The grapes for the wine came from Block 5 of the Ben Ean estate vineyard that encircles the (long disused) winery. The wine was matured in used French oak for 18 months, with no whole bunch or other tricks. The vintage was the first of an exceptional run of ’11, ’14, ’17, ’18 and ’19, when the rain held off and the fruit harvested at optimum ripeness – a cliche, but true, witnessed by the alcohol of 13.5%. It was a single bottle (screwcapped) and I opened it thinking it might provide some insight into the future of the glorious ’18 vintage. You can only open a great bottle once, and it’s better you do it then some other bastard.
The colour is still deep crimson-purple, with not even a hint of change towards brick. The richness of the array of the black fruits – berry, cherry, you name it – of the bouquet are but foreplay for a medium to full-bodied palate of liquid velvet. It fills every corner and crevice of the mouth, the finish and aftertaste playing a vinous melody. This will breeze through a minimum of 30 more years. It’s a midpoint of the freakish ’65 Bins 3100 and 3110, and those glorious ’18s with a 50-year future.
My original tasting note made in March 2013 (when the RRP was $49.99): Historically the bin number finishing with 00 was the best of the vintage. Deep crimson, this is a throwback to Lindemans’ glory days: not quite to the freakish ’65 Bins 3100 and 3110 that stand unchallenged, but I only wish I could live long enough to see this full-bodied, black-fruited wine peak 30 or so years hence.
96 points, drink to 2045
