By Michael Palij MW
Most wine scholars who care to remember will recall with a wry smile the Kiwi wine industry in the 1980s. It was nigh on impossible to find any bottle of note and consumption was generally associated with White Cloud – one enterprising producer’s response to a surfeit of Müller-Thurgau. If it sounds unseemly, it was. The domestic market was nonexistent and largely an afterthought of the dairy industry; temperature control and stainless steel were a way of life for many farmers. But there were murmurings. One recalls the seminal release of Te Mata’s 1982 Coleraine, CJ Pask’s blockbuster Gimblett Gravels Bordeaux blend of 1985 and, in the same year, Cloudy Bay’s debut, the South Island game changer.
Liberalisation kickstarted by David Lange’s government in the very late 1980s opened the doors for an industry ripe for a make-over. Taxation and licensing were simplified. Australian producers were given market access for the first time. The generic promotional body “Wines of New Zealand” was established and there was a concerted drive to grub up Müller-Thurgau and plant premium varieties. Special mention must go to the sine qua non Cloudy Bay – it was a flag-bearer in exactly the same way that Grange was for Australia and Sassicaia was for Italy. Seemingly overnight dross was out: people wanted to drink premium Kiwi Sauvignon Blanc.
In the unlikely event that, like me, you have studied aerial photographs of Marlborough in 10-year increments (beginning 1995), you will note the dramatic change from sheep pasture to vineyard. 86% of wine exported from New Zealand is Sauvignon Blanc; 77% of it comes from here. The charming and iconoclastic Ozzie academic, Dr. Tony Jordan, brought his pioneering anaerobic (excluding oxygen) winemaking techniques to Marlborough at just the same time as Cloudy Bay was taking the world by storm and the result was nothing short of seismic. Everyone wanted in on the action, and who wouldn’t? The instantly recognisable ‘cat’s pee on a gooseberry bush’ drank straight off the bottling line and retailed for the same price as Sancerre. Succulent primary fruit flavours made it fabulously versatile, and New Zealand embraced Stelvin (screw-cap) closures before anyone else. Iconic wine and less hassle than cork – a star was born.
Getting down to it, Marlborough is a prime winemaking spot. Rain, driven by westerlies, falls overland before reaching the Blenheim area. The soil is largely free-draining alluvial, and coastal breezes impart freshness. There is abundant sunshine – latitude is roughly equivalent to Valladolid in the Northern hemisphere – meaning high yields (and profits) are the norm. Nights, however, are cool, with a diurnal temperature swing that can top 15 degrees. This contributes to those signature pyrazine notes in Sauvignon including tomato leaf, tinned beans and asparagus. Perfect, really. Marlborough’s success had a domino effect. Drive south for 250km on Highway One (what a drive!) and one reaches Waipara, on the leeward side of the coastal Teviotdale Hills. This complex region with steep slopes, fractured limestone soils, and Glasnevin Gravels is more than a little reminiscent of Alsace; Waipara is a haven for aromatic varietals including Gewürztraminer, Riesling and Pinot Gris. Late harvest styles are food-friendly and delectable.
500km further southwest, Central Otago is the other side of the South Island coin: small growers and low yields. What has really put this region on the map is Pinot Noir. The first commercial release was in 1987, with global recognition coming in the early 2000s. Central Otago lies in a gigantic rain shadow so it’s bone dry and has the mother of all diurnal temperature swings – from 0°C at night to 35°C during the day. These are exciting conditions, even if the cost of production is significantly higher than in Marlborough due to the small scale of production and low yields. Estates tend to follow the Burgundian model: small (often less than 10ha in size), low intervention (but always irrigated) vineyards, high prices and premium quality. Of the many styles, the best are characterised by bright red fruit, high alcohol, a luscious silkiness, and the obvious use of oak. Try something like Paul Pujol’s Prophet’s Rock Home Vineyard from the Bendigo subregion for a taste of Central Otago’s cherry and herbal richness.
Autumn landscape of golden vineyard with rolling hills in the background, Otago region, South Island
North Island has its own Pinot Noir nucleus in tiny Martinborough. Near the southern end of the island and actually a sub-region of Wairarapa, modern plantings date from the 1970s. Its trump card is a raised plateau of alluvial gravel that affords excellent drainage properties, encouraging just the right amount of hydric stress. The climate is not dissimilar to Marlborough, although the output is arguably a big step up: hugely nuanced and plummy Pinot Noir in a way that has drawn comparisons with Burgundy. Ata Rangi is the region’s most celebrated producer, together with Dry River and Kusudu. To this palate, Martinborough pips Central Otago to the Pinot Noir post.
Although the climate in New Zealand may seem too marginal for grapes with thicker skins, careful site selection can reap brilliant rewards and nowhere is this more true than in Hawke’s Bay. Apparently, town planners allowed drag strips to be built on Gimblett Gravels (Hawke’s Bay’s premium sub-region) because one could not give the land away. ‘You can’t grow anything here,’ was the usual mantra, yet the high reflectivity and freedraining properties of the soils meant that grapes could be grown with resounding success. Coleraine caused a mighty stir when first released, but the real surprise is why Bordeaux varieties were not pursued in Hawke’s Bay in the same way as Sauvignon was in Marlborough. Yet again, the region sits in a rain shadow, and, of course, temperatures are moderated by proximity to the sea. Te Mata’s reputation for reds was secure as early as 1899 but, since then, it seems the lure of easy money further south (i.e. Sauvignon Blanc) proved impossible to resist. Fortunately, Hawke’s Bay now has a clutch of world-class producers apart from Te Mata including the leviathan Villa Maria and Trinity Hill.
80km north of Hawke’s Bay is Gisborne with a steady coastal climate that made it the original go-to region for Chardonnay. Maritime breezes slow the growing season and allow fruit to develop the necessary aromatics. The government introduced a vine pull scheme in the 1980s to support the transition from bulk drudgery to respected Geographical Indication. Gisborne is now making some decent Chenin Blanc (this may seem left-field but the wines suggest it was a good decision) alongside Chardonnay.
Waiheke Island, due east of Auckland, sounds adventurous and the wines are too. This said, it is more old school money from Auckland that greases the wheels rather than artisans’ budgets. The scene is small: under 30 wineries – some independent, others part of larger mainland holdings, all well-funded with established cellar-door trade for day-trippers from the capital. A moderating influence from surrounding waters is important, but brings with it high humidity. Bordeaux blends were Waiheke’s original success story but Syrah, grown since the early 2000s, seems to be stealing the show.
Michael Palij MW is an adventurer, entrpreneur, and the 3rd Canadian Master of Wine. Over the years, he has introduced Opimian to some truly special producers such as Cabutto, Giovanna Tantini and Cantina Clavesana.