Wine: Merlot the merrier (and daggy no more)
Many buffs shun merlot, but Brendan Carter of Unico Zelo in the Adelaide Hills reckons it has been made the wrong way.
It’s a sad story. A dejected merlot comes home from school one day to tell his parents a hard truth: he is just not cool any more.
He knows he’ll never be as popular as pinot noir, sure he’ll never get a girl to like him more than she does sauvignon blanc, and now all those Italian transfer students are hanging around (ultra-hip nebbiolo and devil-may-care sangiovese) he feels insignificant.
The only one who will have anything to do with him is cabernet, and even then he feels like the sidekick in the relationship. To top everything off, shiraz took his lunch money.
Merlot: daggy, outdated, uncool. Many wine drinkers associate merlot with an explosion of fruit, an unctuous jar of jam to the face lacking in complexity. Or they remember Paul Giamatti’s character in the 2004 film Sideways: “I’m not drinking any f..king merlot.” Either way, they’re unlikely to order it in a restaurant.
In my early days as a sommelier it was a nuisance, a wine that sat on a list among more challenging and interesting varieties, a wine people drank when they didn’t know what they wanted to drink; the vinous equivalent of chicken.
Changing opinions on wine is nearly impossible. I know people who won’t touch an unoaked chardonnay and others who refuse to drink riesling on the basis that it’s “too sweet”.
But with a little education and experimentation, you may find merlot is something exciting, relevant and, that most sought-after adjective in a modern wine industry, trendy.
Brendan Carter, winemaker and unflinching merlot fan at Unico Zelo in the Adelaide Hills, says the genesis of the grape’s unpopularity is in the way it has been produced in Australia.
“We’ve been crafting merlot wrong for years,” he says. “How many people do you ask about merlot that say they’re big, ripe, soft wines for quaffing? Good merlot requires structure, finesse and a balance between sweet and savoury (as opposed to overt sweetness). It requires time to grow, and craft … it’s not a variety that can be banged out of a beverage sausage factory and released overnight.”
It’s a fine sentiment and producers such as Unico Zelo, Cork Cutters and Shobbrook are taking a more considered approach to merlot and putting their own Australian stamp on the grape.
Try jumping the pond to Bordeaux, where merlot is an invaluable blending agent, and on the Right Bank in places such as Pomerol and Saint-Emilion it dominates the blends. Wines here are confident, commanding and compact, showcasing just how good the grape can be.
Chateau Petrus in Pomerol makes a wine from 100 per cent merlot that commands prices in the thousands. And if you suggest Chateau Petrus isn’t cool, I’m afraid we must step outside.
Of the half-dozen merlots I tasted for research purposes, not one failed to excite or cause me to question my preconceived ideas of this noble grape. So, is merlot cool? I’d hang out with him.
TRY THESE
2015 Unico Zelo Taboo Merlot, Adelaide Hills ($35)
Soothing aromas of cassis, pomegranate pith and garden herbs. Stacks of tension and elongated tannins. There’s a big splash of alcohol here, but waves of staggered acid keep it in check, leaving just a slight stain of tart red fruit (think cranberry and redcurrant) on the palate.
2016 Vin du Patron Merlot, Preston/Macedon Ranges ($25)
Aidan Rafferty uses fruit from a Macedon farm to craft what he calls his Wine of the Boss. He operates out of a shed at his home in Preston, Victoria, and only 400 bottles were produced for the 2016 vintage. Whole bunch grapes with slight carbonic maceration are fermented in stainless steel and bottled unfined and unfiltered. Rafferty recommends drinking it chilled, and if you’re chasing rich purple fruit without the jam for the last, lingering drops of summer, The Boss has you covered. Look out for this rarity in bottle shops.
2012 Chateau Guibeau, Puisseguin-Saint-Emilion ($35)
Eighty per cent merlot, 10 per cent cabernet sauvignon, 10 per cent cabernet franc. Dusty dark fruits and forest floor with a slight smoky meatiness. Tannins march down the palate with regimental precision. Strong chested and concentrated yet refined.