Burgundian? If you insist
Epicure, October 27th
Phillip Jones is not in thrall of France, writes Jeni Port.
HIS Bass Phillip pinots have been called ''eerily Burgundian''.
He is said to employ traditional Burgundian methods in the vineyard and winery, all highly influential in attaining the complex forest-floor flavours and plushness so evident in his wines.
If he were living in the Cotes de Nuits, the superlatives would be appropriate, but Phillip Jones isn't Burgundian, not even French, although his sleepy eyes, lived-in face and fierce champagne and burgundy habit fit the stereotype. He also doesn't mind an argument, so perhaps there is a little French blood there after all.
Jones' vineyard is outside Leongatha in Gippsland, and while the landscape sometimes wears a typical Burgundian mantle of grey skies and dampness underfoot, the scraggly gums give it away as essentially Australian. Despite the forelock-tugging to foreign influences, that's the way we should also see his pinot noirs. Too many pinot producers looking for gravitas throw the term ''traditional Burgundian techniques'' around on their labels and in their marketing.
It's rarely explained. Occasionally, there's vague references to close planting, low cropping, natural yeasts, minimalist intervention in the winery.
Too many wine writers grasping for adjectival insight make the comparison as if all Burgundian techniques produce only exceptional wines. They don't.
Jones, often described as the finest maker of pinot noir in the country, isn't about to reject the ''Burgundian'' compliment, but when asked what typical Burgundian techniques mean to him, he's ambivalent.
''I don't know that it means much,'' he says. ''I never use the term.''
He does, however, offer his admiration for the way many Burgundy wine producers work their vineyards. It's a philosophy he openly shares.
''They know if they manage their vineyards, all they have to do is pick the grapes.''
What Jones talks about with passion - and often - is something he knows a lot about: biodynamic winemaking. It's a step up from organic, with natural chemicals and preparations used, where the wine producer is guided by the moon and the planets.
He was out on his tractor four Sundays ago spraying emerging pinot vine leaves with 501 solution, a concoction of silica aged in cow horns used to attract sunlight to plants. It had to be done in one day and one day only because it was a full moon, and the moon was in opposition to Saturn - a rare event, apparently - which in biodynamic terms meant it was perfect cosmic timing for 501.
Ideally, the spray had to be out by 11am because the vine reaches up to the sun before midday, pushing all its energy skyward, whereas after lunch, the energy is focused towards the roots.
When some biodynamic winemakers sprout the philosophy as outlined by the Austrian philosopher Rudolph Steiner, they can sound trippy. When Jones talks, he keeps his feet in the vines.
He does not, for example, use 501 preparation on the base of his pinot noir plants because he has found it causes fungal diseases during the growing season.
''Biodynamic is not meant to be dogmatic,'' he says.
Maybe his allergy to dogma is why Jones does not seek biodynamic certification. Without certification he can no longer put on his labels, as he once did, that he uses organic and biodynamic processes.
Do his fans care? Not a pip.
Wine lovers buy Bass Phillip pinot noirs because they've made a connection.
They are idiosyncratic wines, often not all that pretty to look at (they're not filtered) and totally unlike many pinots in Australia. For one thing, they're not sweet and outrageously alcoholic. This is good, but because of their reputation, people sometimes expect too much.
Bass Phillip pinots don't tend to show well in structured pinot tastings, but line them up with a roasted lamb rack and spring cassoulet and they're singing. It's definitely a food thing.
The '08 vintage was fast and furious. ''One minute I'm sitting around biting my nails and then I'm running around like a headless chook,'' is how Jones describes the suddenness of ripeness, coming on two weeks early. He got the fruit in before the sugar readings went up and the (potential) alcohol went too far over 14 per cent but so the ''ripe'' signature still comes through.
The wines are plush with black fruits. ''The acidity is still OK, though, so I don't mind,'' says Jones. In truth, he had no alternative.
Under biodynamic principles there can be no acid adjustment.
It might also be considered typically Burgundian …
2008 Crown Prince pinot noir: Pretty cherry perfume, sinewy palate, herbal flavour thread, cherry-pip-dry.
2008 Estate pinot noir: Quietly reserved at this stage, spice, raspberry, textural.
2008 Premium pinot noir: Dusty, ferruginous, undergrowth, minerals, beautifully expressive.
2006 ''21'' pinot noir: Wild, funky, awkward, needs time.
2004 Premium pinot noir: Sorry, enjoying the moment, not a single tasting note other than ''damn fine''. Anyway, you get the idea …