Aussie winemaker Peter Lehmann talks to Andrew Jefford of the German emigration that changed the face of South Australia's Barossa Valley.
Big is brutal? With 80 per cent of the Australian wine industry controlled by four monolithic companies, it can sometimes seem as if the 'little blokes' don't count for much in the sprawling winefields of South Australia. It's not true of course: that other 20 per cent is in thousands of juice-stained hands and it's where most of Australia's greatest wines come from. It's also why Peter Lehmann Wines exist. The man himself was born in the heart of the Barossa Valley at Angaston. His father was a Lutheran pastor. Lutheran? Lehmann? Yes, the main source of early immigration to this region was not English or Scottish, but Prussian. Five generations ago, it was German you'd hear spoken in the vineyards; indeed sometimes it still is. Peter Lehmann's wine label owes its origins to an immoral decision by a big company - not to buy, in 1977, the grapes from local growers as it had promised. That company was Saltram, Peter Lehmann's employer; he was so mortified that he bought the grapes himself. When Saltram was sold to Seagram two years later, Lehmann left and hasn't looked back. He's now almost retired, but
business for him and his many grower-shareholders has never been better: together they produce almost half a million cases a year. Seagram, by contrast, is now an ex-wine producer. Whatever happens to those fickle giants, the Lehmann lesson is that the 'little blokes' will endure.
So, Peter, did your dad preach against the evils of the demon drink?
No, Mum and Dad loved a glass. Lutherans are Protestants, but they're not against drink, thank goodness. It was Luther himself who's meant to have said that "he who loves not women, wine and song remains a fool his whole life long." The reason the Lutherans came to Australia was because the king of Prussia, Friedrich Wilhelm III, decreed that his subjects should follow the order of worship laid down by Calvin. That would have been serious, because Calvin was certainly anti-grog. Most of Dad's parishioners were on the land and a high percentage of those were grape growers, so they always had their wine. Principally before the meal in those days - in fact, when I started in the industry, 97 per cent of the wine made was fortified.
So what changed?
From the Sixties, our patterns of immigration changed; more southern Europeans came to Australia, and they altered our eating and
our drinking habits. My dad always enjoyed a
dry red, but it was kept for special occasions. Nowadays, of course, it's almost all table wines.
Was it just a bit of luck that the Barossa turned out to be such a great wine area?
Maybe. It certainly is a remarkable area. I always say that it is more Mediterranean than the Mediterranean itself. A lot of this region's strength is in its dependability. In 2002, for example, we had a great vintage while cooler regions such as Coonawarra and the Adelaide Hills had really difficult weather conditions. We have got some great soils in this area, from the gravels in the Eden Valley to sandy loam and heavy clay, and there's limestone here, too, as you can tell by the fact that we have both a cement factory and a marble quarry.
And what about your celebrated growers?
They're everything. We grow less than two per cent of our own requirements; the rest comes from about 190 local growers. Some of
these people are seventh-generation Prussian stock, and they feel that their role in life is to look after that plot of dirt that they have and then hand it on to their kids in slightly better shape after they've gone.
Such as who?
There's a family called Boehm, for example.
Old Gordon Boehm was quite a character who hardly drank at all. His passion was trotting horses and the church. The family went through a helluva period when farming was hardly sustainable - once they'd paid for their materials, picking costs and everything else, all they had to survive on was the smell of an oily rag. Now Gordon's son, Chris, is doing well, and his sons, Jason and Jim, are going to divide the property, although that will mean it will still be viable at 60 acres each.
Another strong family is called Rohrlach. The father, old Ted Rohrlach, has departed this vale of tears, as they say, but his three sons work together in harmony. They're by far our biggest growers, with in excess of 300 acres; staunch Lutherans, again. Sundays at vintage time, they take out a couple of hours to go to church, then they get changed again and get back into the vineyards. If you drive around the Barossa and you see a heap of cars outside a church, you can bet your bottom dollar that it is Lutheran.
So why don't they want to make their own wine?
Well, some have made their own. But we've forged a good partnership down the years; they are our peers. They are the expert vignerons and we are the expert winemakers. And it's their winery; a lot of the growers are shareholders. It's a community that shares the same goals.
So what's with the playing-card labels?
Well as you know, we are
a company that came about by accident, because of what happened with Saltram. At that time, when we were looking for a name, many
of us, including my wife Margaret, were big fans of the writings of Damon Runyon. So we said, "Why don't
we call it 'Masterson'?" - after Sky Masterson from Guys and Dolls, who was a bit of a
gambler. That was how it came about, and Rod Schubert, who designed the label, told me the queen of clubs was the gambler's card. I told him that sometimes the two of diamonds could be the gambler's card, but anyway we stuck with it. We're very fond
of card games, Margaret and I. We play cribbage every day. In fact we took on the champions of Wales one time, and beat them. In fun, of course.
You've made 55 harvests now, Peter. Are things very different from when you first began?
I certainly hope so. We've got much more knowledge about the wine-making process now, we've got better equipment, refrigeration, tons of oak storage - all these factors have improved our wines out of sight. But we're still struggling to improve further. It's an idiot who says that he has made his best wine.
Any remaining ambitions?
Well, I don't see myself drinking the whole of my cellar, but I'd certainly like to make a bloody big dent in it before I go. No, seriously, I just hope that the company stays in the same hands. We've got terrific staff: none of this could be achieved without them. And we've got the growers. My eldest son is now managing director, but hell, Margaret's my real managing director anyway. I'll still be around. Someone might ask me if I want a temporary job at vintage time. I hope to be around and active for a few years yet...
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THE BARGAIN
Linden Tree Merlot 2001 Povardarski, Macedonia
Bin 93577; £3.69
Eastern Europe has struggled
over the last decade to stay in competitive touch with the rest
of the wine world, but wines like this ambitious Merlot from the former Yugoslav republic of Macedonia show that time and
a little investment can send wine quality soaring. It's dark, it's pure, it's vigorous, it has a faintly herby edge to its dark sloe fruits:
serious red wine for an almost frivolously low price.
THE SAFE BET
Monasterio de Santa Ana Monastrell 2001 Jumilla, Spain
Bin 62660; £4.99
Nick Room, the Spanish-wine buyer for Waitrose, has managed to gather together an outstanding range of wines for this autumn, and this finely crafted Monastrell (the grape variety that the French call Mourvèdre) is as elegant a red wine as you can hope to find for
a fiver. This has a haunting, moreish quality, with an exotic floral edge to its damson fruits; the acid balance for a wine of this strength (13.5 per cent abv) makes it a fine food choice, too.
THE TREAT
Fiano de Avellino 2001 Feudi di San Gregorio, Campania, Italy
Bin 44279; £9.99
This beautifully labelled wine will come as a suprise if, like me, you've always been rude about the submissive and evanescent qualities of the typical Italian white. Fiano is the name of the grape variety; Avellino is the zone in Campania where it comes from. Pale straw-gold in colour, its intense yet unusual scents remind me of ripe melon and dried papaya. It's arrestingly flavoured, too, with all the sinew and thrust of wholly different flavour range - summer vegetables and shy quince and pear fruits rather than hazel and acacia. Like most Italian wines, it's very food-friendly, and becomes especially amorous (as luck would have it) with chicken and turkey.
Get tasting
Peter Lehmann of the Barossa Valley
Peter Lehmann Clancy's Shiraz/Cabernet Sauvignon/Merlot/Cabernet Franc 2000, South Australia
BIN 25952; £6.99
This blend makes a great introduction to the Lehmann range and to its
distinctive Barossa style of ripe red fruits and peppery, full-throttle power. The name refers to one of the poems of the great Australian original Banjo Paterson about a wayward drover last heard of making for Queensland.
Peter Lehmann Shiraz 2000 Barossa Valley, South Australia
BIN 36250; £7.99 (£6.49 in December)
The Queen of Clubs beams out from the label of this classic Shiraz as, glass in hand, she has every reason to do. It's dark, it smells of pliant vanilla
pods and rummaged earth, and it tastes ripe, tangy, slightly salty, with a caressingly soft, grateful balance that entirely eludes most of its rivals.
If there's a better Australian red at the price, I've yet to taste it.
Peter Lehmann Stonewell Shiraz 1996/97 Barossa Valley, South Australia
BIN 06316; £30;available from Kingston, Canary Wharf and Wine Direct Only.
Once fermented, this wine is stowed in the cellars, in wood and then in
glass, for five years before emerging like a shy hefty mole into the daylight.
A combination of both French and American oak, plus those 60 quiet months, help create serenely voluptuous scents of blackberries and tar.
The flavours turn up the tannic power - yet this is Barossa, remember, which means that those tannins have all the rasp of a chamois leather. Lushly savoury, this is the most comforting and comfortable of Australian fine wines.
This article was first published online in December 2002. Prices correct at time of publication.