Wine writer RICHARD CALVER says it took a day for a Barossa shiraz to come into its own. 

I’D just returned from Tathra where I had been woken by a chorus of kookaburras and where I was lucky enough to spot two white-breasted sea eagles that soared high above the eucalypts along the cliff edge as I ripped out kikuyu grass from the garden. 

From a Jungian viewpoint, birds are symbolic of messengers from the unconscious. The messages they bring can enable the ego to be given many helpful feelings that during waking hours purportedly enable you to act more effectively. But, unfortunately, the kikuyu is still embedded in the garden in a number of places, a battle for another day.

The choirs of birdsong in Tathra were a sharp contrast to what I experienced in NZ in February. When walking in the bush there, bird sounds were much less audible than I had experienced even five years ago, and I’m not going deaf. 

Historically, NZ has lost 40–50 per cent of its bird species, and more than half of these extinctions are attributable to predation by introduced mammals. Populations of many forest bird species continue to be depredated by mammals, especially rats, possums, ferrets and stoats. It’s sad and more needs to be done. 

Back in town, I’d invited a friend to dinner who has just settled back in Canberra. Serendipitously, he brought a Bird in Hand 2022 Pinot Rose’ for consumption. 

The name derives from a 19th century goldmine. The winery is based in the Adelaide Hills and Halliday gives it five stars. I’d previously tried its delightful Two in the Bush Mt Lofty Ranges Shiraz 2017, which was superlative. 

The rose’ was good, vibrant pink in colour with a strawberry finish with just a hint of clean acid. It went well with the dips for entrée, particularly the hummus. My friend abhors puns so I didn’t share my entrée joke with him but here it is hummingbirds: the Black Eyed Peas can sing us a tune but the chick peas can only hummus one.

The main course was spicy chorizo with garlic, red onion and chilli so we needed a much bolder drink than the rose’ to complement this course. 

I selected a wine that was expected to be big and bold, a Turkey Flat Shiraz 2018. This winery also hails from SA, the Barossa Valley. Halliday also rates it five stars. He remarks that the shiraz vines were first planted in 1847 with continued expansion so that there are now 24 hectares planted to shiraz. 

This wine was a gift but the internet tells me that it retails for around $55 a bottle, so I was expecting something special. I know that domesticated turkeys can fly when they are young but lose that ability as they grow older. This wine did, in fact, fall flat. 

On the nose, the smell of vanilla was overwhelming and on first taste also dominated the palate. The wine had obviously been matured in oak: the label tells me that it was fermented and matured in French oak. The vanilla taste derives from the chemical compound found in oak – vanillin. This flavour profile ameliorated after giving the wine some air.

The wine was medium bodied (14.1 per cent alcohol by volume) and didn’t have the expected hit of tannins to fight the spice and garlic that I’d hoped for.

For me, it came into its own the next day when I had a glass with gnocchi in a mild tomato sauce: the fruit was more predominant and it was a better match for the food. 

“One reason that birds matter – ought to matter – is that they are our last, best connection to a natural world that is otherwise receding. They’re the most vivid and widespread representatives of the Earth as it was before people arrived on it.”

–Jonathan Franzen