Vinous thrills: Jane Faulkner on why nothing beats discovering new wines

Some folk opt for bungee jumping or skydiving to get an extreme thrill but for me, tasting new wines and grape varieties has always been where I get my kicks. I don’t care how hard some are to pronounce, or how silly I sound until I master them – in the pursuit of trying something different, nothing gets in my way. 

I find the interconnection of a vinous history, the story of people and their place, instrumental in nurturing my love and understanding of wine. For example, while saperavi grows in Australia, and really cool Georgian wines – the likes of kisi, rkatsiteli, chkhaveri or mtsvane – grace the lists of some of our more adventurous bars and restaurants, it wasn’t until I went to Georgia years ago (as in the Caucasus region of Eastern Europe), that I appreciated its depth and the diversity of its wines. Again, another buzz.

Jane Faulkner.

Georgia is the place where grape growing and winemaking likely originated, with archaeological evidence pointing to at least 8000 years of unbroken wine history. And while I’m not sure all of its 500-plus indigenous varieties make thrilling wines, preserving them is essential for genetic diversity. The continued use of qvevri – unique, large and beautiful clay vessels used since forever to ferment whites or reds on skins, buried underground – earned it a spot on the UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage list in 2013. And today, Georgia is the amber wine capital of the world. What's old is new.

I digress, but the Georgian story came about because an acquaintance, Joanne, asked me about the origin of wine. Well, I was in my element. But then she told me pinot grigio is her drink of choice. As in, her only choice, and no amount of coaxing would convince Joanne to try something else. Hers is a strong bias. May the force be with me.

My head started spinning. What about vermentino or fiano, or a really good sauvignon blanc made in older oak with some lees contact to build texture? How about a current favourite of mine, pecorino, either from Chalmers in Heathcote, or the Balancing Heart Phototropism & Ephemeral, which is grown in the Riverland but made in the Granite Belt? 

Of course, chardonnay from our key cooler climate regions holds pole position for me because of its exceptional quality, but let’s not forget chenin blanc, with exquisite examples coming from MMAD Vineyard, L.A.S. Vino and tripe.Iscariot. As for amber wine – Yangarra’s Roux Beauté often comes out on top.

Yangarra – producer of Jane's favourite amber wine – use ceramic eggs that are modelled on Georgian qvevri.

Now, let’s be clear, the issue is not about pinot grigio or gris. There are plenty of lovely ones made – thank you, Quealy, for spearheading the charge decades ago. My issue is that if you drink the same, taste the same, it gets boring. Everything appears in monochrome, and life just isn’t like that. Joanne shrugged. She is not a dull person, hence why I'm perplexed. 

Sure, flavour preferences come into play, but bias is just that, and occasionally someone or something needs to point out the obvious. I don’t love every bottle I taste but curiosity leads me. For Joanne, I know that there is comfort, even ritual, in pouring her favourite tipple on a Friday night, as the working week fades with the sunset. At that moment, and for the next while on the couch, there’s nothing to consider or worry about; the wine requires no effort of thought, either. She knows exactly what to expect from the glass at hand. I get it. Everyone has a go-to-wine. I do, too, although I have more choice on offer! 

But – as I implored her – next time you visit a bar, check out the by-the-glass selection and order a variety or style you’ve never had before. Worst case scenario, you don’t like it. Or, you might be pleasantly surprised, and your palate thankful, for something both different and delicious. Either way, cheers to drinking beautiful wine – no matter your choice.