7th Edition
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M
a r c h
2 0 0 3
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February
15, 2003
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“were
we not wean'd 'til then?
But
suck'd on country pleasures, childishly? ”
Donne,
The Good Morrow
This week
ranged from settling twelve new weaner Aberdeen Angus cattle to making
an idiot of myself on national television as the Singing Chef (capitals
deserved) with Sami Lukis, Channel Nine’s shapely weather girl; not
half
as shapely as the model who posed for the Nude Food and Wine segment of
whom viewers and yours truly saw the back ‘though that was enough - a
Tom
Roberts’ canvass, thick with mist and bush flavour - yet not an
activity
one would try during a Granite Belt winter (one of the longest
sentences
I have ever attempted in a newsletter and surprising that the grammar
checker
has not cacked it. Oh, there it goes.)
“The
quality of mercy is not strain’d.
It
droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven”
Shakespeare,
The Merchant of Venice
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We
got an inch of rain in half an hour the other day when this missive
began
and another 11mm in the following six hours. This was welcome, as you
may
imagine, for while those to the north, west, east and south got
buckets,
the Granite Belt, until now, had scored eight millimetres in a
fortnight;
just enough to put our whites in peril of botrytis, otherwise known as
bunch rot. We have checked since and thus far they are clear.
The Chardonnay,
at 13 Baume a week ago and green, has not increased sugar content but
is
less green. Interestingly, it is picking up the fig aromas that
characterised
our 2002 Chardonnay (mental pictures of that model for some reason).
Given
the vagaries of the weather we think we shall do a test again on Friday
and almost certainly pick on Tuesday, February 18.
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“Poetic
Justice, with her lifted scale,
Where,
in nice balance, truth with gold she weighs,
And
solid pudding against empty praise.”
Alexander
Pope, The Dunciad
One little
thing that could spike the pudding is that if we do get the dreaded
botrytis
and have to spray to kill it, then we will not pick the Chardonnay for
another week.
We had
a Vintage Banquet last Saturday night. In addition to the food (menu at:
http://www.halenet.com.au/~tmm/f&w02.html)
we had
a vertical tasting of all of our Beverley Chardonnays, including the
1999
of which just 300 bottles were made. |
We
also tasted side by side all three 2000 vintage reds, two of which won
trophies and gold medals. The 2000 Republic Red, a Cab Sav Shiraz blend
that was never entered in any competitions and, thus, won no medals,
drank
beautifully and was a match for the Upper House Cab Sav and the Black
Rod
Shiraz. If anyone has any of the 2000 Rep Red left in cellar, save it
for
a special occasion.
“Come
up and see me sometime.”
Mae
West, Diamond ‘Lil
The Meers
brothers attended as did Dave and Judy Thorburn, the Cross family and
Terry
and Beverley Ryan who have stayed at our cottages a number of times.
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| The
Courier Mail’s wine writer Mike Frost came with his wife Denise who
threatened
to write a Mills and Boon novel based on the WGW newsletters. “Good
grief,”
I responded, gazing into her onyx eyes, spellbound by her dazzling
smile.
Imperceptibly, she moved towards me and I caught my breath… Well, you
know
the rest.
We joined
Mike and Denise the night before at the First Sip function in the new
open
air Stanthorpe Piazza to launch both the two week Granite Belt Food
&
Wine Affair and the new Granite Belt Wine Dozens in one of which our
2001
Upper House Cab Sav is included. There was a bit of country pageantry
and
speeches through a scratchy microphone (testing twooo, twooo, twooo).
Mike
and Andrew Corrigan (MW) spoke well and briefly about wine matters and
most people drank too much.
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“Something
is rotten in the state of Denmark.”
Shakespeare,
Hamlet
Such occasions
always remind me of what a rotten little borough the Granite Belt can
be
when left to unscrutinised devices. It is amusing to observe except
that
from time to time, by-standing innocents get hurt. The local council’s
political philosophy is rooted in the Country Party’s agrarian
socialism
of last century and lots of things get done or don’t get done on nods
and
winks. Politics here has an arrogance of which the participants appear
blissfully unaware; it is about making ends justify means. The latest
outrage
involves selling sewerage outfall to one of the district’s largest
vegetable
growers who happens to operate north of town and, thus, uphill of
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| the
treatment plant. Consequently ratepayers are subsidising the
considerable
pumping costs. If they had piped it to downhill farms the shire could
have
turned a tidy profit.
Yet come
election time a donkey could get up as long as it was the incumbent
councillor.
It is titillating to watch the ebb and flow of political allegiances –
they appear as undercurrents at these formal functions and establish
the
pecking order.
"Whanne
that Aprille with his shoures sote
The
droghte of Marche hath perced to the rote."
Chaucer,
Canterbury Tales
One local
councillor (more pecked than pecking) who is also a moderately
large-scale
vegetable grower and not a bad bloke, has always been dismissive of my
water supply which is underground and, thus, invisible to the naked
eye,
unlike his extensive dam. “How’s that little well of yours going?” he
asked,
somewhat patronisingly, I thought, so I said: “How’s your big dam?”
“It’s
empty,” he said. “Well, my little well isn’t.” |
But
I digress. My favourite councillor thanked me for my newsletters that
night
but I don’t think she actually reads them. This should flush it out one
way or the other. Anyway, it was a lovely night.
Denise
Frost had a great idea. I told her and Mike that I was concerned about
the Block 5 Cab Sav – it has been a tough year for young vines and the
fruit is suffering - I suggested that if it was not up to scratch we
might
bulk it up and sell it off in carboys. “Why don’t you make a
rosé?”
Denise chimed in. It is a splendid idea and I think we may do that. We
shall call it Frosty’s Rosé and, as Mike suggested, we will put
it in a frosted bottle. Chill before serving, perhaps?

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| “They’re
a ravenous horde"
Gilbert,
Iolanthe
Anyway, after
tasting some lovely wines, including Alex Harslett’s new Fox Bar Faces
Cab Sav Merlot, we trooped off to the art gallery for the opening of a
new show and drank (for free!) Mark Ravenscroft’s superb 1999 Raven
Wines
Semillon.
To the
present: we have had an excellent response from pluckers and are in
danger
of being over subscribed for the Chardonnay harvest. With about three
tonnes
on the vines, we shall need six bodies in addition to yours truly and
Angelo
Cutuli, the vineyard manager. Certain starters are Iain and Peter
Meers;
Derek Churchill is a probable; possibles are Tony Bilbrough, John and
Kerry
van Pelt; plus Roger Jeffries has nominated himself, Griff Hodges and
Ray
Pople.
Murray
Bladwell has threatened to bring a nubile Brazilian Rotary Exchange
student
along. I suggested he save her for Carnivale in the Cab Sav.
We shall
have to rationalise the pluckers somehow (rationalising pluckers sounds
as unconvincing as military intelligence). We shall sort it out at the
Beefsteak and Burgundy luncheon on Thursday.
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There
will be at least four separate picks this year, so there will be plenty
of opportunity.
“I
come to pluck your berries harsh and crude”
Milton,
Lycidas
Sad to say
that if we do need extras, Charlotte and Elin, our Swedish backpackers,
are now unavailable, having returned to Stockholm. Sami is unavoidably
detained by a warm front and the model was so unutterably beautiful I
forgot
to ask her name. However, a couple of likely lasses from Cheshire in
the
UK called around the other day and, naturally, I accepted their mobile
number as television personalities do.
Again
she moved towards him. “I think,” he thought, “she is going to kiss
me.”
The luminous, fleshy lips held him spellbound. They came ever closer.
His
heart thumped and a lump formed in his throat. He could feel her warm
breath
on his cheek. She whiskered huskily: “We’re crossing live in two
seconds
and your fly is undone, bozo.” It was, he would later ruefully reflect,
one of morning television’s finest moments.
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