“A large Yorkshireman, who was tasting at the same time, appeared to be having an out-of-body experience but he nicely summed up what we were feeling about this mouth-filling wine: ‘Proper champion’,” writes wine columnist RICHARD CALVER.

The word that I would use to describe Paranormal, a lively hybrid bottle-shop-bar and eatery in Campbell, is sprauncy, meaning smart or showy in appearance. 

That’s not just the architecture but the placement opposite an urban park that adds light and colour to the view. There’s substance not just show to this place, too, with great knowledgeable service and good bar snacks, the lamb sausage with peach ketchup a standout.

A mate who lives in Campbell had oft sung its praises especially the wine knowledge of the staff but it was only when a morning email announced that the place would be “taken over” by winemakers from Mighty Isle and Adlib that I got out of my chair, ordered an Uber and visited late on a Friday afternoon.

It’s walk-ins only and the place was nearly full at 5.15pm with people spilling out on to the terrace where Guy Palmer-Brown and James Hopkins had set up a long table for the tasting of their wines. 

I looked across the terrace and my presence probably increased the average age of the patrons by a couple of decades. There were many people present who were young and attractive: the thought passed my mind that the next time I’m going to have a smoking hot body is, I reckon, when I’m cremated. 

Guy’s label is Mighty Isle, a reference to his British heritage. And James’ label, Adlib, is a reference to his improvised approach to the craft of winemaking. 

They share a “tiny” shed at the most southwest edge of the McLaren Vale in SA and have a similar philosophy of winemaking: low intervention, while stepping away from the traditional big bold alcoholic wines. 

James made it clear that the shared philosophy is grounded in upholding the value of organics: “We prioritise the purchase of certified organic and/or biodynamic fruit, supplemented by uncertified organic fruit from trusted local growers. 

“We do add sulphur though as a sensible preservative, but try and keep levels low.” 

Guy’s Mighty Isle wines were robust with distinctive flavours; was the fact that he produces a chilled red, the Little Pinot, a homage to his British roots, reflective of old Blighty’s cold climate?

I think, in retrospect, it’s more to do with good, experimental winemaking because this wine had a supple fruity flavour that you could drink all day. Very different but very good. 

James also produces a chilled red, the Drinky – a blend of Cinsault (70 per cent) and Mourvèdre (30 per cent), reminiscent of a Rhone blend, the first that gives a nod to this part of France.

This wine was pleasant, good for a picnic on a hot day, with just a hint of sour cherry that is frequently found in Cinsault-based wines. 

My favourite of the seven wines on offer was their Adlib and Mighty Isle collaborative,True.

This is a blend of pinot noir and shiraz, a barrel from each winemaker, deliberately made as an homage to the Hunter Valley where the name Hermitage can no longer be used as it signifies wine made in the Rhone Valley and the French, decades ago, asserted their right to the use of the nomenclature.

The name True is printed on a blue label, a good Aussie reference. A large Yorkshireman, who was tasting at the same time as my mate and I, appeared to be having an out-of-body experience but he nicely summed up what we were feeling about this mouth-filling wine. “Proper champion,” he said, as he raised his glass. 

Why did the hipster float down the tributary?

Because the river was too mainstream.