Our turn to host neighbours for drinks. They’re of a vintage to have known Murray Tyrrell and the Hunter Valley in the 1970s, thus it seemed a safe bet to haul out a maturing HVD from the stash and invite their reminisces. Indulging my hopeless wine obsession, they turned up with a cool bottle of Tyrrell’s finest from a very, very good year. Wise with age and very kind. Smoked salmon blini and off we go.
Tyrrell’s Semillon siblings, there’s a strong family resemblance but naturally some personality differences. Both have a white peach richness over lemon curd and a beeswax glide. Similarly there’s a dry, mouthwatering line of svelte acidity. The HVD has a swell of more hedonistic fruit and generosity. The VAT 1 is perhaps more composed and even with a perfumed linger, less plump pleasure and more intellect, metaphorically so or I’d struggle. Nonetheless the DNA is one of just sweet ripeness contained by a lightness of being at low alcohol rarely glimpsed in warm hearted Australian white wine. Idiosyncratic and as Australian as Xmess in the sun.
HVD 11.5% VAT 1 11% alcohols. Screw cap, perfect for such delicate power. 94 points for both, maybe 95 as they got on so well, no sibling squabbling.