Doktor Weingolb

This is for Alex, whom I am a fan of. Alex works at ArtJava downtown, my regular coffee stop.

Alex, last name St-Laurent, was trained by Anthony Benda, who is currently the third-ranked barista in the country (he placed as a runner-up in a strong debut performance at the Canadian Barista Championships last fall).

These are big shoes for Alex to fill no doubt, but with his keen aptitude no one doubts he could do it. One day at ArtJava, Alex surprised me with his interest in wine. He approached me for advice on how he could find and drink more of the red wines that he most enjoys. He already knew most of what he needed to know -- that he likes a style of red wine with a smoky flavour profile -- and he even knew that Syrah would be the varietal that would most likely offer him this.

All that was left for me to do was consult my back pages to see what's a good deal on wines like these and not be too far from a roughly $20 to $30 price range he set for himself.

It's practically do-it-yourself blogging. But Alex is a smart guy, so what do you expect?

Links to original reviews feature clickable images that navigate directly to the SAQ online catalog, where you can check the supply of the wine and which stores near you stock it.

• Smoke-filled blueberry goodness ... actually greatness! (but run to get remaining bottles): Château Cabrières Coteaux du Languedoc (rouge) 2001 $21 (including all taxes)


• A "Pastiche" of red fruit, but notable smokiness: Joseph Phelps Vin du Mistral Red Pastiche 2005 $18


• A non-Syrah-based taste of smoke with a Pinot Noir varietal supplying greater acidity (LCBO only): Francis Coppola Diamond Collection Silver Label Pinot Noir 2005 $28


• Smoky bargain of the 2004 vintage, and of recent releases too probably: Château Mire L'Étang Cuvée des Ducs de Fleury Coteaux du Languedoc La Clape 2004 $17

And last but definitely not least, Boschendal "The Pavillion" Shiraz Cabernet Sauvignon Coastal Region 2005:

• The paradigm of Syrah smoke from South Africa, done up with notes of petrol and wood that give it a blue cheese tone typical of many New World wines; but here it is exceptional for its smart balance, extraction of fruit and stunning texture: Boschendal "The Pavillion" Shiraz Cabernet Sauvignon Coastal Region 2005 (The bargain of the bunch at $16 -- but I have not yet tasted the 2006 vintage that is rapidly replacing the 2005s.)

Pniel Road, Groot Drakenstein, South Africa. 14%.

Update: I pointed to a picture of the Pavillion bottle (at top) which I found on the web after SAQ.com, who stocks it within the province, ran no image of it in their catalog. It's laziness of me for not taking a photo of the bottle myself. But it's sheer stupidity I didn't better explore the site that the picture came from.

That site is EWine.co.za -- not to be confused with EWineCentral.com -- and it is apparently more than a your typical online wine vendor. They house a lot of good content on the South African wineries and winemakers, including audio media, like the sound file of an interview with Boschendal vintner JC Bekker, all placed nicely on a a profile page devoted to Boschendal. Louis Ferreira, who runs the Ewine.co.za site, provides important insight and authority -- especially for anyone like me who really has little exposure to the breadth of today South African wines.

Aussie wine dynasty is launching redesigned bottles with pointy bases; current vintages of Shiraz still prove to be sharp despite their traditionally rounded bottoms

I feel quite late in posting this New World Shiraz review. Not because I was uploading a heap of Chilean, Californian and Australian Shirazes last week for Wine Blogging Wednesday #30 and not because I went bouncing from browser to web browser trying to find a way to upload today's notes (I had to use Safari to sign in and do the image uploads but Mozilla to actually publish). No, no, it's none of those things. This feels so late because the 2004 bottle of Rosemount Estate Shiraz pictured above seems light years behind the fancy vessels used in their other wines, like the 2006 Sauvignon Blanc that is out now, shown over on the right.

In case you haven't seen it, Winorama has posted a full review for it -- well, a review of the wine at least. But I found myself immediately drawn to the image of the bottle itself, which is a design wonder: it's a typical wine bottle that comes to four points at the base. It's a clever marketing idea to concretely convey Rosemount Estate's diamond logo within the physicality of the vessel that contain their Diamond Label wines. Sheesh, this is starting to sound like a semiotics essay. The point is that I bet Francis Coppola is kicking himself for not coming up with this showy gimmick for his similarly named Diamond line first.) It simply looks great, especially when it's carrying white wine.

But the package shouldn't affect the wine, should it? Hmmm... would blind tastings exist if it didn't? Would millions of dollars in advertising and product placement be spent if packaging didn't affect people's perception of the goods? As a serious taker of wine tasting notes, I hope that none of those things gets in the way of my assessments. But there is something about the bottle I have that is worth drawing particular attention to.

The 2004 Shiraz wine bottle, though not as pretty as the newfangled one, does feature another interesting if somewhat odd physical feature: the flange-top. I know there are people who hate the way flanges interfere with some corkscrews but I happen to like these a lot. Flange openings seem to let the wine flow out of the bottle in a more graceful stream. You're less likely to slop and if it's a delicate older wine you are less likely to add extra aeration from a choppier flow. Flanges do collect dust though and their shape prevents manufacturers from covering them with capsules so they do require dusting from time to time -- but then some corks flake upon uncorking, which makes this a moot point in my mind. (This report from last year indicates all that I had suspected -- the Rosemount flange-top is out and even the Shiraz bottles will eventually start donning the sleek new look.)

I digress. In the end, the Rosemount Estate Diamond Label Shiraz 2004 is going to arrive in your glass pretty much the same no matter the carrier, pointy-toed bottom or flaring flange-top. Trying my best to block out all the fanfare, here's how I found it:

It sports an opaque purple colour with pink rim. On the nose it is rich -- big savory cherries and spicy grenadine with a hint of eucalyptus. The spicy element translates directly to the palate.

This is a big and instantly rewarding wine. The oak is noted at beginning middle and end on the palate but it's not a turn-off; it's well integrated and sincere. This varietal may not be tremendously structured, nor does it possess a fantastic finish but it IS a quaffer. The acid is there and even on the second night nothing got too overly rounded for my liking.

Rosemount's version reminds me a lot of Midi Syrah, but juicier, more savoury, more viscous. A definite barbecue wine, meaning serve it with any bold food year-round: Harissa-scented sausages with couscous and chickpeas, grilled chicken salad or delivery pizza that on any other night would be too sweet and heavy for your elegant French wines.

Denman, New South Wales, Australia. 14%.

Looking down the barrel of New World Syrah/Shiraz ...and I see good and bad.

For this month's WBW theme, brilliantly resurrected by Tim at Winecast (who is always ready for for a WBW throwdown -- good job organizing Tim!), I wanted to taste more than just one rendition of New World Syrah.

Why? Well, I don't usually drink much New World wine, and certainly not its version of the Syrah grape, which in Australia is infamously known as Shiraz. Because I'm inexperienced with all but the Aussiest of versions, I wanted to try to cover all the bases and not come out of the event making a snap judgment.

So I tried for three, got confirmation that at least two of the bottles were majority Syrah, and then from there took away one solid winner.

First, let me introduce the third wine, the also-ran, which ended up seeming to be ineligible for this event. It is the Joseph Phelps Vin du Mistral Red Pastiche 2005 (see image at lower right).

The 2005 vintage of Pastiche is mostly Grenache and Syrah with some Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot. The exact figures aren't released. I even tried calling the Phelps 1-800 number to get closer to the details on this wine, but no luck. The stuff lives up to its "table wine" vagaries, and I can respect that. Suffice to say, the Syrah can't reach 51% of the composition of this wine -- what with Grenache being listed as the first ingredient and then two other grapes added into the mix. Yet the Syrah does stake its claim in this winning blend, which is quite reminiscent of a fine Rhône cuvée. It is a dignified and delicious dinner wine (it goes beautifully with Jacques Pépin's roast chicken, which is a meal I posted about just a couple of days ago). This Pastiche possesses all the smokiness and bite that a great Syrah would.

In Quebec (where I write from) Red Pastiche has a new lower-than-ever price -- some three dollars less than the LCBO in Ontario, which is a coup. And now that it is under $20 (Canadian dollars, that is) this wine is both a great value and an impressive offering. Nothing short of a great Californian example of robust viticulture and ingenious winemaking.

Speaking of fantastic wine at attractive pricepoints, witness the first bottle you see at the top of this post. It is the Errazuriz Estate Shiraz Valle de Rapel 2005. Buy this wine!

A vanilla-sweet nose opens up into a dark and berry delicious full-bodied wine. From the very outset when I uncorked this bottle, it was hard to believe this was a $15 wine. On the palate you get strong anise flavour supported by a cream soda edge. It is perfectly calibrated and the acid and tannin here make this wine soft and round and totally worthy of $20 or more. The Errazuriz has all the savoury spice you'd expect from an Old World Syrah, all the charm too. Bolstered by a firm oak backbone, it's clear this wine has got the goods to make it big. You could say that it could go far. And yet, I am tempted to say this is something designed to be drunk young. Its vigor and mouthpopping attack demand it. That, and a great big hearty steak with fried onions in a red wine sauce.

If what Errazuriz produces can showcase great dimension and a nice viscosity in an affordable Shiraz, Jacob's Creek on the other hand makes a wine that washes down too much like water. Jacob's Creek Shiraz/Cabernet South Eastern Australia 2004, pictured second at the top of the post, is only $1 less than its Chilean counterpart. You will want to fling that buck you save right out the window.

This blend of at least 51% Shiraz does get better with aeration but that is about all I can say in its defense. I tried to put this wine through its paces and it tasted like grape juice in the face of the above. Light to medium body with little in the form of real personality. And that is a shame because I've tried the 100% Shiraz varietal from Jacob's Creek and it holds its own. Perhaps I could refer readers to that post and in so doing end this entry for WBW #30 on a positive note.

That is what WBW #30 deserves, because in my mind, this installment has been a really striking topic and one that an Old World wino like me finds rife with interest, surprise and tremendous wine value!

Viña Errázuriz, Santiago, Chile. 14%; Rowland Flat (South Australia), Australia. 13.5%.

I picked up this bottle at a "Solde du directeur" sale virtually sight unseen. Château Cabrières Coteaux du Languedoc (rouge) 2001 possessed three fairly ordinary qualities that when put together create a truly winning combination:

• Coteaux du Languedoc provenance


• red blend from the 2001 vintage (great for Midi, especially the Languedoc)


• 25% off the regular retail price

Unless the bottle turned out to be corked, you would have to be a fairly perverse individual not to love the wine that features each of the above attributes.

I rushed out to buy replacement bottles of this wine. The sale had ended but I didn't care. Because even at $21 (I had discovered it for only $15) this stuff totally turns my crank. In the best words I can muster, here's how that works:

This wine is nearly the end of its design life, but so much the better. There's an orange rim around a very dark purple robe. Deep notes of leather and animal make me want to inhale the aroma of this wine continously. There's even a hint of bacon. Awesome!

Echoes of spice and garrigue pervade. But after greater analysis, I get rust and raisin and chocolate. Château Cabrières Rouge has a generous body on it and after five years, I suspect it is at its most limber. There is integrated and well-proportioned acid and a beautifully soft tannic presence.

I guess if nothing else I would have to call this wine complex. I end up tasting and pondering the stuff all through dinner, which by the way, was a lamb chop -- the magical 4th item to the list above if ever there was one. But back to the wine's complexity: It's got pomegranate and molasses and burnt sugar. And did I mention fruit? Perfectly savoury and delicious fruit -- what you'd expect from any Midi red -- is well represented in this shimmering and multifaceted gem of a wine.

Château Cabrières doesn't need food but if you are at the dinner table I would definitely recommend that you give it the little lamb that it deserves. With some quick grilling, your meat will complement the wine magnificently.

Cave de Cabrières, Cabrières, France. 14%.

My barbecue isn't exactly the real thing but...


La Baume Selection Shiraz Cabernet...


...makes poser barbecue food entirely authentic!

At first all I could do was turn on the stove and follow a meagre strand of smoke as it trailed into the air. The only hint of real BBQ flavour I could hope for, coming up from yesterday's oil splatter still clinging to the electric element.

And so WBW #23 begins humbly, but a not-so-modest bottle stands in my corner.

The 2001 Selection Shiraz Cabernet from Domaine de la Baume pours out of its bottle (which has a nifty panoramic wrap-around wine label) in blackened reddish purple stream. A bit like black cherry syrup or perhaps blood -- c'mon it's a barbecue theme, let's celebrate the joys of meat!

This wine exalted my faux barbecue from the moment I uncorked it. Its feral volatile nose -- mustardy and at the same time funky smelling too -- was wild and unrestrained.

To finally taste it, La Baume Selection Shiraz Cabernet 2001 is not complex but assertive with great depth on the palate. It's a full-bodied spicebox kind of wine with nice tannic edges that are not too sharp but still manage to give off a generous amount of supple vanilla-loaded oak. Kind of sweet and very reminiscent of a big Aussie style of wine. Which makes sense: it's no coincidence that this Vin de Pays D'Oc hides its provenance on the back label and uses mostly English on the bottle. Domaine de la Baume is an a now-expired operation that was run by Australians transplanted to Southern France. Since 2001 was a landmark year for Languedoc, I'm happy to have had at least this lone bottle from these stylish vintners, the Hardys from Down Under.

On the second night, this La Baume (most likely a French name chosen based on its similarity in pronunciation to "The Bomb") opened up more to reveal even more fruit. Great and rich fruity flavours -- blueberry mostly and cassis. Like many wine of its style, it is a tad high in alcohol but it doesn't taste too, too hot and whatever heat it gives off you are rewarded for by pairing it with barbecue food. This wine is built to stand up to smoky, spicy and meaty meals. In general this wine is nice to have around food.

In addition to my rib-eye, grilled zucchini and taters, this Shiraz-Cabernet blend also hit it off with sundried tomato and basil sausages. Such is the beauty of the flexible and BBQ-friendly Cabernet-Syrah mixture. Good times. Thanks to Vivi's Wine Journal for the open invitation.

Servian, France. 14.5%

In today's wine world, this blog and today's reviewed wine could be considered black sheep. Thoroughly blackened. Domaine Bousquet 2003 (click image above), as a French vin de pays, is all about blending lesser-known grapes -- the antithesis of popular New World varietals. And as for Weingolb, a quick scan down the index of entries in the sidebar reveals that as of this moment I have not made one mention of a single Californian wine. Ooops! Or I mean Baaa-aaa...

Well maybe black is my colour because I believe blends and other non-varietal wines are nothing to be feared, shunned or neglected. I get the impression that California has instilled in the wine-buying public a desire to drink a particular grape when they dine. Matching grapes to plates is a fine idea but so is a match based on a wine's style, terroir or any other attribute that transcends the presence of a certain grape variety.

Opening a bottle of Domaine Bousquet may be the ultimate test for followers of New World trends. It's a total mystery wine as far as the ingredients go. Like Colonel Sanders' 11 herbs and spices, the recipe here is not divulged, even within this descriptive record for vintage.

ENCÉPAGEMENT MYSTÉRIEUX

You have to be pretty proud (and possibly very French) not to reveal the grapes you've vinified to make your blend. Or maybe you just need to think about wine differently. What I mean is that this wine comes from the French department named Aude in Roussillon (of Languedoc-Roussillon, an industrious and sprawling wine region in south of France) and that might be all you really must know in order to make an informed decision about whether this Domaine Bousquet is the right bottle for you to open tonight.

Classic Roussillon style usually includes flavours of dried fruits, a dusty nose, and robustness that lends itself perfectly to simple everyday Mediterranean cuisine. It also sells for song, as many vin de pays do. This is perhaps the biggest reason not to get all fussy about whether your favourite grape is given top-billing on its label. Take a chance! The low pricepoint is like an invitation you can't refuse. Why not try something new and off the beaten path?

AN $8.95 GAMBLE REALLY PAYS OFF

The Domaine Bousquet 2003, with its secret juices and cheap cheap price, is an instant winner. I had made a flavourful and zesty gratin dish (rotini with zucchini and mushrooms with veal and pork meatballs) that carried the essence of good Mediterranean cooking; the wine had all trappings of a Roussillon as I suspected it would. The result was per-fection.

After a few sips, the wine brought more than I anticipated to the table. There was savoury quasi-coffee-ness about it. And it's hard not to notice all the wonderful jam-packed fruit shedding its sun-baked 2003 skin. The more I drank the more I remarked on how fruit-forward it was, offering up all kinds of berries.

Blueberry is mentioned in every tasting note I've come across for this wine, and while the rich and ripened pithiness of plump blueberry is definitely there, I also got fresh strawberries, topped with cracked peppercorn. This was not the effect of air opening things up since I chose not to decant and besides, mere minutes had passed since the cork came off. I guess this was a case of a hugely "food-oriented" wine accelerating upon contact with the ideal food pairing.

On the second night the wine was more cherry and more round. This made it more Rhône than Roussillon. In fact, it was reminded me of a very-cherry Valpolicella. This was not a predictable progression -- and because this is a light-to-medium-bodied wine, it was not as endearing as the night before. But then my perfect pasta dish was all gone, so it might've been the pairing that made my second tasting a little less explosive than the first.

For those of you still require convincing, please try it while it peaks now in all its youthful glory! For those of you don't require, stock up, uncork, and drink now!

J. M. Bousquet, Lezignan, France. 12%.

Backwash
Ten days ago, I wrote about how I needed to stock up on some of my favourite Australian Shirazs. When grilling season is at hand, you never know when you will require one and at short notice too.

As it turns out, also 10 days ago, SAQ shops started their Easter sale. It included the Deakin Shiraz out of Victoria, which along with Jacob's Creek, is one of my favourite Shirazs. What timing, what luck!

Lucky, except the SAQ doesn't want to advertise their best-value sale items. They put out a circular that nine times out of ten promotes their bottom-of-the-barrel cuvées that have to be cleared out and instead keep the reduced Deakins and Jacob's Creeks a secret. You won't find it on sale online, you won't see it in their ads, and you definitely won't see it in the listing of sale items in that circular. But all of the sudden on the last day of the sale (which is today, by the way) you'll stumble upon an empty shelf in one of their stores and it will say you can save $2 a bottle on Deakin Shiraz. I don't mind if my wine features a grape composition that's hidden, but what on earth is the point of a hidden sale?

Dear SAQ: Raincheck please!

After putting sun-dried tomato oil, paprika, garlic and chilli peppers into a spicy marinade for grilling chicken and letting it stew with the escalopes in a bowl on the counter, I went off happily to uncork a nice Australian Shiraz. Usually, I have couple on hand in an old wine crate I stow "down under" at the bottom of a dark cupboard.

Lots of New World Cabernet, some Argentinean Malbec and a Coonawarra Cabernet Sauvignon, but no Shiraz to speak of. The Shiraz was exactly what I needed: A dousing yet savoury refreshment to bold barbecue food. The oenologue's equivalent to Coca-Cola in the backyard. Mental note to self: start stocking some Jacob's Creek.

After some hesitation, I selected a substitute, brought it into the kitchen, and opened the bottle hastily. That was a mistake. I forget what it was that I thought would make a good Shiraz stand-in, but it was not happening. I likely put it aside for cooking use or pawned it off to whoever was willing and happened by in the days that followed -- I can't really remember. The point is I was grilling and knew exactly what I wanted in my glass. So I would try yet again to approximate that Shiraz I wanted and so I went off to pick another wine.

A SHIRAZ OF A DIFFERENT TRICOLOUR

I pulled out a Syrah -- France's Shiraz -- blended with Mourvèdre, Grenache and Carignan from Saint-Chinian. This one was stored willy-nilly on top of the refrigerator, in plain sight but often neglected. It was called Donnadieu Cuvée Mathieu et Marie 2004.

The Saint-Chinian appellation possesses AOC status and is nestled in the heart of the Languedoc-Roussillon region. Personally, I feel like I can recognize most Saint-Chinians by their slightly floral perfuminess. It's no Shiraz in that sense -- quite French really -- but it had other attributes that performed well during my impromptu barbecue night.

The nose was elegant and the colour was fine, but the truth to me was in the tasting. So here we have characteristic Syrah/Shiraz savouriness, and in surprisingly complex ways. There was a movement from pepper to fruit on the palate. Not disharmonious but notable nonetheless. Other notes of caramel and menthol introduced themselves too.

On the finish, the fruit was delicious. It was spicy bramble berries punctuated by light tannins. The Cuvée Mathieu et Marie was still juicy -- practically opulent -- for the second night. For that dinner there were no leftovers from the barbecue, but by this point I had pretty much forgotten the whole adventure that lead me to opening this bottle.

Les 4 VENTS, Saint-Chinian, France. 13%.

It's remarkable how the right bottle at the right time can do so much for you. I am not talking about careful cellaring or making wise choices during a flight of wines. I'm talking about the thoughtful gestures of others.

Jacob's Creek Shiraz South Eastern Australia 2004 was not what I was planning to open today, let alone post on. After all in the middle of Portuguese week, what could be stranger than an oaked international varietal?

I woke up this morning and it wasn't long before I knew it would be one of those days. The bus driver told me to get out and walk when I didn't have the exact change. It was about a block to the subway, so his unsavoury show of power only meant the loss of my respect rather than the loss of my time. The smug subway car conductor had something to say about that though. The entire green line was down. I would have to seek out another bus to get to work. The fact that I didn't have a proper transfer allowed for some fleeting but mandatory humiliation, which the driver feasted on like a vulture to carrion. At least this time I was let stay on. Could the inconvenience have been worse for him than me, I wondered.

Showing up for work 45 minutes late, it was clear that my lunchhour would not be spent posting my latest installment to Portuguese week. I would have to make up time. That was the least of my worries though. The office today would be a day of stomach-dropping excitation. The kind of day when you don't realize lunch passed two hours ago because events are rocking your cubicle and making food a nauseating prospect.

And then came Danielle.

Stretching her arm out to hand me a generous expression of gratitude, I suddenly realized that when things you don't plan on start happening, they don't always have to turn into nightmares. Having a surprise visit from a colleague like Danielle certainly helps. And hey, so does the gift of a little vino. I hope you like Shiraz, she said, as I pulled the bottle of the bag. You bet. I have a feeling Danielle must've visited Weingolb before.

Some hours later, there still would be no Portuguese wine posted to the blog, no Portuguese wine opened and on the table. But who cares? The Shiraz was uncorked and decanted, and Gordon was grilling chicken in a skillet. While long grain rice slowly and aromatically steamed in the cooker, florets of broccoli readied themselves for a quick blanching. We were drinking Penfold's Koonunga Hill Chardonnay. Oaked chard and a slice of gruyère on toast -- how many time zones had I crossed to reach this oasis?

And it got even better. In a brilliant manoeuver, Gordon emptied the remaining white wine into the pan to create a mustardy dressing that he poured over the risotto-like rice, flecked with green onions, and the broccoli. Dinner looked stunning, as always. Gordon is such a great cook. Eric joined us and Danielle's Shiraz was poured into glasses...

A beguiling aroma of garrigue, black cherry and bay leaf. It tasted totally unlike the smell though. Baked plum, anise, wood chips and a slightly viscous cola finish. Gordon pointed out the cola and hints of vanilla. Medium to full body, and tremendously smooth. This Shiraz is convincingly textured by well-integrated, well-ripened fruit.

Thanks for the pick-me-up Danielle: Down time should always feel this good.

Today's originally scheduled post, and the start of the second half of Portuguese week, will appear here tomorrow.

Happy Super Bowl Sunday everyone! (Betcha Clotilde has never said that.) As annual festivities wind down, I'm interested in finding out what wines party-goers enjoyed during the Pittsburgh win. I don't have cable (or a satellite), but as a Canadian I got to do the football spectacular thang during the Grey Cup way back in November 05. It was well-documented. Some Canuck wine bloggers, including myself and Tim at The Crush, put the party wine on the line, i.e., What to uncork for that momentous event (see The Crush's Sixpack of 2005 Grey Cup Tasting Notes or Weingolb's Go too deep and you may fumble). Now I ask what might've made the Seahawks loss go down better a little better? Que Syrah... Syrah. And what was the elixir that put the cap on victorious Steelers fans, a fifth title, and the all the hope for next season? Que Shiraz, Shiraz!

Pictured above is one of the bottles that footballers might have favoured during the game. It is yet another good-value-for-the-money Syrah/Shiraz and one I would suggest adding to the "Super Bowl Sixpack" of wines for next year. (Affordable wine is a must during sporting extravangas, for obvious reasons.) This particular Syrah, Abbotts Cumulus Minervois 2000, is an especially big one: built like a Steeltown linebacker, basically as big as they come. Hence its current drinkability. I would hazard that this Minervois would still be plenty drinkable for 2007's Super Bowl XLI in South Florida.

Well, let's see... Nope, there's nothing South Florida about Minervois, which come from the Languedoc-Roussillon region of Southern France. The Cumulus is deep garnet to purple in colour with a little faded brick around the edges. The bouquet is astounding: chocolately-cocoa bean and just full of black fruits. On the palate, there are nice hints of licorice. Like the Deakin Estate Shiraz or a Goats do Roam in Villages, which are other Syrah variations, the essentials of fruit and spice are very much present.

This Cumulus is not a wine that develops much by decanting, but that's probably because it was already at its peak when I opened it. In terms of a rewarding pairing, I would offer barbecued or roasted dinners: bell peppers baked in the oven with carrots and parsnips; sirloin grilling steak, flash-fried on a grill pan, or in milder weather, on the barbie out back. A word of warning: I would avoid pepper steaks since this type of wine has some heat, and adding to it will amplify mouthfeel at the expense of fruit flavours. It's almost like a Madiran in that way. As a result, Mediterranean cooking, with its spotlight on ripe and savoury vegetables, is always a safe bet. For an entirely vegetarian alternative to pair with a lusty Minervois such as this, I suggest a pasta parmesana dish that is built around grilled zucchini.

Slice zucchinis lengthwise into strips that are about 1/4-inch thick. Toss them with olive oil and drop them on a smoking hot grill pan or other heavy-bottomed skillet. It's hard to screw this up because any kind of searing here is going to render flavours that are rich, sweet and tender -- zucchini at its best. If you think the slices in the pan are browning too much, you can tell it's time to flip them over when the top side glistens and gets a little translucent. Wait another couple minutes after flipping and then remove from heat. Cut the zucchini into straw-shaped ribbons if desired and throw them into your cooked pasta sprinkled with freshly grated parmesan. Add some other herbs if you feel like it but it's basically good to go with little fuss. Not only is the dish a rich and flavourful counterpart to the hot wines that so many mistakenly pair with peppery food, it is also the base of a great summer salad. So who's ready for a new season?

Montpellier, France. 13%.

Here's a drink-now screw-the-decanter wine to be celebrated. The Deakin Estate Shiraz 2002 is likeable from the very first sip. It has big ripened flavours, tantalizing spice and some complexity. It was practically effervescent when I uncorked it with bread and cheese. Oak is present, but not so much that it would put off those who have a problem with oaked wines. In the end, it's perhaps best described as a party wine. I would open this during the Super Bowl and enjoy it with southwest fried chicken, all-beef hot dogs, baked beans or a napa cabbage salad with anchovy dressing. You could have it with virtually anything. Anchored by a tannic punch, the jamminess is reined in. The result: a well-balanced wine at an affordable price.

But like the hardest party-goer, Deakin loses its verve if you park it on the sofa for too long. Of all the wines that I have sampled in the last few months, I suspect this one gains the least from exposure to air -- not that you are going to see it turn to vinegar. Strong plum and cassis fruits seem to amplify with prolonged air contact. They just get rounder and rounder. Meanwhile the tannins are left to pick up the slack of faint acidity in order to create any sort of backbone and the wine begins its clear descent. What was lively and potent one night is flabby and flat the day after, even if you reseal the leftovers in a snug half-bottle. This is not a wine to hold onto for too long. Right now, 2002 could be considered to be a vintage on the edge for Down Under Shiraz varietals. A lot of 2005's are already on the market and this is a grape that does not have a lot of aging potential. On top of that, Australian wines in this price range are not known to be full of finesse and you can be reminded of this if you try to fancy up this staunch Shiraz too much. So no aeration, no decanting, or filtering, or letting it out to breathe. Open it at a barbecue and let it flow till the bottle's dry. Or, with any luck, about 20 minutes.

Kulkyne Way Via Red Cliffs, Victoria, Australia. 14.5%.

I can see why Syrah might be a candidate for world's most popular wine grape variety: The bridger of people and binder of dinner parties rarely comes up short on body, a key attribute of what makes us remark on a wine. It also can possess a nice roasted flavour occupying a middleground between savoury and fruity. That's not going to give it many enemies, though the Syrah of Australia (known as Shiraz) often produces highly jammy and alcoholic bottles that critics label "over the top".

The Syrah of Domaine de Petit Roubié Vin de Pays de l'Hérault 2003 exhibits all the great attributes mentioned above, plus it lives down any bad "Shiraz" reputation with its great finesse. That it has a deft touch is particularly astounding for any 2003 cuvée from the Midi, which was more than sundrenched that year and overcooked many vines. In bakingly hot conditions, the sugar in ripening grapes can reach a point of rampant fermentation and raise levels of alcohol. This bottle is a odd specimen since it is several percentage points below the norm (only 12.5%). For what ever reason, this vin de pays is not gunning for your meatiest backyard barbecue. You can very much sip it on its own. I was a bit surprised by this. I had prepared a hearty meal with big flavours to match it: Pork tenderloin in a luscious sweet and sour "charcuterie" sauce of pickled gerkins and sundried tomatoes. I added sautéed Brussels spouts with herbes de Provence and roasted parsnips and garlic -- there was no way even the biggest Syrah was going to overpower my dinner. On the second night, I toned down the flavours a bit. A mild saucisson on a Tourte Parmentière from Première Moisson topped by spinach wilted in lemon oil created a delicious match. I may have noticed the tannins a bit more, but the structure still came through and gave the wine a smooth and fairly long finish.

Les Domaines de Petit Roubié, Pinet, France. 12.5%. Certified organic wine.