbit, boar, pheasant, grouse, etc), we decided to have a crack at Kangaroo, Emu and Possum.

Yes, I know eating all of our national coat of arms would probably make the rest of the world recoil in horror, but I must tell you, when paired with good wine, it’s a  combination worthy of the deserved political atrocity.

Kangaroo is now a common meat available at most retail supermarkets, but keep hush-hush about it. I’d like to see it at $13.67 per kg for a long time still.

Emu is less common. With a dark meat, and similar pH, texture and taste to beef, you’d be hard pressed to convince a Beefeater it was a giant bird from Australia.

Last was Possom. Confit(ted), it tasted like duck with a slight ripple of porkyness. The texture was akin to chicken thigh that had a run-in with a forceful kitchen-hand. New Zealand has an issue with possums; they should eat them crumbed with sweet chilli. “Sweet Chilli Possum Wrap at KFP” — Perhaps it’ll take a while for the market to warm.

The wine that we decided to pick-a-part on the night was Forest Hill Vineyard “Boobook” Shiraz Viognier 2007 [Great Southern]

From first inspection it’s easy to tell there is much going on below the surface. Good splatterings of ripe berries and decorous oak which swayed between vanillian and cedar. On the tannin-front the wine presents a powdery texture, as if you copped it in the mouth in a baby-parlour. Purposefully  balanced, with Viognier’s heart sent on complimenting Shiraz and not providing too much to dwell on; Florally lifted, tumultuous fruit. As easy going as you’d expect from  Great Southern for the price. 17.6 points

Spend Summer with the Locals. Flora and Fauna.

OK.

So I may be a little obsessed with wine from Great Southern as of late.

But I can assure you there is reason for this unhealthy obsession. First it was the 2001 Gladstones.

Unfortunately I was remiss in brining my camera to the tasting, thus no review.

But I can say, if you have it sitting down somewhere, drink it now. The leather tones are only going to increase.

Speaking of leather, the Pinot offering by Castle Rock Estate is something worthy of a fatty chew.

As with most Pinots, it’s the colour of an anaemic Cabernet. On the nose it’s mixed-tape of rhubarb, strawberry and a certain barnyardiness that gives all Pinots their allure.

Over the tongue, it’s got a deep sinewy feel. Something not unlike a fatty cheddar. But I’ll leave it at that. It’s racy with electric acidity but held into check with a good expressive fruit weight.

Well worth a try.

Go Great Southern*.

*if this was facebook, I’d like this.