Marcus-Ellis-cabernet-cartel

At an undisclosed location, sometime during May 2026, the Cabernet Cartel inducted a new cohort of halcones, or indeed they tried to. Although Masonic in structure and tone, it was somewhat of a Cartel information night (something like, “you could be a Capo, too, if you work hard enough…”) albeit at lunchtime, because luncheon claret must be consumed over lunch. No argument there.

I instructed Aldo, my attorney and factotum (and reigning Altona Meadows nine-ball champion), to keep the Daimler idling out the front, just in case things went wrong. And given the crazed eyes of our slickly suited and suavely spoken hosts, Julian Langworthy and Rob Mann, things likely would go wrong – and fast.

An oath of allegiance, a finger of bougie tequila knocked back, and the purlicue inking of an ampelographically faithful cabernet leaf, and our souls belonged to cabernet. “Cabernet sauvignon is the only grape tolerated in heaven,” declared the Dons, radiating Faustian energy. 

I look to Christopher Hitchens et al. on matters of faith, meaning my cabernet indulgences will necessarily be temporal. Predictably, it quickly felt like things were spiralling out of control, with the hosts’ snake tongues flicking out the preamble, the tequila glowing inside me (had they doctored it…?), the just-perceptible purr of the Daimler yielding meagre comfort.

As the agave fog cleared, four glasses shimmered into view, swelling with a blood-like bounty. A beguilingly harmonious 2024 Forest Hill Block 5 Cabernet Sauvignon the first. Such charm, effortlessness and depth, and in this hot year, real vigour. From the start, cabernet was persuasive. Could its apparently uncool reputation be so quickly dissolved? 

The 2024 Corymbia Calgardup Cabernet Sauvignon was next, made by Rob and Genevieve (who is twice the Mann he is) from their vineyard in ozone-scented proximity to the beach in Margaret River. Another convincing argument to start pushing cabernet up the priorities list, riffing with kelp and wave-lashed rock notes, and leaving oak flavour out of view, with foudre the vessel of choice. 

While Rob was heading up Napa’s Newton Vineyard, it was, he said, the Philip Tongi Cabernet Sauvignon that stood out as elegant and refined in the “oil slick” of pre-Maga cabernets, unchanged in approach for two-score years. And that’s perhaps because Philip is French, being taught by Émile Peynaud and then working as assistant régisseur with Alexis Lichine at Château Lascombes in the 1950s.

(There’s also a curious echo, as Philip Togni came to wine after a career in oil exploration for Shell in South America. Oil slicks were not his thing. By all accounts, Philip is still alive, a centenarian living in a “cabin” (Walden-esque, I imagine) in the misty chill of the Spring Mountain vineyard.) The 2022 was showing the most carpentry of the bracket, but elegance of fruit and vitality were apparent, and patience, and air, worked wonders.

Wine four was the 2024 Wendouree Cabernet Sauvignon, the Clare Valley mint (“koala vomit,” said Rob) present but not dominant, the tannins feeling like the noble struggle of those old vines, the roots fighting rock and dust for survival.

Just as we did on the day, I have spent too much time on the first bracket. Bracket two: four wines declared as blends with classic Bordelaise varieties. 

First up, 2022 Tenuta San Guido Sassicaia, that most Italian of not classically Italian wines. An Incisa della Rocchetta family house wine originally, produced from cuttings from Château Lafite-Rothschild planted in the 1940s, that later became a Tuscan superhero, joining the international brigades of the Italian civil wine war. A baby swaddled in Bordelaise oak, granular of tannin, the nose more equine than aquiline, with the sop of excellent cured swine the only way of righting things, which it mostly did.

Julian noted that, like dogs and their owners, wines can sometimes resemble their makers. This holds true for the serenely detailed, medium-weighted 2023 Yeringberg, embodying the quiet grace of the De Pury family and the historic old winery buildings, with a Shaker-like sense of proportion and handsome practicality, absent (and thankfully so) any fervent religiosity. It alone is a bulletproof argument for cabernet and associates. 

Juniper Estate’s 2024 was up next, the first made by Andy Bretherton, reigning Len Evans Dux and former Deep Woods winemaker, alongside Julian, and, by all accounts, a hell of a nice guy. Nice wine, too. Weighing in at about $35 to Sassicaia’s $700 or so. The old “would you rather 20 bottles of X or one bottle of Y?” naturally sprang to mind. 

The Euro bookend to the Sassicaia was the 2022 Château Rauzan-Ségla Margaux, which Rob described as having moved away from the days of excess everything to a focus on purity and refinement. Although, despite a friendship with the current custodian, everything he described seemed to be unquestionably wrong. Yet, although the hot year and the fact that the bottle I had was slightly corked meant the wine did not yield clarity, it still revealed quality, in the moneyed-multi-generational-luxury-goods Bordeaux way.

The 2024 Ansted & Osicka Balgownie 1970 Block Cabernet Sauvignon, introduced by Simon Osicka, opened the last bracket. The last of a trio made by Osicka and Tobias Ansted, it was a totally different shape to the others, with a more lateral spread of fruit, and a flavour set distinct to the region. What we want, Rob declared at another juncture, is for wines to speak of where they come from. Hardly a revelatory remark, but no less true. 

A respected, bespectacled, mandolin-playing and unusually distinguished wine historian/scribe – whose identity I shall protect – cited a 19th century historical record that described reds from Central Victoria as having a spicy wood-like note, akin to sandalwood. And also, that the Balgownie’s of the 1970s and ’80s were held in particularly high regard, often above now-vaunted contemporaries from across the winegrowing nation.

However, while the likes of Mount Mary justifiably still soar today, those Balgownie vines are destined to be paved over for housing. Part Joni Mitchel, part Pete Seeger. Totally tragic. And while it was asserted that many of those great bottles are extant, our historian countered that while true, they were all being hoarded by Josh Cooper. 

Three wines left: the 2022 Wynns John Riddoch, 2024 Nocturne Sheoak Vineyard and 2023 Woodlands Olivia Josephine. Julian worked at Wynns as a lad, and he is a fawning fan to this day. And rightly so, with the Black Label both outrageously good and outrageously good value. And while the Riddoch has reserve-style trappings, it sits at midweight (13.5 per cent) and requires the benevolent degradation that only time can offer.

Jumping to the end, the Woodlands represented a classic feel, the wine buttressed with classy oak, though more lectern than gallows, the top-drawer Wilyabrup fruit given voice. The Nocturne – Julian’s wine – was so fragrant and present, with mulberries and currants, lavender, potpourri, something of the sandalwood note mentioned earlier but different here, incense like, medium in weight, complex but not complicated, a wine so seductive in fragrance, then so suavely seductive on the palate. 

Is this the wine to convince the unwashed masses? Enlighten the unbelievers that cabernet is the one true path to salvation? At that moment, Aldo shuffled his hulking frame into the room, taking a seat by the door, the 12-bore Purdey boxlock conspicuous under his trench, which was thankfully inconspicuous outerwear on this most coolly cabernet-apt Melbourne day. I had been too long, he was right, the opium-laced tentacles of cabernet had reached deep inside. 

Like Grothendieck’s search for the “heart of the heart” of mathematics, had I seen the inner light of cabernet? Was I too close to the sun? Had I fallen victim to the twin Svengalis, a proselyte drinking their Kool-Aid? Hard to say, but I was not ready to abandon my worldly ways and wander country lanes in monastic robes, foraging for dent de lion and snails. Instead, I shall drink more cabernet, and you should too.