a not serious guest writer — Michael Glover
Michael Glover, fondly known as Mittens to some of us, is the winemaker and owner of Mammoth Wines. He’s a Bon Vivant, is sometimes controversial, can be polarising, loves a dip in a river but hates water on his vines. He is a constant. He likes poetry, Ludwig van Beethoven and could wax lyrical about the benefit of a Beret all evening as long as the wine was great and the company greater. He despises wine crimes detected by his acute radar for bullshit. All valid reasons to love the man which is why we’re delighted to share this heartfelt piece crafted by his own hand. It’s a short ode to an upbringing of appreciation for wine and wanderlust. Enjoy.
TRIAL BY RIVER — By MICHAEL GLOVER
A young Michael and his late Dad, Dr Dave Glover, at the Baton River somewhere around 1993, assessing a Tyrrells 1986 Vat 1 Semillon
My late father had an interesting philosophy with regard to drinking ‘great’ wine. He believed that truly great wine had an extra gear that was only able to be reached when the wine was consumed in the wild outdoors.
He also didn’t warm to restaurants, he hated the artificial façade of them, and he likened opening a great wine in a restaurant to driving a Ferrari in a 60km/ hour zone – what’s the point? Great wine needed the race track and that to him was outside surrounded by nature.
So with that in mind, my family would ritually head off into the Nelson countryside to have lunch beside a beautiful river, or upon a spectacular mountain, or at a remote beach.
Mum would pack various foods and Dad would sort the wine. Established greats would do battle with high-profile up and comers, as well as the occasional dark horse or newly hyped wunderkind.
The Riedel glasses were carefully packed, reserves added in case of breakage, wine and food stowed and off we would trundle.
In the early days, dad had a Toyota Land Cruiser equipped with a winch and a personalised number plate that read TANNIN. We could go anywhere.
A young Michael pulling the cork from the famous ‘option sock’.
A favourite spot was a location on Nelson’s Baton River, which was a tributary to the mighty Motueka River one of the great brown trout rivers of the world. The Baton lay beneath Maunga Wharepapa (Mount Arthur) and was an old gold mining location that nowadays gives hiking access to the Kahurangi Wilderness Area and the Wangapeka walking track, an ancient Maori pounamu trading route. It was a special place. In this relatively remote and beautiful location, the water crystal clear and cold, we would eat and compare great wine.
My father called this ‘Trial by River’.
It was in this setting that I witnessed a 1992 Wendouree Shiraz put the sword to an Australian legend more than 10 times its price. It was also here that a Chateau Leoville Las-Cases from the celebrated 1982 vintage declared itself to be one of the best cabernet blends I had ever had while I sat under a tree post fly-fish. On another occasion I recall a pretender to the throne, that had been judged Best Cabernet in the World at London’s International Wine Competition lined up with Chateaux Margaux from 1990. The Margaux showed no mercy.
It seemed that under Nelson’s bright sunlight and a background soundtrack of gurgling river water, lapping waves or distant bird song, certain wines possessed mystical powers and could transport you into new olfactory zones. These wines had the ability to rise to the occasion and revel in the beauty of the surroundings. They simply had ‘more’. Equally, wines that were hyped up by marketing or had earned their stripes in strange, man-made environments, such as wine competitions, were thoroughly exposed in this outdoor environment. They simply could not find that extra dimension and were found to be wanting.
As the master’s apprentice, I took on this philosophy with gusto and never went fly-fishing without a German riesling stashed in my backpack, never went to the beach without a Chablis and never slogged up a mountain without a bottle of treasured Sauternes.
Now, many years on, I can reflect on the fact that my best wine experiences have not been in shows, tastings or restaurants. Indeed they have not even been within four walls or under a roof of any kind. They have all been outdoors.
Trout bait — a bottle of Joh. Jos. Prüm chilling in the Motueka River, Nelson, New Zealand.
Memories come to me of a bottle of old Chateau Suduiraut consumed with crayfish on the rocks at Kaikoura on the South Island’s wild east coast; a bottle of Tyrrell’s Semillon consumed with fresh oysters while sitting in the warm sun on a Hawkesbury River wharf; a Dr Loosen Auslese from the Wehlener Sonnenhuhr vineyard while sitting alone under the sundial itself. The list goes on and on.
This weekend I invite you to don your boots, pack your backpack full of appropriate accompaniments and head for the hills with the best in your cellar. Take the leash off your bottle necks and let the wine soar.
The perfect spot for trial by river — Matakitaki River near Murchison New Zealand.
Coastal Sauternes – Whanganui Inlet, Golden Bay, New Zealand
Coastal Chablis – Cable Bay,Nelson, New Zealand
River Riesling with Labrador assistance – Motupiko River – Motupiko
we’re super grateful to our pals at antipodes water company. they supply us with the good water for our chats. antipodes is an artesian water that contains no chemicals, and when you’re pouring an organic wine that is gold. the mineral content also keeps the palate fresh so you can taste the wine the way the winemaker and nature intended you to. thanks antipodes, you’re the bomb. antipodes.co.nz
