Riesling has been grown and vinified in Germany for at least 600 years, and likely for much longer. Other varieties were grown in the Middle Ages and identified by name on invoices and correspondence. By the mid-17th century, riesling was accepted as Germany’s (or those regions that were going to become Germany) finest grape variety, a position it indisputably holds to this day.
In the second half of the 19th century, aged riesling (30 or more years old) was more expensive than First Growth Bordeaux. But by the late 1950s O.R. Crittenden (one of Melbourne’s finest wine merchants) was selling Blue Nun. In Germany the market wanted dry rieslings regardless of the act that they were thin and weedy. Yields had trebled, and once the sugar was fermented the wine bordered on tasteless, everyone was a winner. The price per bottle came tumbling down, and German merchants had no problem selling the wine in their domestic market or overseas.
The house of cards in Australian didn’t crash until the 1970s, but in the meantime Lindemans Ben Ean Mosel, Hamiltons Ewell Moselle, Leo Buring Liebfrauwein, and Woodleys Queen Adelaide Riesling had dominated the white wine market.
Then there was the problem of nomenclature: Hunter River Riesling was in fact semillon; Clare Valley Riesling was crouchen; riesling named thus was no more than an approximation of style, and could be a blend of many, some, or one varieties that may or may not have been riesling. If you found a wine labelled Rhine Riesling, it was likely it was just that.
It was not until 2000 that it became illegal to call a wine riesling unless no less than 85% of it was the real deal. By this time, the reputation of the variety had been thoroughly trashed and confused, the one enduring assumption was that riesling was a sweet white wine.
So when, in 1988, Judi Cullam and Barrie Smith decided to diversify by converting a small part of their remote sheep grazing property into a vineyard, there were many issues to be confronted, not the least of which was what white grape should be planted.
In 1987 more tonnes of riesling (40,000) had been harvested than any other single variety. Semillon was second (36,000 tonnes), chardonnay third (18,600 tonnes). Chardonnay was increasing rapidly, but it was not until 1992 that it overtook semillon and moved into first place with 48,700 tonnes.
The decision to focus on riesling bordered on the inevitable, but as the 1990s passed, chardonnay swept all before it. In 2010 298,000 tonnes of chardonnay were crushed, compared to 33,700 tonnes of riesling. And, of course, there has been the sauvignon blanc tsunami.
From an international perspective, the picture is not dissimilar. Sauvignon blanc has had a dream run for the past 25 years, pinot gris following in its wake.
The only comfort Judi and Barrie have is that riesling is a tough proposition to sell wherever you look in the world. Much of Germany’s best riesling is exported, simply because the domestic market is unwilling to pay realistic prices for the wines.
Frankland Estate’s response was not to walk away, not to graft riesling to other more fashionable white varieties, not to admit defeat in any way, shape or form. If the market won’t come to our remote part of Western Australia, we must go to both the domestic and international markets. Thus in 2001 it held the first International Riesling Tasting that has grown into a worldwide event. The sixth such tasting will be held in Sydney on February 6 and 7, with Jancis Robinson MW a special guest.
And to celebrate, Frankland Estate has released three single vineyard rieslings from 2011, with a fourth made in an off-dry (Kabinett) fashion. They are four wines of the highest quality: there was never any thought of cutting the cost of production and making more wine (of lower quality) to balance the books.
As well as Jancis Robinson, the one and only Stuart Pigott will help run the event, which is held under the joint auspices of Frankland Estate, Chateau Ste Michelle of Washington State, and Dr Loosen Estate of Mosel, Germany. Tasting notes follow, and you can find full details of the event on www.feirt.com.au
Smith Cullam Riesling 2011
Light, positive straw-green; made in (just) off-dry mode, with 19 g/l of residual sugar. Just when you think this is merely another Mosel copycat, the astonishing drive and intensity of the palate makes the half-formed words describing the bouquet completely irrelevant. It demonstrates how great riesling (more than any other variety with the possible exception of semillon) is made in the vineyard.
97 points; drink to 2031; screwcap; 11˚alc; $45
Netley Road Vineyard Riesling 2011
Distinctly deeper straw-green colour; the bouquet has hints of herb and stone which in no way prepare you for the iron fist-in-a-velvet-glove assault of the palate, its power unfolding in waves, mineral, lime zest and rapier-like acidity dominating the back-palate and finish.
96 points; drink to 2030; screwcap; 12.7˚alc; $27
Isolation Ridge Vineyard Riesling 2011
Pale straw-green; it has a shy, floral bouquet with hints of spice and apple, then a beautifully structured, supremely delicate, palate; unfolds on the finish and aftertaste with mouthwatering, citrussy acidity.
94 points; drink to 2026; screwcap; 12˚alc; $32
Poison Hill Vineyard Riesling 2011
Light straw-green; much more expressive than Isolation Ridge at this early stage, with fragrant lime blossom rising from the glass at the first swirl, and fills the mouth with its bold and ripe flavours. Is the most precocious of the ’11 Frankland Estate Rieslings.
92 points; drink to 2020; screwcap; 11° alc; $ 27