On Sunday the Eighth of October Picardy officially launched their new building, a multi purpose building featuring a stunning wine room. The Burgundian stone work, and quaint timeless charm contained within made for a perfect venue for an occasion like this. A who’s who of people and what’s what of wines & food followed, celebrating all things Picardy, Chez Pierre & Pannell family.
Kicking things off, we looked at the 2023 wines still in barrel. Since I’ve been working here, it has been fascinating watching these wines evolve, improve and build flavour. Amidst some well aimed inquisitions & hyperbolic praise that bounced off the wall it was clear the Chardonnay and Pinot Noir from this vintage will be very fine indeed. On it was then, to Champagne and canapés, a seat, and the first flight of wines.
The first white of note was the 2016 Boise, a slightly wooded blend of Sauvignon Blanc and Semillon. It was met with high praise for its drinkability: the acid had softened, the fruit very attractive and in the pear and citrus spectrum, rather than anything tropical. The 2022 Chardonnay is an absolute banger, I’m drinking this as often as I can & it overshadowed a nice, but slightly tired 2013. The new vintage is definitely worth loading up on, as Chardonnay at Picardy have reached an exciting level as it continues along its evolutionary path with miniscule tinkering each vintage.
Next was a full flight of Picardy Noir. A 2009 and 2020 Tete du Cuvee, plus a 2014, 2021 & 2022 Estate Pinot Noir. The 2009 Tete was a little reticent, and possibly in a dumb phase. I would have liked more time to contemplate it: another time perhaps. The 2020 looked positively lively in its company, happy to do all the talking whilst the 09 listened thoughtfully. Ray Jordans recent comments on the 2020 being a new benchmark for WA Pinot seemed all the more on point with the glass in front of you. The 2022 Estate is powerful, layered and seductive with incredible pinosity & should drink very well on release, due next year. The 2021 Estate has found its feet in the last six months, a cool vintage that has produced some wines from the region that seem like they are still coming together after a period of being tight and unexpressive. The class here is now more apparent, a bit more scaled back than usual perhaps, but graceful and with a nice core of red fruit. The highlight of this flight, however, was easily the 2014 Estate Pinot, which was gorgeously aromatic and textured, and about to enter a very long drinking window. There are some museum stocks of this due for release in the next twelve months or so and I can’t wait for people to see it.
A Picardy Shiraz and Merlot blend flight followed. The young wines were undoubtably very good, but were overshadowed by two absolute belters in their prime in the 2009 Shiraz, and a 2001 Merlimont. The combination of two very good vintages and both wines being in a real sweet spot in terms of drinking windows were perhaps the secret here. This is the second extremely good bottle of 01 that I have had the pleasure of tasting recently: there are no ‘old’ characteristics to be found here, just pure Right bank bliss, drinking in its prime. The 09 Shiraz was similar, that first onset of tertiary flavours meeting what must have been some fairly profound fruit in an absolute sweet spot. This is what it is all about.
I may have the order slightly off, but I think it was this point of the night that John Jens spoke extremely well about Bill, Sandra and Dan, and of Moss Wood and Picardy in particular. He got right to the heart of what makes this place and these people (and their wines!) so special. I’m rephrasing here (apologies), but he pointed out that whilst the vast majority of us move forward with our lives, often choosing the path of least resistance Bill has taken an opposite approach. He has his ideal of perfection, whatever that may be (the stunning building a good example) and works backwards from there, often forging his own path through immense obstacles, in a quest to get as humanly close as possible to that ideal. It is an ability and a foresight so few of us have. These words, I’m sure, echoed in our heads as we tasted the upcoming flights and saw the fruits of that labour in wines that clearly sit comfortably next to what many would consider to the pinnacle of the wine world: Grand Cru Burgundy.
And so it was, that we next looked at three White Burgundys. A 2008 Rapet Corton Charlemagne, a 2010 Leflaive Chevalier Montrachet and a 2018 Baron Thenard Montrachet. The Rapet had the honour of being the finest white wine to ever pass my lips, an honour bestowed on it for all of about five minutes until the Chevalier arrived in my glass. The Montrachet was, though younger, the equal of the first two: Lady Luck (in the cork and storage universe) was clearly smiling down on us that night. I’ll save myself the embarrassment of trying to describe these wines from my rather minimal notes. The salient point here is that these were emotional wines. Wines of texture and length and waves of complex beauty. When you see a life changing piece of artwork, hear a song, or read a passage of literature you can recreate that experience relatively easily. But with great wines, they pass your lips, you savour every nuance you can, and then all of a sudden they become just a memory. And then, it is, that the fleeting moment you just experienced somehow inspires you even more. I thank very much the three people who generously brought and shared these bottles.
The first of the Grand Cru reds, a 2018 Jean Tardy Echezeaux was impressively built, but not overly seductive. Seldom is the loudest voice in the room the prettiest, but we all evolve as we mature: a decade or more likely two may work wonders here. For me though, the jury is out on (the very warm) 2018 Bordeaux and Burgundy vintage, and I often feel I am tasting a different wine to the one I am reading about. A 2012 Clos de Lambrays appeared next, the newest of the Morey st Denis Grand crus. This was on another level enterely, and the finest red wine of the night. Perfumed, soft and textured it glided through the palate and thrilled in a way only great Burgundy can. It overshadowed one of the worlds real bucket list wines in a Mugnier Musigny from the 2007 vintage. The wine got the attention it deserved, and if one was to look deeply there was a restrained beauty to it but the fruit seemed slightly muted, with some brett complicating things further. As if waiting patiently for nearly two decades to make its debut on the big stage, a 2005 Picardy Estate Pinot Noir followed with brazen confidence and a made a real ‘I belong here’ statement. This wine had much in common with the Lambrays in terms of flavour profile and textures, with beautiful soft red fruit and a real depth of flavour. Deeply convincing, just entering the drinking zone (rather than leaving it) I thought it was a revelation, and easily the second best red wine of the night. A few more red Burgundys followed, all sound – but there was a sense that when the last of the Picardy 05 disappeared it took at least part of the evening with it.*
A 1975 Moss Wood Cabernet came out, served blind (though I had snuck a peak previously). One of the first great wines to be made in Western Australia, by Bill and family. The wine was very much alive, and full of interest as it approached half a century: a piece of history, and a privilege to be in its company. Crepes suzette and Sauternes rounded off the evening and amidst some laughs and small talk, we slowly snuck out into the still cold night to be safely chauffeured home.
To be honest it took quite a few days of contemplation to feel like I had a read on the evening. Memories of the white Burgundys in particular will stay with me for a long time. The stunning peaks that a good handful of the aged Picardy wines reached, likewise. A debrief the next morning with a fellow named Greg helped. We were out in the vineyard, tending to some vines when he dropped in and shared his insights, many of which resonated with me. And if you were to try to attach some meaning to it all, the location of this conversation seemed to be the best way to go about it. For there we were, shaking off the dust and going back to doing just one of those thousand tiny little mundane tasks that need to be done to create great wine. With each pass in the vines, with each set of eyes and action in the vineyard, the chances increase ever so slightly that something of real quality can be achieved. If this goes hand in hand with a season that is kind, winemaking that is sound, and the bottle aged carefully for a long period of time, something may just take your breath away a decade or two down the track. It won’t be every year, and it certainly won’t be every bottle. But for all the reasons I’ve mentioned, on a little family vineyard, on a gravel ridge halfway between Pemberton and Manjimup magic happens in a way that you cannot put down to chance. For the lightning jolts that strike here do so with frequency and precision, blessing us with something truly special indeed.
* apologies to F Scott Fitzgerald whom I have slightly rephrased here.
** A very sincere thank you to those who put together this evening.
The Wine Accomplice 