Oh My Syrah

It all started with a party. After a tasting where Maksym showed up with a load of old bottles, we ended up at his place to continue the feast. At some point, he pulled out a 2005 Hermitage from Marc Sorrel. And, classically, we decanted it in a one-litre mason jar. And that wine hit me just right - maybe it was the alcohol talking, but I asked him to get me a bottle too. Figured I'd either share it with people... or not, depending on how things go.

Well before that night, I'd already picked up a Hermitage from Chapoutier and a bottle of Syrah from Timo Mayer. And for months, I kept wondering what to do with them - none of them quite fit into any lineup, and drinking them solo felt like a waste. But then, in Moldova, I randomly came across a bottle of Syrah from Romania (of course). And that's when it clicked: why not do a varietal tasting? As Oleksandr (the one we're always raising money for, so he can keep building drones) pointed out, I rarely do tastings centred on a single grape.

I knew everyone was a bit tired of all the drinking lately, but I told myself: even if no one shows up - or just one person - I'm opening these bottles. I'm not about to make an old Syrah suffer through a summer in storage. So any "maybe postpone?" messages got deferred to other tastings.

And in the end, I'm glad we did it. Glad people showed up. And especially glad it wasn't a crowd - smaller group, more focus. Just what these wines deserved.

Shape-sifter

Syrah is a shape-shifter. It can go from taut and peppery to lush and meaty, depending on where and how it's grown. Its spiritual home is the northern Rhône - Hermitage, Côte-Rôtie, Cornas - where it shows depth, tannic spine, and a sense of age-worthiness that few other reds can rival. But it's also a grape that's travelled far: from Australia's more sun-soaked takes to high-altitude plots, volcanic soils, or borderline climates where it still somehow makes sense. When done right, it balances savoury and fruit, structure and drinkability. And it rewards close attention.

Tomislav Marković Syrah 2022

Not your average German Syrah. Tomislav Marković started in finance before moving into wine via Volnay and a stint with Domaine de Montille - and that Burgundian discipline shows. Since 2015, he's been building a tiny, exacting domaine split between Baden and Rheinhessen, farming biodynamically (but pragmatically), and producing just a few thousand bottles a year.

Violets, ripe cherry, blackberry, tobacco - all wrapped in a very elegant, perfumed lift. There's a touch of black pepper too. Green tannins frame the wine firmly, and the acidity holds it upright. Overall it's powerful and intense, but not flashy - this is a serious, disciplined wine that doesn't beg for attention. It just commands it. But yeah, too young.

Timo Mayer Syrah 2020

Yarra Valley, Australia. Timo is something of a cult figure - German-born, now making lo-fi, whole-bunch reds in Victoria. While most of Australia leans big and bold, Mayer's wines are light on their feet, spicy, and almost Euro in spirit. This Syrah is typically 100% whole-bunch, fermented wild, unfined/unfiltered. Stems are part of the story - giving it lift, crunch, and a wild herbal edge. No flash, just tension.

Wow, what a lush and beautiful nose. Strawberry jam, redcurrant, rosehip, spice, blood, cured meat, medicinal herbs - and a touch of leather. On the palate it's juicy and dangerously drinkable, with just enough tension to keep things interesting. Herbs and compote roll across the tongue, and the tannins - soft as velvet - hold it all in place. Not much acidity, but the balance is spot on. Bloody in the most beautiful way (no irony, just iron). Delicious.

Crama Ferdi Mister S. Ediţie limitată 2021

From Dealu Mare, Romania - a region better known for international grapes than local ones, and one of the few places where Syrah is making a dent. Crama Ferdi is a tiny, experimental winery, known for blending oak, extract, and ambition in equal parts. This Syrah is dense, spicy, and leans into ripeness, but still has enough structure to hold it. Ferdi's wines often divide opinion - and that's the point. This is Syrah pushed into a bigger, louder register.

Fascinating how this one unfolds. It starts off all about spice and bitter almond - almost austere - but then the fruit kicks in: ripe cherry, vanilla, liquorice. And just when you think that's it, the floral notes creep in quietly. A compelling evolution in the glass. It leans a bit jammy, dense and ripe, with plenty of spice, but there's just enough structure to keep it upright. Intense and tasty - no doubt - though it doesn't quite stretch into complexity. As it's too oaked and too young. Still, a ride worth taking.

Chapoutier Monier de la Sizeranne Hermitage 2017

A classic from a heavyweight. Chapoutier farms biodynamically (at scale), and Sizeranne is their main Hermitage parcel - mostly granite and clay-limestone, on the western slope. 2017 was a warm, early vintage, but Hermitage still brings muscle. Expect black olive, violets, dark fruit, and that telltale iron-mineral grip. Ageing is in large barrels, aiming for clarity over makeup. This is the polished, reliable face of Hermitage.

Violet, blackberry liqueur, olive tapenade, cracked pepper, smoked meat - this hits with northern Rhône energy but feels more refined than rustic. There's spice, but it's not brash; oak, but it whispers. The tannins are firm yet civilised, acidity moderate, and the texture glycerol-smooth without veering into excess. A graphite-mineral edge brings just enough grit to keep it honest. Warm, poised, and quietly confident.

Marc Sorrel Hermitage 2005

A rare beast. Sorrel was one of the old-school traditionalists in Hermitage - tiny domaine, working just a few parcels, vinifying with minimal fuss. 2005 was a strong, structured vintage. This is aged Syrah done right: leather, blood, forest floor, with tannins still alive but integrated. Zero flash. The kind of wine that teaches patience and restraint. Sorrel passed away in 2022; these bottles are becoming harder to find - and more meaningful.

Earthy black cherry and tobacco leaf set the tone, but it quickly deepens - dried herbs, pepper, a hint of charcuterie and iodine, then forest floor and old leather. There's even a whiff of pickles that oddly fits. It echoes something Stella would do - that quaffable and beautiful interplay of wildness and restraint. The tannins are already mature and the structure is there: firm, iron-laced, grounded. The finish is long, savoury, quietly arresting. Complex and delicious, no doubt about it.

Françoise Martinot Bistrøtage Affinage Prolongé Rosé B.11 NV

Well then - this is not your average rosé. More like a fever dream of uzvar and dried apricots, laced with mushroom broth, strawberries, orange zest, and wet chalk. It's salty, quite oxidised, deeply mineral. The finish stretches out like an echo in a cave - long, haunting, and utterly distinctive. A singular wine, and honestly, obscenely delicious.

UWC Samos Vin Naturellement Doux 1958

Same impression as last time - this wine astonishes and enchants. I love sweet wines like this, as long as there's enough acidity to hold the sugar in check. And here, there absolutely is. The saltiness just amplifies the pleasure. The finish? Perfect.

Inky in colour and thick like Esencia (if not thicker). The nose is a strange and fascinating swirl: eucalyptus, Marmite, tar soap, raisins, dried figs, coffee and dates with a flicker of VA. Yes, it's intensely sweet, but the piercing acidity and savoury saltiness keep it vivid, not cloying. Layered and persistent. A wine to sip like medicine - in tiny, reverent doses.

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