Syrah Vy Any Other Name...

The wily kangaroo loves the noble grape. On a moonlit night at harvest time in South Australia, the marsupials make an eerie sight as their man-size shadows lurk along the vine rows, sniffing and munching.

In the Clare Valley, the juice running down their odd little chins is pale Riesling. In McLaren Vale, it’s more likely black Shiraz.

Most fans of Shiraz (the Australian name for Syrah) have long associated it with the Barossa Valley, a sprawling blast furnace of a landscape north of Adelaide. The Barossa is where Dr. Christopher Penfolds first planted Syrah cuttings from Hermitage in the mid-19th century, and it now boasts the last remaining stands of pre-phylloxera Syrah vines in the world. Barossa Shiraz is typically a massive, black-throated wine with dense fruit and plenty of tannin, as displayed in the Stanley Brothers “John Hancock” ’97, St. Hallett “Old Block” ’95 (the current release), and Barossa Valley Estate “E&E; Black Pepper” ’97.

At the other end of the scale, the Coonawarra district has also attracted fans to its distinctive Shiraz. Farther south of Barossa and significantly cooler (which makes it one of Australia’s outstanding Cabernet Sauvignon districts), Coonawarra produces a lighter, livelier style of Shiraz with high-tone aromas and black pepper spiciness. The Penley Estate “Hyland” ’97 is an outstanding example.

McLaren Vale falls between Barossa and Coonawarra geographically and stylistically. Like many Shiraz fans, I’m increasingly attracted to the balance between power and elegance that is typical of McLaren Vale Shiraz.

McLaren Vale is a viticultural stage name for the Willunga Basin, a rounded notch in the coast range with varied soils, numerous limestone outcroppings and a number of distinct microclimates. The vines begin just over a mile inland from the Gulf of St. Vincent, on ground originally planted to almonds. Some almond groves remain, along with stands of gigantic eucalyptus trees harboring flocks of parrots.

The heart of the district is a teardrop-shaped amphitheater defined by a river gorge, a ridge and Gulf St. Vincent, lying about 300 feet above sea level. There’s a kind of sweetness to the climate there that imparts a gentle, tender quality to even the brawniest red wines.

Although the area at large has historically also been known as the Southern Vales, the wine producers have collectively agreed to promote the McLaren Vale name and recently won approval for a McLaren Vale Geographical Indication (equivalent to a French Appellation d’Origin or American Viticultural Area).

They also have agreed to resist, for the time being, the formal designation of subregions such as Seaview, Blewitt Springs and Baker’s Gully, although many of them point to American sub-appellations such as Napa Valley’s Stag’s Leap and Rutherford as examples of how that could be done successfully without damaging the umbrella appellation. For now, however, a united stand with a single focus is deemed most likely to stave off the developers.

Massed condos loom like an invading army across the gorge from the northernmost winery in McLaren Vale proper, Chapel Hill. Winemaker Pam Dunsford draws on several areas within the Vale for her superb Chapel Hill Shiraz, typically a blend of fruit from three areas: late-ripening Baker’s Gully, cooler, sandy Blewitt Springs and the Chapel Hill estate vineyard. The ’97 is a firm but generous wine, intense but not heavy, rich and spicy with a tarry undertone.

“That tar and spice is typical McLaren Vale Shiraz,” says Dunsford. “In Barossa, which is warmer, you get more vanilla. In cooler areas like Clare and Coonawarra, you get more black pepper.”

Tasting with Dunsford gave me unexpected insight into the nature of Australian wine in general and Shiraz in particular. Noting that her American barrels are Missouri oak, cured and coopered in Australia, she explained, “We think the ‘seasoning’ is better in Australia. It’s a lot hotter here, and we think the ratio of sun and rain seasons the wood better.”

That remark echoed through all my subsequent tastings and conversations with winemakers, as I became aware of how that special quality of Australian-cured and coopered American oak--often expressed as a subtle incense or sandalwood note--contributes to the Oz-ness of Shiraz.

Another good example of McLaren Vale Shiraz is the “Redstone” Shiraz ’98 from Coriole Winery, just south of Chapel Hill. Third-generation proprietor Mark Lloyd makes the wine from 70-year-old vines growing on a southwest-facing slope of red clay over limestone. The fruit is bold but delicately spiced, seasoned with that fine scent of air-dried American oak. The intriguing perfume works around a piercing black rose note, with a range of shifting spice impressions held beautifully in balance.

Wirra Wirra Winery produces beautiful Shiraz that will be available in the U.S. for the first time this summer. (The aboriginal phrase Wirra Wirra means either “among the gum trees” or “thunder and lighting,” depending on the tribe.)

The handsome stone building is remarkably well-equipped for a small winery. Some of the equipment, such as big Vinmatic rotating fermenters, owes a lot to the tenure of winemaker Brian Croser in the dynamic ‘80s. But the label’s burgeoning reputation is attributable to young hotshot winemaker Ben Riggs. Among other touches, Riggs has broken with tradition in aging his Shiraz in French rather than American oak. That seems to bring out black cherry and cocoa flavors in addition to the spice and tar, as demonstrated by the sleek, toothsome Wirra Wirra “RSW” Shiraz ’98.

Some of my favorite McLaren Vale Shiraz comes from d’Arenberg, where three generations of the Osborn family have made wine from very old, dry-farmed vines. The d’Arenberg “Footbolt” is a luscious Shiraz named for a racehorse the family once owned. “My grandfather originally traded some horses for our land in McLaren Vale,” notes winemaker Chester Osborn. “Footbolt never ran very well, but we liked the name as a tribute to family tradition.”

The “Footbolt” ’98 has broad, tannic forequarters and deep fruit through the withers, with a smooth gait on the palate and a strong surge at the finish (but no kick). That is to say, slightly more accessible in youth than the massive, age-worthy old-vine Shiraz they call “The Dead Arm.”

The ’97 “Dead Arm” is a formidable wine. Yet with decanting and the softening effects of aeration, it soon begins to reveal its profundity in rising waves of earthy, pepper-inflected fruit. As it opens up, each succeeding sip expresses more of that tender succulence that distinguishes McLaren Vale as the sweet spot for South Australian Shiraz.