Searching for the Best Barossa Grenache
In Australia, the spotlight is often swung to McLaren Vale when the Grenache renaissance is discussed, but the revolution is no less vibrant in the Barossa. So much so that a Deep Dive was in order.
We gathered every example of Australian blends of pinot noir and shiraz – whether or not both varieties are named on the label – that we could find and set our expert panel the task of finding the wines that compelled the most. All wines were tasted blind, and each panellist named their top six wines. Below are the wines that made the panellists’ top-six selections from the tasting.
Our panel: Sam Baxter, sommelier, Geralds Bar; Isabella Greco, sommelier; Robert Aiken, wine merchant, Dan Murphy’s; Michelle Brice, bar manager and sommelier, Bar Thyme; Noah Ward, wine communicator, Bottle Shock; Jenny Polack, wine educator, Bacchus Academy.

Baxter and Ward included this wine in their top six picks from the blind tasting. Baxter described “this is for me the quintessential definition of a serious pinot/shiraz blend done right. An inky garnet hue swirls around the glass, unleashing ripe blueberry and black currant, spring black berries, both freshly foraged and semi-dried. The palate is rich, lush and warming, filled with dark brooding black fruits – blood plum, blackcurrant, mulberry, blackberry and Christmas cherry. The tannins are soft, velvety and finely integrated, easing the tongue and finishing long and strong. This is a wine that invites you to the roaring fire, with some nice blue or hard cheese, or maybe some lamb, sit, imbibe and enjoy.” Ward noted “a bit of quiet power here, aromatically, but wowee on the palate. Good kalamata olive, smoked pork, some prunes and dried fruit, but it’s still fresh enough. Oak is here and letting us know about it, but backed up by some ripping black olive, dark blackberry, chocolate, and a really deep plum finish. Bit of a showstopper. Very flashy. I dig it. Impress-your-friends juice – old-school cool.”

Polack and Baxter selected this wine among their top six wines on the day. Polack described “this wine is just delightful drinking! Quite rich fruit in the middle of the palate, including blackberries, black and red plums, red cherries and light dried herbs. Not the most complex wine – but super gluggable, with its soft tannins and medium acidity wrapped around the rich middle-palate fruit. Perfect for a sunny Sunday afternoon in the park with a barbecue.” Baxter noted “this is the definition of a layered wine. The first swirl of the dark ruby hued glass reveals blueberry, cassis, and Teagan blue plums. The second swirl unfurls fresh Virginian navy tobacco, and dried black currants. The third swirl explodes with smoked vanilla, cedar, and blackberries. The palate is like biting into an elephant heart plum. It is juicy, full, dark blue-fruit laden, defined by lilac phenolics and fine pithy tannins and an integrated, warming finish. This is a wine for those who love malbec, or those richer GSMs, who are wanting something a little bit different.”

Brice and Aitken chose this wine for their top six wines from the tasting. Brice described “one of the most overtly fruity aromatic profiles in this line-up, overflowing with raspberry and backed up with rosehip and lemon verbena. Richer fruit notes of juicy blood plums, black cherries and loganberries linger on the palate. It’s light, tight, and fresh – not plush, but lightly silky in texture, with very soft chalky tannins and a hint of stemmy phenolic bitterness that emerges on the finish. It’s a wine of delicious flavour intensity, with an impressively seamless structure that flows elegantly.” Aitken noted “this wine is a mouth-watering, vibrant and joyful number that hits you with high-definition red plums and mulberries on the nose. It’s got a bright, energetic ping to the acidity that makes it feel incredibly fun and fresh, while the silky tannins keep the whole experience feeling polished. This would be an absolute ripper of a bistro wine – it’s not taking itself too seriously, which is great, but it doesn’t leave you unsatisfied, either.”

Greco and Ward selected this wine among their top six wines of the day. Greco described “all right, all right, all right – the colour! The colour alone got me hooked. It is deep purple and shimmering, somewhere between dark red and the colour of amaranth flowers. On the nose I got this lush wave of blackberry and raspberry jam. It softens into field flowers and violet, which gives the wine panache. On the palate the tannins are fine and well-structured, as if they know their good manners. The medium acidity lifts everything up, keeping it fresh and vibrant. You could absolutely have this wine for a great pizza night or alongside fine charcuterie – speck, capocollo, brie, fontina … vibrant and flirty, this bottle will be gone by the time everyone has introduced themselves.” Ward noted “rather vibrant colour and aroma. Carbonic is very likely here. Showing that black olive stemmy character of syrah, but with a brisk energy. Ribena, black cherry. What a beautiful palate-weight here, though. Juicy, jubey. Blackcurrant lolly, black pepper, almost a shiso leaf intrigue. I really quite like this. Pinot is really driving drinkability.”

This wine appeared in the top six wines from the blind tasting for Brice, Greco, and Baxter. Brice described “this wine opens with aromas of new oak – vanilla, rum and butterscotch – but they slowly fold into place with the underlying fruit notes of black cherries, blackberries, and blood plum to creating a nose reminiscent of pedro ximénez sherry and mace. On the palate, some salty minerality cuts through the richness. There’s an interesting contrast between nose and palate here – and an oak presence that’s been thoughtfully tamed.” Greco noted “this wine had me smiling while pouring it, as if I was watching a little magic show. On the nose it’s lively, showing ripe and juicy fruit notes of mulberry, blackberry and blackcurrant. It just feels really joyful. It has a certain brightness and freshness that keeps through the palate, which balances the lush, indulgent and fruity character. It’s not a super-serious wine, but it won me over completely – and the fact that I could not stop smiling might honestly be the best tasting note.” Baxter found “pull out your Blink-182 shirts, teen angst, black hair dye and guy-scara – because here’s a broody naughties or just plan naughty boy. The palate is a Marilyn Manson poster – dark and angular, with tough gritty oak, granitic tannins and a powerful intensity. A wine for nostalgic times and current good days.”

Ward and Brice selected this wine among their top six wines of the day. Ward described “ooh – I really like this! Perfectly ripe red plum, with some lovely raspberry hits, a little bacon fat. Smoky, pretty – such an enticing drink. Perfectly medium-bodied. While it’s oh so firm and structured, there’s such a great presence of fruit underneath – mulberry, blueberry bramble. Almost neither in the pinot nor the syrah camp – just its own thing, and all the better for it. Not super intense wine, but while it’s there, it’s partying. Got a decent life ahead of it. How good.” Brice noted “this wine opens with fresh green aromas of tarragon, yet-to-bloom rose bush, and caperberries in their brine. Red fruits emerge on the palate – loganberry, Christmas cherries, and red plums – given complexity by verdant aromatic notes of fresh rosemary and charred jalapeño. Despite the green character of the spice notes, the wine has a seductive amount of fruit weight and plushness, with medium acidity and easygoing, fine yet firm tannins. I can imagine this becoming an absolute favourite alongside some barbecued lamb and a Greek salad.”

Polack and Ward included this wine in their top six from the blind tasting. Polack described “the wonderful richness of this wine – yet the lightness in its body – is really attractive. It has lovely perfumed notes of spice and violets, along with fresh raspberries and cherries on the palate that hang around for ages. It shows beautifully balanced acidity, light, fine-grained tannins, and a long finish. Lovely drinking now, but also clearly has what it takes to age gracefully. A beautiful example of what a pinot noir/shiraz blend can be – the lightness of pinot noir, married to the flavours and structure of shiraz.” Ward noted “beautiful Syrah leading aromatics of blueberry cobbler and black olive, with raspberry liquorice undertones. Blackberry. Such an immediately moreish drink. Black cherry, allspice, sultana. Tannin is present but not intrusive. A touch above medium bodied, but still effortlessly drinkable. Slightly medicinal in a good way. Lightening up syrah with pinot is the style here, not the inverse. A great example of this style, but still with charm.”

Brice chose this wine for her top six wines of the tasting, describing “the bright and savoury nature of this wine felt very refreshing in a line-up dominated by red-toned fruit bombs. An intensely herbaceous and pyrazine-driven nose – celery stalk and leaf, green capsicum, freshly mown grass, and tomato leaf. The aroma actually reminded me of soffritto frying in the kitchen – that savoury and vegetal smell that fills up the kitchen and gets everyone salivating far too long before the meal is ready. Unsurprisingly, it tastes distinctly savoury, too, showing notes of tomatillo, sweet cherry tomatoes, yellow plums on the palate. Its medium body is kept aloft by a bright and linear, almost piercing, acidity and framed by the faintest hint of quite firm tannins. A pleasingly complex touch of bitterness frames the finish. It’s a gastronomic wine, but also surprisingly easy-drinking – try to save some for when dinner finally arrives, or make sure you have a second bottle to hand if you open one while the soffritto’s still cooking!”
Aitken selected this wine among his top six picks from the tasting, noting “an alluring, sophisticated nose leads into a palate that is the definition of ‘moreish’. It captures the black olive tapenade and cracked pepper savouriness of shiraz, while keeping pinot’s fruit profile of bright, aromatic maraschino cherries. It feels like a very clever expression of this classic Australian blend – layered and complex, yet totally unpretentious. It’s got some good years ahead of it, too, with well-constructed tannins and a vibrant acid line driving through it. This is the ultimate high-end barbecue wine – it’s got enough weight to stand up to a rare steak, but enough elegance to keep things fresh and flowing.”

Greco chose this wine for her top six wines on the day, describing “this wine has an attractive and pleasing personality. It opens with a beautiful and delicate lift of fresh strawberry, followed by just a hint – a whisper, even – of delicate florals such as rose and violet. The nose is aromatic, clean and confident. The palate is elegant, light and smooth – on the forefront there are bright, fragrant notes of fresh and juicy wild strawberry, raspberry, and cranberry. Fine, fresh acidity and dusty, perfectly placed tannins make this a wine full of charm – one that leans more towards gentleness rather than a strong, heavy structure. An amiable, inviting and loveable wine that I would pair with a fish soup, a simple grilled fish dish, or even just a bowl of tortellini.”

Baxter and Greco selected this wine among their top six wines from the tasting. Baxter described “one for the Barossa boys and girls. Inky purple in the glass, with a nose of Damson and blood plums, intertwined with blackberry, boysenberry, violets, lilacs, black pepper, coffee grounds, and fresh pouch tobacco. The palate is full and plush, full of Damson plum and boysenberry, framed by pressed violet phenolics and a pithy plum tannin structure. This wine calls for rustic barbecue meats – Argentinian steaks with chimichurri, or a proper snag. It’s juicy, fruit-driven – and a match for any big-boy South Australian wine.” Greco noted “this is not a quiet and subtle wine – in a good way. The colour is deep, intense red, gliding into purple. The nose I found very intriguing – there’s a flicker of fire, like the perfume of embers just quietly burning. It made me think of a winery – the smell of the cellar and fermenting fruit, a little chaos but a lot of character. The tannins are dry, textured and really present. It comes in strong, bold right from the first sip, and then it settles into a more balanced mid-palate composure. This is a wine that I would pair with something salty and rich – pancetta, broad beans and hard pecorino.”

Polack and Baxter included this wine in their top six picks from the blind tasting. Polack described “I love both the roundness of this wine and its integration of fruit and structural elements. The nose shows a mix of fresh and cooked red cherries, raspberries and redcurrants with a touch of a peaty character giving a little complexity. Light tannins paired with a medium acidity make this wine very drinkable. This would be great with your favourite moussaka – vegetarian or meat!” Baxter noted “this wine is the definition of balance and expression. Dark ruby in colour, the nose delivers an aromatic punch of black pepper, dried and fresh Damson plum, blackberry, cigar box, freshly lit cigar, lilac, pressed lavender, freshly turned topsoil, and fallen autumn leaves. The palate is like a crunchy Damson plum – pithy and crunchy, textured with fine-grained oak tannins and a stalky finish. A wine for cigar lovers, charcuterie-board indulgers, and smoked meat aficionados.”

Aitken chose this wine for his top six wines on the day, noting “there is a lovely crunch to this wine that makes it feel dangerously drinkable. It balances bright Bing cherry and stewed pomegranates with a spicy, earthy edge – reminiscent of freshly-turned soil and dried ginger – that stops it from being too simple. It’s delicate on the palate and perfectly silky, leading into a delicious, effortless finish. It’s a modern take that screams for a wood-fired pizza – but one with plenty of interest layered into it, too.”

Greco selected this wine among her top six wines from the blind tasting, describing “this one is a bit cheeky. The soft orange hues initially made me think that the wine had seen some time – but it doesn’t taste like an aged wine. The nose is quite shy at first, opening with a faint, almost nostalgic note of dried roses, like opening an old book and finding a pressed flower inside. Then it explodes: strawberry-lemon marmalade, with that sweetness that makes you feel cozy. After a few more swirls it gets more playful: biscotti with butter and strawberry jam – not a sweet wine, more like a reminiscence or an echo of a dessert, generous without going overboard. It finishes with a subtle, elegant touch of black pepper that reminds you that shiraz is present. It’s charming, mischievous and fun. This will surely pair well with beef, lamb or even some grilled vegetables – but I would go a bit further and drink it with a delicious braised rabbit.”

Ward included this wine in his top six selections, noting “all the cherries! Blackcurrant, dark blueberries, and black cherry yoghurt on the nose. Nice use of whole-bunch. Oh, what a beautiful palate weight here, all dark-fruited. Lovely oak use – good French oak, the newness of which sticks out, but is acceptably spicy. Time will do this good. Tannins are present, but they’re kept in check. Medium weight. Medium acid. Love this wine – yumbo!”

Aitken chose this wine for his top six wines of the day, describing “this is a shape-shifter that kept me coming back to the glass. It opens with savoury bay leaf and baking spices, moving into sweet-fruited cherry pie and macerated strawberries, with a hint of vanilla. It’s beautifully layered with a finish that just keeps going. It’s sort of a nostalgic wine for me, evoking memories of Sunday roasts at family tables – it feels seasoned, confident, and deeply comforting.”

Polack and Greco selected this wine among their top six wines from the blind tasting. Polack described “the palate of this wine is like eating a bowl of fresh red cherries! Very aromatic, with pine needles and red plums jumping out of the glass. Quite light-bodied, with some lighter, fine-grained tannins giving the wine structure and ensuring that the flavours stay on the palate for ages. Get out your most interesting charcuterie platter for this wine.” Greco noted “on first encounter this wine exudes sense of depth and character, like it has something to tell you. On the nose there are beautiful florals – violets and wild flowers, faint orange zest – and an incredible spice outline that knits through the aromatics with notes of white pepper, really gentle nutmeg and clove. It has a meaty richness, almost like cured meats, that displays a substantial feel. It feels and tastes layered on the palate. It’s bold without being heavy, expressive without being overbearing and self conscious. Quite satisfying. I would pair this with a serve of Murray cod pan-seared in butter, or ravioli with butter and sage, or polenta served with a rich, meaty sauce.”

Baxter chose this wine for his top six picks, noting “this wine beautifully showcases the purity that pinot noir/shiraz blends can achieve. The nose bursts with crunchy red cherries, redcurrants, blueberry pith, rose petals and rose stalks, edged by vanilla tobacco and earthy notes of forest sand. The palate is bright, crunchy and floral – like biting into a fresh red cherry – with a taut acidity and a vibrant red fruit character that directly transmits the flavours inherent in the complex nose. The tannins are stalky and herbaceous, and finish long. This is a perfect chameleon wine for all occasions – whether you’re making a little Greek food, cooking some damn good game bird, or just hanging with a few good mates and some snags in the sunshine, it’s a great all-rounder.”

Brice included this wine in her top six wines on the day, describing “another oak-forward example, opening with a nose of pimento and red cherries that deepens into blackberry, black plum, and cherry conserve. Vibrant, almost candied, floral notes of violet – think Parma Violets, or crème de violette before it’s mixed into an Aviation cocktail – provide some floral lift. Without those florals, you’d be hard-pressed not to assume this is a straight shiraz – but it smells like a very nice shiraz indeed. It’s juicy and generous on the palate, with zesty acidity and some super-fine tannins offering structure to the decadent richness of the fruit. The vanilla marshmallow sweetness of the new oak here, alongside that zesty acidity, make this wine feel a little like a perfectly balanced lemon custard tart – one topped with generous portions of mixed-berry compote. This would be a great winter wine for anyone who likes those richer fruit flavours, but is after something less imposing than Australia’s traditional big, tannic reds.”

Brice selected this wine among her top six wines from the tasting, noting “the nose immediately gives off fresh redcurrant fruit, backed with some earthy bramble leaf and a bit of forest floor. The palate is light and delicate, yet decidedly savoury, showing notes of tomatillo, cranberry, and pomegranate overlaid with wisps of campfire smoke and hints of tomato leaf. The acidity is lovely and soft, yet vibrant, reminiscent of a raspberry coulis. It finishes with earthy, slightly bitter notes and light, powdery tannins that help extend the finish. I love how this seems so fresh and bright at first, but is deepened by an earthiness that helps give shape to a wine that would otherwise lack structure. It would pair perfectly with a turkey on rye sandwich – a picnic wine, to be sure, but an elegant one.”

Aitken chose this wine for his top six selections from the blind tasting, describing “this is an after-hours version of the pinot/shiraz blend. It’s dark, slightly mysterious, and leans into a gritty, earthy profile. It’s got a distinct, funky edge – autumnal, or like certain cru Beaujolais – balanced with tingly spice and medium weight fruit, showing black plums and hints of red liquorice. What really makes this compelling is the structure – those furry tannins act like a frame to the wine, holding everything in place perfectly. It feels like a wine for a dimly-lit bistro or candle-lit wine bar.”

Polack included this wine in her top six wines of the day, describing “this wine is arguably the most savoury of all the wines in the line-up, initially showing dried herbs, bacon, and gravy notes on the nose. As it opens up with some oxygen, these lift off to show fruitier notes of cherry jam, boysenberry and plum underneath. Soft acidity and soft tannins make this wine very drinkable. Quite a different style – more old-school European in character. It strikes me as potentially polarising – but for those who like this style, try cellaring it for about five years, or decanting well in advance if drinking it now. Would work well with lamb shanks or a vegetarian cassoulet.”

Ward selected this wine among his top six picks from the tasting, noting “looking great! Showing that bacon-fat, peppery shiraz thing, but still got some lovely vibrant, fresh red fruit, almost verging on purple – super-juicy black cherries and blackcurrants. Violets here, too, which is awesome. Some alpine herbs. Wonderfully balanced. Very Hunter Valley in feel. I rather enjoy this. Oak is utilised well. Drink-me-now tannins. A pretty versatile food wine – but one that would not be out of place at any kind of barbecue.”

Aitken chose this wine for his top six wines on the day, describing “an incredibly lifted and aromatic example of a pinot/shiraz blend that clearly lets the shiraz take the lead in the best way possible. It’s bursting with a basket of forest berries – think fresh blueberries and smashed blackberries – shot through with cracks of black pepper and a cooling menthol lift. The mid-palate is pure silk, transitioning into a spicy, energetic finish that makes you want to immediately go back for a second sip. The kind of wine that’s best enjoyed with friends and good tunes.”

Polack included this wine in her top six wines from the blind tasting, describing “another example of a savoury, rather than fruit-driven, wine. In this case, the savouriness may be due to a little bit more bottle age – the wine is starting to show some hints of garnet in its colour. It shows notes of black plums and dried plums, with savoury overtones of olive tapenade, tar, and freshly-turned earth. The medium weight, soft tannins, and acidity gives it all a very approachable character, and a warm and intriguing note of dried apricots and osmanthus flower on the finish adds complexity. Don’t be afraid to swirl this in the glass a bit to tame its inherent savouriness – then match it with some Asian flavours, such as a duck san choy bow.”
Pinot noir and shiraz – or syrah, as the French call it – are each synonymous with the French wine regions of Burgundy and the Northern Rhône, respectively. While pinot noir is grown very successfully further north in Champagne and Alsace, and syrah is grown in the Southern Rhône and elsewhere along the Mediterranean coast, those two regions are considered the pinnacle locations for each variety. And they’re not that far apart, geographically, – only roughly eighty-seven kilometres (as the crow flies) separates the village of Mâcon, at the southern edge of Burgundy, from Vienne, at the northernmost point of the Northern Rhône, with the Beaujolais wine region, the spiritual home of gamay, sandwiched in between.
Until recently, these two varieties were seen to be exclusively individual cultivars – products of different genetic lineages. It seems, though, that they have a closer relationship than that, with the preeminent grape geneticist Dr José Vouillamoz’s research pointing to pinot as being a likely ‘great-grandparent’ of syrah. Genetic links notwithstanding, an experienced taster is unlikely to confuse the two, even though specific examples – shiraz at its most fragrant and pinot noir at its most brooding – can come close to the middle ground. In broad brushstrokes, pinot will tend to be more fragrant and perfumed, with red fruits predominating, while shiraz will tend to darker fruits, with more robust spice notes, a fuller body, and more tannic grip. But aiming for that middle ground is where blending starts to make some sense. Blending like with like increases volume, but not necessarily interest – whereas carefully blending a mixture of the complementary and the contrasting starts to build layers, character, and detail. It can be a tricky business, but Australian winemakers are blessed in the endeavour by being able to draw inspiration from one of the wine world’s all-time greatest, our own Maurice O’Shea.
The average current-day French wine lover, having cut their teeth on the strict laws of the Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée (AOC) system, would be mortified at the idea of blending the Northern Rhône’s hero red variety with the pride of Burgundy. But despite the image of authority and tradition that French wine regions project – backed up by stories of monks mapping vineyards in the middle ages, or of Avignonnais Popes discovering the vinous delights of the countryside around their newly built summer retreat – the reality is that the current system of strict appellation laws is an invention of the twentieth century. Prior to this time, the names of wine regions were used to designate both geographical origins and wine styles – often with a little creativity thrown in. In the case of pinot noir and shiraz, it was an open secret that many of the Rhône’s red wines were purchased by négociant firms as vins de médecines – literally ‘medicinal wines’ – to add a little body and heft to more anaemic reds from Burgundy and Bordeaux. It was not until the 1920s and ’30s, in response to the crisis brought about by phylloxera – and a burgeoning Algerian wine industry that could call its wines ‘French’ on the British market as the country was, at the time, a French colony – that the current AOC system of rules and regulations was developed under the pretext of battling ‘wine fraud’, which in turn entailed its own winners and losers. Négociants who wanted to stiffen their sub-par Gevrey-Chambertin with a little splash of Hermitage were not the only ones who suffered – Algeria’s wine industry, which was once the world’s most productive in terms of sheer volume, is now so marginal on a global scale as to be a footnote.
At the same time as a crisis-ridden France was developing its AOC system, Australia’s own wine industry was slogging through its own unique doldrums. Thanks to changed global tastes and targeted tax breaks, fortified wine was king, representing four bottles out of every five produced in Australia until well into the 1950s. Previously flourishing cool-climate wine regions such as the Yarra Valley, Mornington Peninsula, Tasmania, the Adelaide Hills and Geelong were, for all intents and purposes, closed for business. Into this grim landscape came a young Maurice O’Shea. Born in North Sydney in 1897 to an Irish wine and spirit merchant father and a French mother, O’Shea had finished his schooling in France, then went on to train as as viticulturist and analytical chemist at the Université de Montpellier. He had started to teach at Montpellier, with a job offer in the United States on the cards, before he was called back to Australia in 1920 at his mother’s request. By 1921 O’Shea had purchased an existing vineyard in Pokolbin and set up his winery there, naming the operation Mount Pleasant.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had an O’Shea wine that wasn’t full of interest, full of flavour, full of line and length – Maurice did make some ordinary wines, but you never saw them.”
The name is somewhat ironic, given the difficulties that O’Shea faced in the venture. There was not much of a market for Australian table wines at the time, and the winery’s conditions were primitive at best – with no electricity and all winemaking operations performed via backbreaking manual labour. The variable climate of the Hunter saw the vineyard’s grapes clobbered by hail every second year between 1927 and 1939. And between the economic deprivations of the Great Depression and the requisitioning of materials for Australia’s World War II efforts, the necessaries for a functioning winery were not always available – the 1941 vintage of Mount Pleasant had to be placed in repurposed bottles, including ones that had formerly housed methylated spirits. Despite these difficulties – which forced him to sell the business to the much larger McWilliam’s company in two tranches (first in 1932, then in 1941), although he remained on as head winemaker until his death – he persevered, and in so doing changed Australian wine history. He was both a visionary and remarkably tenacious, using white grapes to achieve the weight and aromatic profile that he desired in his reds – fermenting red grapes on white skins and sometimes vice versa – and a masterful blender of his own wines and those of other Hunter grower-producers. The late Len Evans, arguably Australia’s most influential wine communicator, says in Campbell Mattinson’s book The Wine Hunter, “I don’t think I’ve ever had an O’Shea wine that wasn’t full of interest, full of flavour, full of line and length – Maurice did make some ordinary wines, but you never saw them.” Another legendary Hunter vigneron, the late Max Lake, put it more succinctly: “O’Shea did things in impossible conditions, and none of it has since been surpassed.”
Mount Pleasant, now owned by McWilliams, claims to have Australia’s oldest vineyard dedicated to pinot noir – down to two rows now, planted in 1921 by O’Shea himself – which is the source of one of this country’s most revered clones of pinot: MV6, short for ‘mothervine six’. The Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research Organisation (CSIRO) saw the unique genetic value of these vines in the late 1960s and early ’70s, and began propagating cuttings from the vineyard to supply to Australian grape growers who were keen to plant what was then a relatively rare variety. Those Mount Pleasant vines, in turn, purportedly trace their lineage to a cutting sourced from the Grand Cru Burgundy vineyard Clos de Vougeot and brought to Australia by James Busby in the 1830s as part of his famous collection. While it is now supplemented by a host of more recently imported ‘Dijon clones’, MV6 remains the engine of Australian pinot noir production, and is especially prevalent in Victorian vineyards. Many may be surprised to learn that the warm and humid – almost subtropical – Hunter Valley is the cradle of Australian pinot noir as we know it, but it is.
In the 1940s, pinot took an emphatic place in O’Shea’s famous ‘Light Dry Reds’ – reds of medium weight, often with a savoury, earthy fragrance – the most iconic of which was Mount Pleasant’s blend of shiraz and pinot named named ‘Mount Henry’. There is no actual Mount Henry – rather, the name is an homage to O’Shea’s friend and an ardent supporter of his wines, restaurateur Henri Renault, chef and owner of l’Hermitage in Sydney. While we think of pinot noir being the lighter and less structured of the two varieties, it is an earlier ripener, so it has the opportunity to reach both flavour and tannin maturity more readily than shiraz. Additionally, MV6 is one of the more robustly fruited clones of pinot, with a strong tannic line, which the Hunter’s unique viticultural conditions helps to emphasise. (Needless to say, a Hunter pinot looks nothing like a Mornington pinot.) So Hunter pinot can contribute structure and depth of flavour rather than diluting either attribute – and in the case of O’Shea’s ‘Mount Henry’, is said to have actually bolstered the shiraz in cooler years.
O’Shea was not the only Hunter winemaker to play with the style. Early in his career, long-serving Lindemans winemaker Karl Stockhausen was responsible for making two of the company’s most famous red wines, the legendary ‘Hunter River Burgundy’ pair of ‘Bin 3100’ and ‘Bin 3110’. Both of these wines were from the 1965 vintage, and harvested significantly later than normal. It was known that pinot noir was blended into one of the two wines, though not which or how much. Over the years, this presence of pinot took on mythical proportions. In reality, a small pinot plot was blended into the ‘Bin 3100’, and only accounted for 0.5% of the wine – hardly a decisive inclusion. Nonetheless, a legacy started by the great O’Shea was given more life, and the style was lent an even more legendary aura. The Hunter Valley Burgundy style, which was very much the product of the mid-twentieth century, was always fundamentally shiraz. Some wines would have included a parcel of pinot here and there, sometimes out of conscious blending decisions, and sometimes simply because there was some pinot that needed to go somewhere – but in either case, the true pinot/shiraz blends were the province of O’Shea.
When O’Shea died in 1956, at the too-young age of fifty-nine, the ‘Mount Henry’ label faded into history, along with the blend itself. And in time the other ‘Hunter River Burgundies’ would also fade into history, thanks to a concerted effort from the French government and the European Union. The ‘Burgundy’ in ‘Hunter River Burgundy’ referred not to the specific French wine region, but pointed to a medium-bodied, often fragrant and savoury style of wine. This usage was widely accepted within the Australian wine industry, too – wine shows of the time typically had ‘Burgundy’ classes for light to medium-bodied reds, with the ‘Claret Classes’ reserved for more structured wines that more readily recalled the wines of Bordeaux. And while few Australian wine consumers were ever under the misapprehension that the Hunter River runs through the centre of Chambolle-Musigny, or that the Hill of Hermitage is in the Barossa, the use of French geographical names to indicate styles lead to some patent absurdities – such as ‘Hunter River Rieslings’ that proudly declared that they were, in fact, made from semillon. The French thankfully put their foot down and called the lawyers in, culminating in a 1994 bilateral agreement that saw European geographical names protected in Australia in exchange for reciprocal recognition of our regional names and easier access for Australian wines to the European market. Although this caused some paroxysms at the time – mostly amongst consumers of a certain age who were aghast at the idea they couldn’t call their favourite Seaview cuvée ‘Champagne’ any more – it was clearly the right move, allowing both the ‘Old World’ and the ‘New World’ to shine for what they had accomplished, and not holding up one as a foggy mirror of the other. The switch to varietal labelling of wine wasn’t always easy – as shown by the recent dust-up between Australia and Italy on the subject of prosecco/glera (now resolved), or the earlier internal battle for a clear definition of the word ‘riesling’ – but it has been a remarkable success, with Australian consumers now fully accustomed to ordering a glass of shiraz rather than a glass of Hermitage.
Now unable to hide itself in the language of ‘Hunter River Burgundy’, the blend of pinot noir and shiraz could stage a small and quiet comeback using its more accurate varietal name. Appropriately enough, the first resurgence came from Mount Pleasant itself – then still under the ownership of McWilliam’s, with winemaker Phil Ryan at the helm. The first modern release was the 1998 vintage, and a 2002 was also made – but it was the next release, the 2011, that made a real impact, which was also the same year that Mount Pleasant released their first varietal pinot noir since 1996. Both 2011s were made by Gwyn Olsen, who moved on to work for both Pepper Tree Wines and Briar Ridge – both of which now make versions of O’Shea’s blend. (Olsen is now based in the Eden Valley, working for Henschke.) Olsen’s 2011 Mount Pleasant wine was the start of the Hunter’s renaissance of the blend, with Meerea Park following in 2013, and makers such as Silkman, Usher Tinkler and Comyns & Co. following suit. A few years later, the blend was vocally championed by Mount Pleasant’s new chief winemaker, Jim Chatto. Chatto also resurrected many of O’Shea’s individual-parcel bottlings, too – reviving what was, at that time in the Hunter, a very uncommon practice of focusing on site, rather than regional style. Hunter winemakers also imported the style down south, notably to the Yarra Valley, with Simon Steele of Medhurst and Sarah Crowe of Yarra Yering leading the way. (Medhurst’s ‘YRB’ wine even carries a cheeky nod to the Hunter, with the acronym standing for ‘Yarra River Burgundy’.)
“I want it to be soft and juicy, and you think, ‘That’s really slurpy and I want another glass,’ but then you notice the structure to it. And you think, ‘Hang on a minute, it’s more spicy, more complex, there’s more longevity – this wine has more legs than I thought it did’.”
Crowe made the first ‘Light Dry Red’ at Yarra Yering from the 2015 vintage, which was both a tribute to a long-retired style made by the late Dr. Bailey Carrodus – Yarra Yering’s founder – and those early wines of O’Shea. It was somewhat of a breakout wine for the style, making a big impression critically and inspiring other makers outside of the Hunter to experiment with the blend. Crowe notes that the makers in the Hunter generally have the intent of producing medium-bodied wines that will age well, usually with shiraz the dominant component. They will often use a little more new oak and see a seriousness to the blend that is perhaps not so widely taken up in places like the Yarra, where a close to equal blend is more likely, and early approachability and crunchy vibrancy are the order of the day – though not exclusively. While the latter is her approach, she gives a decent nod to the former, too. “Firstly, I look for balance, but for me I don’t want it to be simple and fruity and confected,” she says. “I want it to be soft and juicy, and you think, ‘That’s really slurpy and I want another glass,’ but then you notice the structure to it. And you think, ‘Hang on a minute, it’s more spicy, more complex, there’s more longevity – this wine has more legs than I thought it did.’ It’s about building all those things in.” That principle may just be a distant reflection of how O’Shea crafted his wines, with an eye firmly on a more complete whole – perhaps in a lighter frame, but nonetheless with an eye to detail, drinkability, and potential age-worthiness.
Winemaker Wally Cupitt, of Cupitts Estate in New South Wales’s Shoalhaven Coast region, says that he was drawn to blending pinot noir and shiraz together owing to the blend’s uniquely local history: “The core drive is just the love of the blend,” he says. “For me and the guys at the winery, it’s definitely quintessential for New South Wales – we see it as a unique blend that’s been invented in New South Wales, by Maurice O’Shea … the blends that I like are those ‘ethereal’ styles of shiraz/pinots that have a bit more of that kind of savouriness in the backbone, but they’re still very moreish. And with really good longevity, interestingly.” The blend also solved a few issues in the winery, too: “Like a lot of things, it was fate and logistics – we’ve got some shiraz, we’ve got some pinot, and we’re making a few blends of those particular varieties,” he says. “But within the tiers of wines that we were making, there were just a few barrels that didn’t quite fit, and we were looking at numbers – and often it’s not hard to twist the arm and and go, ‘Let’s have some fun with this’.” He’s quick to point out that this doesn’t mean the barrels used as the base his 2024 ‘Project Wine № 1’ pinot noir/shiraz blend – the first release of this wine – were mere leftovers from putting together the label’s varietal pinot noir and shiraz wines, though: “Obviously, there was nothing wrong with them – there was just a little bit more of an edge to them, they didn’t quite fit into the main wine,” he says. “Some of them were quite muted, and withheld a little bit – and they had that kind of savoury, structural element to them.” In the end, Cupitt and his team were so excited by the quality of the blend made from these outlier barrels that, in his words, “we threw a couple of extra barrels of each, shiraz and pinot, in there as well, just to bulk it up a little bit – because we liked what we were looking at.”
While Cupitt’s approach nods to the pioneering history of Maurice O’Shea, it also draws on another Australian winemaking tradition – that of multi-regional blends, most famously associated with Penfolds’ ‘Grange’. “We’re on the coast here in Ulladulla – the south coast, Milton, Mollymook area,” Cupitt says. “For climatic reasons, and just the way the business started, logistically, we didn’t have time to be growing the fruit, or the space on our property. So we started from very early stage buying fruit in from regions around us, and that’s just evolved. So we like to say that we try to represent southern New South Wales – in our vineyards, in our fruit, and in our wines, made to suit the lifestyles on the South Coast.” As such, while there is a small portion of estate-grown fruit used at Cupitts, most fruit is sourced from nearby regions – Canberra District, Tumbarumba, and Hilltops, which in his words are “our backyard – we get our fruit from vineyards four, five hours’ away.” He adds: “There isn’t much pinot noir grown in Hilltops,” Cupitt says. “We’ve always got our pinot noir from Tumbarumba, so if we’re going to do a shiraz/pinot we’d have to go multi-regional anyway.” And while he’s happy to blend between those two fruit sources, seeing them as intrinsically linked to a broader Southern New South Wales winegrowing zone, he admits reservations about going further afield: “I’d feel a bit funny about getting some pinot noir from the Yarra Valley and blending it with some shiraz from Hilltops – that’d be a bit weird.”
“We’ve always got our pinot noir from Tumbarumba, so if we’re going to do a shiraz/pinot we’d have to go multi-regional anyway. I’d feel a bit funny about getting some pinot noir from the Yarra Valley and blending it with some shiraz from Hilltops – that’d be a bit weird.”
Having made the wine, Cupitts now has to sell it – and this isn’t necessarily an easy proposition, given that Australian consumers, now fully on board with varietal labelling, tend to see blended reds as somehow inferior. “We’re starting small with it,” he says. “We’ve only made 1500 litres of it. We’re just pushing it towards our wine club at the start, and putting it at an attractive price point. It’s $35 a bottle, so it’s on the lower end. Our idea is to try and push it to wine bars and that kind of thing – try to get a bit of demand for it first, and then bump up the production.” As far as overcoming the persistent bias against blended reds goes, his approach is simple: “We’re trying to create a buzz about it by getting people to taste it,” he says. “We’re trying to change people’s perceptions about it one by one at the cellar door.” He argues that multi-regional blending is a useful technique that can be part of hedging against climate change: “If you’re looking forward – obviously, with the climate change thing and the vintage variation we’re getting these days, it makes sense to be able to have these little blends,” he says. “They’re tools to find places for the wines that you can make from the fruit that you get in.” This doesn’t necessarily mean that the wines should be cheap and cheerful ‘juicy bangers’, though. “There would be a lot of crossover with that chilled red style – there’s a lot of those out there, but if you see there’s other single varieties on the chilled red shelf, you probably would go for one of those, as opposed to a shiraz/pinot,” he says. “So I think maybe this blend is, for the sake of longevity, probably better made in a more considered and and bit more complex style.” Not that this means sacrificing sheer deliciousness: “When they do have that kind of savouriness to them, and that interesting ethereal quality, they still are very moreish – medium-bodied, and still quite approachable,” Cupitt says. “It’s the wine we always drink in the bloody winery!”
Our panel: Sam Baxter, sommelier, Geralds Bar; Isabella Greco, sommelier; Robert Aiken, wine merchant, Dan Murphy’s; Michelle Brice, bar manager and sommelier, Bar Thyme; Noah Ward, wine communicator, Bottle Shock; Jenny Polack, wine educator, Bacchus Academy.
Baxter commenced the discussion by noting that many of the wines in the line-up had been made with an eye to the now-popular chilled red – or at least ‘chillable red’ – market. “The entire line-up really showed what the winemakers were gearing towards the market, more than anything else,” he said. “A lot of these were very linear in fruit, very simply done, very simply dressed – they were ‘picnic bashers’, more approachable in style, rather than those traditional, more serious takes on the blend that you used to get fifteen years ago, or even ten years ago. Which is good because it makes money – and at the moment it is hard out there commercially, so you do have to raise funds when you can – but it also made it quite a challenging flight for me. I’ve tasted some seriously amazing pinot/syrahs in the past, and I saw some here – they stuck out like gold flakes within the brackets – but overall, you’re sitting there and you’re like, ‘Come on – just give me a little bit more. I know you guys can do better’.” He added: “Why aren’t we going back to those old-school styles – making these long-lasting, really structured, really powerful, yet really elegant pinot/shirazes?”
For Polack, this tension in the category – between the juicy, fresh picnic wines and the more serious wines made in the mould of Maurice O’Shea’s groundbreaking Hunter reds – needed to be understood within the context of changing wine labelling laws. “It’s a very new blend, in terms of putting the grape varieties on the label,” she said. “I mean, it’s an old style in terms of history – it used to be called ‘Burgundy’ – but it’s a new style in terms of calling it pinot/shiraz or shiraz/pinot.” She added that the Australian wine industry was built on blends – not just between varieties, but also between regions: “Traditionally, Australia has blended over regions – ‘Grange’ has always been a blend of different regions,” she said. “I remember – sorry, I’m old! – I remember selling a Hunter/ Coonawarra blend in the ’80s. That would seem ridiculous today – but the wine was bloody good.”
“A lot of these were very linear in fruit, very simply done, very simply dressed – they were ‘picnic bashers’, more approachable in style, rather than those traditional, more serious takes on the blend that you used to get fifteen years ago, or even ten years ago.”
Ward argued that the historical switch from labelling via style to labelling by grape variety might explain some of the commercial difficulties of selling blended red wines – not just pinot/shiraz blends, but all Australian red blends. “I think it really highlights the fact that as soon as we took away that whole category of Australian wine – where the labels said ‘Rhine riesling’ or ‘Burgundy’ or ‘Hermitage’ – and we started putting the varieties in label, immediately blends were just viewed as somehow lesser,” he said. “Now we buy wine by variety, and site, and things like that. So if we want high quality wine, we want it to be referential to the grape variety – to taste like the grape variety, to taste like where it’s planted. And so we’ve diminish blends to a point where we think of them as just ‘picnic pounders’.”
He added that this shift was something of a double-edged sword. “As soon as we couldn’t use Old-World geographical references to label wine, we switched to variety – that’s a New World thing,” he said. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing, either, but I think people who sell blends really struggle, because people don’t know what they’re buying. If we could just call these, for example, ‘Hunter wines’ – like if we could just tell buyers, ‘That’s a Hunter wine’ – then it would be an entirely different thing. But variety is still the most important selling point in Australia.”
“As soon as we took away that whole category of Australian wine – where the labels said ‘Rhine riesling’ or ‘Burgundy’ or ‘Hermitage’ – and we started putting the varieties in label, immediately blends were just viewed as somehow lesser.”
Brice observed that some examples of the genre leant into the history of now-forbidden names by utilising acronyms for those in the know. “Like the ‘HRB’ stuff that was around for a while – it’s ‘Hunter River Burgundy’, but we can’t write ‘Burgundy’ any more, so we’ll just use this shortening,” she said. In response to this, Baxter asked, “What can we do? Is there a way we could do something like the old ‘Hermitage’ or ‘Burgundy’ bins, where there’s an agreed-upon name for pinot/syrah blends?” Brice responded, “Well, we absolutely can – it’s just that marketing schemes like that are long-term. You know, we could start that now, and in fifty years it might mean something – but for now we can’t.”
She added that the heterogenous nature of the Australian wine industry meant that the collaborative work required to get an alternative name for the category off the ground would be difficult: “A lot of the wine names used in the Old World are government regulated, or governing-body regulated,” she said. “And in Australia, we have some similar organisations at a regional level, but they definitely have less general sway – they’re not telling you what you can and can’t put on your labels. So it’s a mix of different groups, in different areas.”
"I don't really relate to the naming issue. What attracts me more is the winemaker. So maybe I've had their wines before, and I like what they do - and they come up with a new wine, a new blend. I'm happy to taste it - either I'll like it, or I won't."
Greco argued that one of the virtues of Australian wine is that it doesn’t follow the Old World’s regulations-bound, hierarchical approach to labelling: “There’s a market value to appellations, but they’re not necessarily a guarantee of a good product,” she said. “You have plenty of wines that are outside the appellations and there are absolute masterpieces.” She added: “I’m Italian – and often in Europe, we’re stuck in certain ways of how things have to be done, that this is ‘the best way’. And then you come to Australia and see that there’s a whole world of these really well-made wines.”
She argued that, in this circumstance, consumers would be better served by following individual producers that they enjoy, rather than trying to settle on a single name for this blend that could raise its prestige: “I don’t really relate to the naming issue,” she said. “What attracts me more is the winemaker. So maybe I’ve had their wines before, and I like what they do – and they come up with a new wine, a new blend. I’m happy to taste it – either I’ll like it, or I won’t. That’s how I’ve always approached it, even with the team at the restaurant, or with guests. I feel like sometimes we can be our own limitation in that regard.”
“For a winemaker, I don’t think it makes sense to put your A-grade fruit into a pinot/shiraz. I think that’s why the variability in this line-up was very stark.”
Aitken felt that the unevenness he saw in the line-up’s quality might be explained by Ward’s comment about the way the Australian wine market currently deprecates red blends. “For a winemaker, I don’t think it makes sense to put your A-grade fruit into a pinot/shiraz,” he said. “I think that’s why the variability in this line-up was very stark. The reality is that, for a lot of makers, the last barrel that didn’t make it into your actual pinot is going to go into these wines. There was therefore a lack of definition in a lot of these wines – they felt a bit like ‘sausage wines’.”
This kicked off a discussion about whether or not it was necessary to use the best available wines to make the best possible blend – with panellists drawing from their experiences in other fields to argue that this might not necessarily be the case. “I’ve done blending with olive oils, and it’s very interesting – sometimes the lesser olive oils make the better blends,” Polack said. “I’ve done similar stuff with whiskey,” Brice added. “If you get your really interesting, best barrel – the one with the most complex flavours – and then you blend that with another barrel that’s also complex like that, then you just get mud. But if you get something that’s light in flavour, and then you get something else that’s very flavourful, but only the one flavour, and you mix those together – suddenly everything opens up.”
“If you get your really interesting, best barrel – the one with the most complex flavours – and then you blend that with another barrel that’s also complex like that, then you just get mud.”
Aitken wrapped up the discussion with a provocation: “I’ll take a pessimistic view and say that the category will continue to decline,” he said. “And I don’t think that’s the worst thing in the world, because it means we’re selling more sangiovese, more tempranillo, more alternative varieties. You sell less pinot/shiraz, but it’s an opportunity to sell something else. People have less money, and they’re drinking less in general. So I don’t think it’s the worst thing that these styles come and go.” In response, Ward argued that keeping the category alive would require bravery from producers: “You’ll need some courageous producers to go, ‘You know what? I’m not going to make my best plot of pinot into a varietal wine, or to make the single-site pinot my best wine. I’m going to take pinot and shiraz, and make that blend my best wine.’ That would be an interesting way to do it.”
It’s no wonder that Sam Baxter fell into the sommelier lifestyle – between his childhood spent in WA’s Swan Valley and his priestly grandfathers secretly passing him sips of Port, it was a done deal. He found his love for wine working at a wine merchant in the UK, and once back in Perth decided to pursue a career in wine. Since moving to Melbourne, he has become a familiar face to the CBD’s diners, popping bottles at Hazel, Coda, Rockpool and Maha. In November 2025 he helped reopen Geralds Bar at its new Lygon St home, where he works as a sommelier within its new restaurant space, Parlour by Geralds Bar, slinging booze and serving cheese.
Isabella Greco hails from Florence, Italy. While studying law, she worked at several restaurants in Italy, eventually succumbing to the irresistible allure of wine. Arriving in Australia in December 2014 for a six-month working holiday, her stay extended to ten years – and counting – after securing a job at the idyllic Stefano’s Restaurant in Mildura. There, she served as the restaurant manager and wine director for almost nine years, counting the legendary Stefano de Pieri as a mentor. Isabella has recently moved to Melbourne to embark on her next journey in wine hospitality, and is currently working front of house at Marameo.
Robert Aitken started his wine career in 2010, managing both small- and large-format retail liquor stores. After a two-year stint in London, working across the beverage programs of restaurants and pubs, he returned home to spend three years as a wine merchant at Dan Murphy’s. In 2022, he transitioned into the Endeavour Group buying team, where he is am currently a category manager in the fine wine team, managing a diverse portfolio of East Coast suppliers across Dan Murphy’s and BWS. He completed his Wine & Spirit Education Trust (WSET) Certified Educator Training Programme in 2021, and graduated from the WSET Level 4 Diploma in Wine in 2025. For him, a career in wine has always been about creating connections, meeting great people, and learning as much as he possibly can.
Michelle Brice grew up in Tasmania, where she was exposed to wine culture from a young age, but her love for wine truly developed in Melbourne, alongside her hospitality career. She cut her teeth as a bartender at the Atrium Bar in Crown Casino, before becoming the assistant manager at critically-acclaimed Footscray cocktail bar Trouble in Dreams, during which time she completed her Wine & Spirit Education Trust (WSET) Level 2 Award in Wines. She currently manages the bar program at Footscray bistro Bar Thyme, where she also performs sommelier duties.
Noah Ward joined Unico Zelo in 2017, when they first opened their cellar door in Gumeracha. Since then, he’s worked in pretty much every aspect of the business – at the cellar door, in the winery, on social media, and in marketing and sales. He now looks after global distribution of Unico Zelo’s wines, alongside a burgeoning portfolio of imports – in addition to being one of the hosts of Bottle Shock, Unico Zelo’s YouTube channel dedicated to wine education. He completed his Wine & Spirit Education Trust (WSET) Level 4 Diploma in Wines and Spirits in 2025.
Jenny Polack holds an impressive trio of wine qualifications: an Associate Diploma in Wine Marketing from the University of Adelaide, an Master of Science in Wine Business from the Organisation internationale de la vigne et du vin (OIV), and the Wine & Spirit Education Trust (WSET) Level 4 Diploma in Wines and Spirits. Her academic background is complemented by teaching credentials including a Certificate IV in Workplace Assessment and Training and the WSET Certified Educator Training Programme. Her decades-long teaching career spans a wide array of institutions, from TAFEs and Edith Cowan University to international WSET programs and private workshops. She was awarded the Wine Communicators of Australia (WCA) Best Wine Educator Award in 2016, and was a finalist for the same award in both 2015 and 2019.
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