Johann Henschke

During the Australia First Families of Wine dinner at Skylon last week, I caught up with the rather dashing Johann Henschke, a sixth-generation member of iconic estate Henschke in the Barossa Valley, to talk about the bumper 2012 vintage, cork vs screwcap, Australian wine in China, and whether he plans to take over the running of the estate.

A Taste of Andalusia at Salt Yard

Having spent an idyllic year in the intoxicating city of Granada in Andalusia, when an invite to a long, lazy, “Taste of Andalusia” lunch  from Goodge Street-based Spanish restaurant Salt Yard pinged in my inbox, I speedily rsvp’d. Salt Yard makes up one third of Simon Mullins and Sanja Morris’ Spanish restaurant empire, with Dehesa in Oxford Circus and Opera Tavern in Covent Garden completing the trilogy. A quick chat with Mullins on arrival at Salt Yard on a drizzly Sunday afternoon confirms that the pair are seeking to expand their empire with two new sites in the London district du jour, Soho, though not before the launch of their forthcoming Spanish cookbook.

Entering the buzzing upper deck of the restaurant, a glass of Mas Macia Cava is thrust into my hand. Made in Penedès rather than Andalusia, it serves as an ideal palate cleanser. The most populous of Spain’s autonomous communities, Andalusia is divided into eight provinces: Almería, Cádiz, Córdoba, Granada, Huelva, Jaén, Málaga and its capital, Seville. As varied in its terrain as it is in its cultural history, Andalusia boasts snow-capped mountains, verdant wetlands, an arid desert and miles of manicured coastline. The Andalusia we know today has been molded and influenced by everyone from the Phoenicians and the Carthaginians to the Vandals and Byzantines via the Greeks and Romans. The region’s most famous rulers were the Moors, who presided over Al-Andalus from 711 until the reconquest of Granada in 1492. Having ruled the roost for almost 800 years, the Moorish stamp will be forever imprinted on Andalusia’s collective cultural psyche.

Al-Andalus, as it was then known, was the power centre of a Muslim empire that stretched its tentacles across most of Spain and Portugal, and as far south as Nigeria in West Africa. Under Muslim rule, the Moors brought new thinking to Andalusia, and reforms in architecture, philosophy, astronomy and most enduringly, gastronomy, introducing exotic ingredients such as saffron, almonds, cumin, pimentón and pomegranate from Africa and the Middle East, which still inspire and inform Andalusian cuisine. To illustrate this interweaving of cultures, Mullins and head chef Andrew Clark – a towering figure with a sailor’s beard, heavily inked arms and a smile that stretches all the way to Gibraltar, had devised an eight-course menu highlighting Andalusia’s rich culinary history, including numerous hat tips to the Moors.

Before we’re allowed to dive into our first dish: grilled baby leeks, quail eggs, beetroot and ajo blanco, Mullins mulls over a brief culinary history of Andalusia, paying homage to the Phoenicians for passing on the skill of salting fish, and the Greeks for planting the first grape vines. Made beautiful by the raspberry ripple-like whirls in the beetroot, the dish delivers a pleasing variety of textures, from the crunch of the leek to the creaminess of the garlic sauce and the soft centres of the quail eggs. Almost audaciously, the dish is matched with a nutty Sanchez Romate Amontillado, its sweet nose of toffee, almonds and hazelnuts balanced by a surprisingly dry, saline palate.

Dish two, though not immediately recognisable as Andalusian, was the most delightful of the line-up. Borrowing from fashionable Peru, it consisted of a simple bream ceviche with coriander oil topped with a scoop of tangerine-coloured gazpacho sorbet hovering atop the dish like a frozen egg yolk. The lime fuelled, lip-smackingly fresh ceviche was complimented by the brave flavours of the icy gazpacho, with tomato, pepper and garlic all present. It proved a wonderful match for the accompanying Bodegas Tierras Gauda Albariño 2011 – mirroring the ceviche in zippy citrus freshness, with lemon, lime and apricot all in the mix, wrapped around a flinty mineral core.

Dish three – roast scallops with plum tomatoes and cumin salt – was slight in size but mighty in flavour, the ruby red tomatoes sweetening the meaty scallops, while the cumin salt added a welcome kick of spice. Peering through the kitchen window, I noticed our ebullient, well-inked chef taking a well-earned swig from his Sherry glass while we moved on to our first “natural” wine of the feast from the Alpujarras. Cloudy and rust-coloured, its nose was oxidized and Sherry-like, and any terroir expression that may have existed on the palate was masked a musky, cider-like cloak. After an increasingly heated debate about the merits and malpractice of natural wine, we moved swiftly on to dish four: calamari, soft shell crab and prawns with saffron aioli. Served on a black slate painted yellow by the saffron, the crab danced in mid air atop the squid rings, spindly legs splayed. Lightly fried in an incredibly delicate batter, the crunchy exteriors and soft interiors were lifted by a disc of cooked orange, which added an exotic Moorish twist, while the accompanying Bodegas Hidalgo La Pastrana Manzanilla delivered an invigorating, tangy, sea air kick.

Perhaps the most Moorish of the octet was dish five: chargrilled quail with pomegranate molasses and smoked almond puree. Glinting like rubies, the juicy pomegranate pips were assuaged by the sweet, grainy molasses, both of which enhanced the tender, juicy bird in a dish you could easily encounter in Marrakech or Algiers. Our second natural wine of the lunch – a Tempranillo, Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, Merlot and Granacha mash up, was a slight improvement on the natural white offering, but still too barnyard-like to yield true enjoyment from. Before dish six, our trusty chef leapt from the kitchen to explain the creation – we were about to be served Essex rabbit, though he assured us he’d removed the white stilettos before plating up. Rabbit is one of the few foods I feel guilty about eating, so it came as a relief when, on chomping, I encountered a taste akin to chicken breast. The accompanying red blend from Cadiz was a class act, showing elegance, finesse, structure and layers of spiced black fruit.

The penultimate plate reached a culinary crescendo: roast oxtail slow cooked for eight hours then soaked in lemon, served with green olives and a judion bean puree. The slow cooking showed in the super soft, achingly tender meat, enlivened and enhanced by the zing of the lemon and the purity of the buttery bean puree. An exquisite symbiosis of East and West, it served as proof that often the best dishes are the simplest. Our wine match – Tabener 2007 from Huerta de Albala in Cadiz, made from 80% Syrah and 20% Cabernet Sauvignon, shone. Dense and layered, it showed notes of blueberry, blackberry, smoke and spices, and proved a delicious companion for the oxtail.

Stuffed as a pillow and pink cheeked from the wine, we rounded off our epic Andalusian feast with a taste of heaven – tocino de cielo, literally meaning “bacon from heaven”, a decadent dish first developed by nuns made from egg yolks and sugar, served with a scoop of zesty blood orange sorbet to lift the tooth tinglingly sweet tocino. Sat opposite a Granadino in a striped shirt called Cayetano who worked as a photographer for National Geographic magazine, his deeply-felt visceral and emotional enjoyment of this rollercoaster of a meal proved the ultimate compliment. If a man born and bred in the majestic, once Moorish kingdom could find pleasure and points of reference in the dishes, from the cumin and the pomegranate to the ground almonds, sultanas and saffron, then both Mullins and our beautifully bearded chef had succeeded in brightening a dimly-lit London dining room with a kaleidoscope of Andalusian flavours.

Motörhead Shiraz banned in Iceland

Iceland’s public sector alcohol retail monopoly (ÁTVR), has banned sales of Motörhead Shiraz in the country because the name “Motörhead” is apparently a nod to amphetamine abuse. As reported on thedrinksbusiness.com, ATVR has refused to sell the Australian wine – Launched by the British rock band’s frontman Lemmy Kilmister – in the 48 Vínbúðin off-licences it owns across the country.

In defence of the move, the company said the wine promoted an unhealthy lifestyle due to references to war, unsafe sex and substance abuse in Motörhead songs. The wine’s Icelandic importer, Hjörleifur Árnason, has launched an appeal against the ban. Although ÁTVR has a monopoly on alcohol retail in Iceland, importers and distributors are able to deal directly with bars, restaurants and cafés, meaning the wine could still be sold in the country and can expect a higher profile following the controversy.

The band, which has been together for 37 years, has given its name to Motörhead Shiraz, as well as several other products, including Motörhead Vodka and Motörhead Rosé. Last March, Árnason applied for a licence to sell Motörhead Shiraz in Vínbúðin outlets. The application was rejected by ÁTVR on the grounds that the message accompanying the product was negative.

Árnason now fears that further celebrity wines will be banned in Iceland, including those by the Rolling Stones, AC/DC and Elvis Presley. Motorhead Shiraz was first released in Sweden in 2010, and has sold 120,000 bottles to date. Great Wine Online is currently selling the South Eastern Australian wine for £14.50 a bottle in the UK, describing it on the website as “fruity, with hints of blackberry, plum, eucalyptus and liquorice.”

d'Arenberg celebrates 100th birthday

Quirky McLaren Vale winery d’Arenberg marks 100 years of family ownership this year, and, as reported on the drinks business, chief winemaker Chester Osborn is keen to take the centenary celebrations around the world. “We’ll be hosting dinners and parties all over the world. We want to involve as many people as possible, we can’t think of a better excuse to have a party,” he said. The celebrations kicked off last week with a party hosted by the company’s 84-year-old managing director, d’Arry Osborn (left).

Chester has released a celebratory fizz called Dadd, made of Pinot Noir, Pinot Meunier and Chardonnay, to mark the centenary. Though milestone is worth making a noise about, Osborn, who is currently nursing a torn Achilles tendon, believes it represents a moment in a much longer journey. "I'm just the custodian at this time, preparing to pass it on," he said.

Established in April 1912 by teetotaler and racehorse owner Joseph Osborn, four generations of the Osborn family have worked the property and shaped the family business into its current form. d’Arry took over from his father in 1943 aged 16. During his tenure, he initiated the red stripe on the labels and championed Grenache. “Things were very different in those days. We worked with horses as we didn’t have a tractor. The winemaking was also a lot more agricultural,” he said.

d’Arry handed over the reins to his son, Chester, in 1983 after he graduated. At the helm, Chester’s main aim has been driving a focus on premium wines, while maintaining the techniques used by his ancestors. d’Arenberg now exports to over sixty countries and has become one of Australia’s best-known wine brands, its wines easily recognised by their diagonal red stripe and eccentric names, like The Stump Jump, Dead Arm, Hermit Crab, Love Grass and Laughing Magpie.

Osborn believes the quirky names keep the d'Arenberg brand fresh. "My father stopped saying “no more labels” about 20 years ago when he realised they increased our story," he said. The winery plans to release a number of new labels this summer, including a single vineyard Shiraz and a rosé called Stephanie the Gnome, taking its total count up to 60.

Dan Buckle of Mount Langi Ghiran

Wine and the City chats to Dan Buckle, chief winemaker of Mount Langi Ghiran in Australia's Victoria region, about the changes he's made at Langi since joining in 2003, the rain-soaked 2011 vintage and Australia's struggle to be taken seriously as a premium wine producer.

John Duval, former chief winemaker of Penfolds

Wine and the City catches up with John Duval, former chief winemaker of Penfolds and custodian of Penfolds Grange, at the Liberty portfolio tasting at The Oval cricket ground, to talk about his newfound freedom after 30 years with Penfolds, his new wine project – John Duval Wines – and whether or not there is a market for Australian wine in China.

Henschke tasting with Simon Woods

Last week on an incredibly soggy Wednesday eve, I braved the relentless rain and skidded across Wandsworth bridge to the West London Wine School for a Henschke masterclass hosted by Simon Woods, who was recently crowned Online Wine Columnist of the Year at the Louis Roederer Wine Writers' Awards.

Fresh from a trip to South West France, an ebullient Woods began by lamenting the typically British weather, though talk soon turned to the eight wine spread from the pioneering Eden Valley winery founded by Johann Christian Henschke in 1868. Legend has it that Johann fled Silesia by boat for the Barossa with his wife and four children, but arrived a single father of two having suffered three bereavements en route.

Having established the winery in Keyneton, Johann's great-grandson Cyril went on to make the switch from fortified to table wines, pioneering single varietal, single-vineyard wines. The winery is now run by 5th generation Stephen Henschke and his wife Prue – he makes the wine, she runs the vineyard. The pair are potty about organics and biodynamics (organic certification is due in 2011), and follow the principles strictly, picking Hill of Grace just before the full moon of Easter and Mount Edelstone a week after.

Other elements to their alchemy include sprinkling crushed eggshells from Henschke hens on the soil, burying cow horns filled with ground quartz, and planting yarrow flowers fermented in a deer's bladder into the soil, then dousing it with nettle tea.

With such whacky winemaking methods, I was curious to see what these lunar wines tasted like. What struck me about the range was that each wine had its own character representing the ever changing challenges of season, place and variety. The Eden Valley is higher, cooler, wetter and stonier than the warm, undulating Barossa, but I found myself drawn to both of the styles.

Highlights included the mineral, fresh and limey Julius Riesling 2007, which Woods described as 'like licking wet pebbles face down on a beach'. The Louis Semillon 2007 also impressed with its textured palate and orange blossom aromas, while the Croft Chardonnay 2007 from the Adelaide Hills had a powerful nose of rich buttered popcorn, peach and nut, and yet had a fresh, rounded, mineral palate.

As for the reds, there were two clear front runners: Keyneton Estate Euphonium 2004 from the Barossa and Cyril Henschke 2004 from the Eden Valley. The former, made with Shiraz and Bordeaux varietals, was Cabernet dominant, with black currant, black cherry and mint upfront. Voluptuous and opulent on the palate, I found notes of vanilla, cedar, smoke, tar, eucalypt, pepper and spice, with a black olive finish. Going back to the Cyril after 1/2 an hour, it had really opened up, with rich black fruit, licorice and mint on the nose and lush, fleshy, velvety fruit on the palate. Rounded and mouthfilling with a lingering finish, it emerged the superior wine. But for three times the price, you'd hope so.

The innovations at Henschke are far from over. After a stint of world travel, Stephen and Prue's son Johann is getting his hands dirty in their various vineyards and putting his own stamp on the wines. And being named Johann, he has some seriously big shoes to fill.