Yarra Yering

In September 2008, founder Bailey Carrodus died, and in April 09 Yarra Yering was on the market. It was Bailey Carroduss clear wish and expectation that any purchaser would continue to manage the vineyard and winery, and hence the wine style, in much the same way as he had done for the previous 40 years. Its acquisition in June 09 by a small group of investment bankers seems to have fulfilled that wish. The low-yielding, unirrigated vineyards have always produced wines of extraordinary depth and intensity. Dry Red No. 1 is a cabernet blend; Dry Red No. 2 is a shiraz blend; Dry Red No. 3 is a blend of touriga, tinta cao, tinta amarela, tinta roriz and souzao; Pinot Noir and Chardonnay are not hidden behind delphic numbers; Underhill Shiraz is from an adjacent vineyard purchased by Yarra Yering over a decade ago; and Potsorts is an extraordinary vintage port style made from the same varieties as Dry Red No. 3. Sarah Crowe, who had carved a remarkable reputation as a winemaker in the Hunter Valley in a relatively short time, was appointed winemaker in the wake of Paul Bridgemans departure to Levantine Hill after the 13 vintage.

Would I have guessed she would make wines of the calibre of the 2014 wines? No, I would not. It would be hard to find two regions so different in their make up: climate, terroir and varieties are but a starting point. And 2014 was not of the same class as 2010, 2012, 2013 and 2015 in the Yarra Valley.

The foretaste of the 2015 Pinot Shiraz would be compelling even if there was no other evidence, but all the Yarra Valley makers regard 2015 as a very, very good vintage. There are still many wines from the best producers awaiting release as this book goes to print. My mouth dribbles at the thought of the Yarra Yerings.

I’m sure that Sarah’s experience will grow exponentially over the coming years as she accumulates knowledge about the strengths and weaknesses of the blocks within the vineyard. If there are hard decisions to make, she won’t shirk the challenge. Her bubbly personality and pocket-rocket size shouldn’t fool anyone. Staring down those with a long connection to the vineyard and its wines, who were horrified at the thought of a new red wine and the lèse–majesté of resorting to screwcaps were dealt with firmly but politely, histrionics nipped in the bud before things got out of hand. JAMES HALLIDAY