Wine & Wallaby: A Lesson in Pairing and Preference
At the Melbourne Food & Wine Festival: Into The Vines event, an evening of wine and game meat pairings, wine educator Jay Bessel danced around the room, passionately proclaiming that the key to exploring wine is akin to a "Bob Hope moment." It's about experiencing "the right wine at the best possible time." But what happens when one can't quite connect with a wine? How does one, particularly a wine writer, express dissent?
I found three of the six wines I tried delicious in their own right, with or without the pairings of sustainable, low-emission game meat sourced and prepared by Lenah Game Meats. Specifically, the team served Tasmanian wallaby and venison in various process forms (salami, bologna, cured, minced, and pulled). Ultra Culture's savory hot sauces, produced through waste-free fermentation, accentuated the pairings' smokey flavors and unique textures. I hadn't attended the event hungry, but the fusion somehow evoked a culinary curiosity too stimulating to ignore, so I indulged when I saw no one looking.
We began the evening with Yūgen's Morning Star Pino Gris, which bears the profound mysteriousness and beauty of its branding. It's a playfully complex rainbow of flavors that might resonate particularly with those from cultures based in tropical climates. The moment recalls laboriously unraveling mangosteen to devour its sweet and sour juiciness. It's a dry, light, bubbly flavor worth the effort. I preferred the venison bologna pairing since the meat was less tough and not as salty as the cured wallaby. Slap some of Ultra Culture's hot sauce on that baby — any sauce because they’re that f'ing good — and you're in a tastes-like-teen-spirit nirvana.
Heading over to the reds, fresh cranberries and rose petals immediately came to mind with Oscuro's Nebbiolo. It was sensationally smooth, delightfully scented, and subtly dry as though sprung from the tartness of a berry. Parkside's 2021 Pinot Noir Vintage was another velvety red but with amplified manifestations of raspberries that had been chilled and unsuspectingly light when nestled between the roof of the mouth and tip of the tongue until gently squeezed, transforming the flavor into a tantalizing acidity. I had a hell of a good time taming the cured wallaby and finessing the pulled and minced meats with these two. The hot sauces magnified the feisty, sensual pairing with a familiar seasoned tingle in the mouth one would encounter in Afro-influenced pepper sauces, lulled by the smoothness of the delicious red wines.
Here's where it gets interesting: I didn't align with the tastes of Dirty Black Denim's Electric Marsanne, Brave Goose's Viognier, and Aller Trop Loin's BOJO. However, Bessel said it best when encouraging the room of tasters to expand our tasting attitudes. What might not vibe well with me could be someone else's dig.
The Electric Marsanne was aptly named, and precisely that: Marsanne bursting with energetic flavor. This wine might suit someone who wants punchier, peachy-citrus notes. However, instead of a meat pairing, I "reckon" (if we're keeping this convo strictly Aussie), something that wouldn't clash with the electrifying nature of the wine would pair well. One might enjoy the Electric Marsanne with fried, lightly salted breadfruit tapas.
Similarly, I envisioned an alternate pairing for Brave Goose's Viognier. Meats with a glazed coating or sauces with a sticky-sweet undertone might do well for those drawn to this wine. The 2023 Viognier is incredibly fragrant, with herbaceousness wrapped in light fruit and citrus notes, like a cup of chamomile or dandelion fused with fresh fruit.
Unlike the other wines, Aller Trop Loin's 2023 BOJO is a wild night out bottled, daring you to keep up. I picked up an amusing grape candy aroma and a taste similar to the bitter-sweet earthiness of cacao. It's fun for someone who wants a lively wine to enjoy with anything from a buttery, salty snack for a Netflix-n-chill to a full-course dinner of roast, succulent white meats.
These tastings unfolded a valuable lesson about the importance of transparently expressing preference without diminishing the potential favorability for others. Just because a wine didn't resonate with me doesn't mean it won't with others; just because a taste didn't catch on now doesn't mean it won't in the future. For this reason, and outside of this post, I prefer to lean into narrative when describing wine.
The beauty of wine is that it's like art; a single bottle can elicit various interpretations. There's more than enough room — and much more fun — to creatively accommodate them all.
