If Syrah was once a quiet contender on the NZ wine stage, it can now be considered a rising star. Hailed as one of our most exciting red varieties in terms of quality, aging potential and international recognition, Syrah is carving out a distinctive niche, particularly in Hawkes Bay and also on Auckland’s Waiheke Island. Tina Gellie wrote for Decanter in August 2018 that “New Zealand Syrahs are consistently high in quality…capable of offering excellent value compared to the Rhone” with MW Philip Tuck adding “Gimblett Gravels is probably the best site [for Syrah] outside France”.

“I know what I like” is one of the most common refrains from someone reluctant to try an unfamiliar wine. On one level it makes sense – why risk paying for something that might disappoint when familiar favourites are readily available. But on a deeper level it limits our experience and denies us new pleasures. It is not so much that “we know what we like”, rather as my good friend Graeme always says, “we like what we know”.

“In 1995, Sustainable Winegrowing New Zealand (SWNZ) quietly emerged as the world’s first national sustainability programme for wine”, wrote Emma Jenkins MW for the July 3, 2025 edition of Decanter. From this world first, the New Zealand wine industry has maintained and developed its record of environmental stewardship. SWNZ is an evidence-based, globally recognised benchmark for measurable progress in sustainable viticulture and includes requirements covering people in the industry, soil, greenhouse gas emissions, water and biosecurity. New Zealand remains the only country in the world to have a unified member programme.

I wasn’t always a wine lover. In fact, it was only in my later years that I truly became fascinated by the thrills and mysteries of this wonderful drink. Sadly, the ignition of real passion came too late for me to enjoy the best years for purchasing Bordeaux and Burgundy. Fortunately, sublime as those missed drinking pleasures may be, the world of wine offers endlessly new and exciting discoveries.

I belong to a FB Group called Rhone Wine Lovers. I follow the posts with keen interest, and occasionally even a little jealousy - some members are regularly drinking wines I could at best aspire to only for special occasions – and then, only if I could find them!

ust a couple of days ago, 24th of July to be exact, was International Shiraz Day. It’s perhaps not immediately clear why this should be so when we have International Syrah Day on February 16th. Shiraz is the Australian name for Syrah, a bold and flavourful red wine grape noted for its rich fruit and spice aromas and flavours, which does well both in warmer and cooler climates. The Syrah grape, a cross between Red Dureza from the Ardeche region of France and Mondeuse Blance an old Savoie variety became established in the Northern Rhone from Roman times. Cuttings were taken to Australia by James Busby, probably from Montpellier in 1832. The Busby collection had handwritten labels which said Scyras and Ciras which somehow became transliterated to Shiraz, and possibly associated with the Persian city of the same name, which did actually have wines called Shiraz, although these were almost certainly not made from Syrah.

Wine produced from Nerello Mascalese has intrigued and delighted me since my first visit to the Etna region of Sicily in 2015 where I was privileged to be hosted by a local family.

Whole bunch fermentation is part of the original winemaking process. Crusher-destemmers are a 20th century invention. Prior to their arrival almost all red wines were fermented in whole bunches with their stalks intact, that is, both the main stalk structure of a bunch known as the rachis plus the little bits that attach the berries known as pedicels. Together these stalk components make up between 2% and 5% of the bunch weight and can vary in ripeness and colour from green (unripe) to brown (ripe). In the past, wines made with whole bunches were often rustic and tannic – usually because the stems were green or unripe, but also because an associated reduction in wine acidity increased susceptibility to Brettanomyces.

Last month I achieved a long-held ambition to visit that most famous of German wine regions, the Mosel, specifically the sub-region known as Mittelmosel. Centred on Bernkastel-Kues and stretching from Schleich to Pünderich, the region boasts stunning beauty and dizzyingly steep slate slopes – up to almost 80 degrees, appearing near-vertical. The best of these slopes face south, with the vines held as if by a toaster to the sun and close to the river. The southerly aspect and reflection of light from the river ensure that the Riesling grapes ripen. The slate rock of the slopes is both heat retaining and reflecting, further contributing to ripeness whilst also delivering a distinct “wet-stone” minerality to wines offering an extraordinary and often linear purity.

If you are wondering what on earth I am talking about, I’m not surprised. Just a few weeks ago one of my online contacts mentioned she was studying for her WSET Level 4 Diploma and I asked what her research topic was. “PiWi varieties” she replied, and having no idea what PiWi varieties were, I did some quick research.

I first tasted the Murrieta wines on the occasion of the 170th anniversary release of a special library release: a vertical of six of the Reserva wines from 2012-2017, along with the flagship Gran Reserva Ygay and the 2018 Reserva release. This was in late 2022 or early 2023. I was so impressed I purchased the box set 2012-17 vertical along with a few bottles of the 2018 with the intention of revisiting them in a couple of years.