Most of the wine produced in Australia is grown in the fertile valleys of South Australia. The industry is one of the things keeping the economy of this out-of-the-way region viable. As such, it's hard NOT to end up on a wine tasting tour.
After taking the commuter train into the center of Adelaide, we had intended to focus on the city's excellent Botanic Gardens and then have a wander around the restaurant district, looking for just the perfect place for a meal out, then maybe taking in a museum afterwards. We did do that, but not before we noticed that the nearest entrance to the Botanic Gardens is home to the National Wine Center of Australia.
The National Wine Center has 100+ wines to sample on tap
along with a lot of wine info to ponder - we had a great tour.
It is not a vineyard or a winery, per se, but rather an information/education/event center, combined with a vast collection from virtually every producer in the country. It's like the U.S. Library of Congress, only for wine. We took the educational tour, which succeeded in thoroughly impressing us with South Australia's growing conditions. Most interesting to me was learning about Pylloxera.
Phylloxera is an aphid species that has been wreaking havoc on vineyards around the world. Many of the world's wine regions have had to cope with this by destroying their crops and starting anew with more resistant species of grape. A very few have been able to splice resistant varieties into older, less resistant vines to protect them. So far, South Australia has managed to avoid invasion of Phylloxera. Because of this, South Australia has the oldest producing vine stock in the world by a big margin. Nowhere else have we seen such an abundance of wines produced from seventy-five or hundred year-old vines. Some vineyards are still producing very special batches from their original vines, planted in the 1860s.
After the educational tour, we went downstairs to the wine tasting room. Not surprisingly, it is the largest in Australia. When we were there, they had 112 samples to taste. Instead of a bartender, the room has fourteen automated machines connected to eight bottles each. Each machine focused on a certain variety or region. They gave us a card, like in a casino, which we inserted into each machine as we moved through our tasting. Then we could pick our wine and the size of the pour (from a wee splash to a full glass). Most of the normally priced wines were about three dollars for a taste. The expensive stuff could go for $20, or $120 for a whole glass.
The way the place is set up, it's easy to pick a representative from each machine and have a taste, but there is a strong feeling that you're missing something if you don't collect all fourteen. That's how they get ya! We still had a lot of walking around planned for the day and even fourteen tastes was way too many, so we had to decide what we would have to skip. Obviously, a comprehensive wine education is going to take more than a day. We ended up sharing something like eight, which wasn't too expensive and allowed us to enjoy The Botanic Gardens without staggering, but we were still filled with a warm sense of good cheer. That also could have been because it's always nice to take a leisurely walk through leafy green spaces in on a sunny weekend day. When we were done, we headed to the restaurant district.
{Maryanne: We were also amazed to learn that South Australia produces over half of all a the Australian wine drunk in Australia (with Victoria being a close second), and of all the wine exported from Australia - that is a big wine punch from just one state! For more interesting Australian wine facts you can check out WineAustralia.com}.
We loved roaming around the Botanic Garden
Including its several conservatories AND a splendid old style 'Museum of Economic Botany'
One note about or meal. We were walking through town, perusing menus, when Maryanne spotted a picturesque-looking balcony. Adelaide has lots of wrought iron, giving it a distinctly New Orleans vibe. The place she saw was for a second-story restaurant (BRKLYN, named after the New York City subway stop) that was suspiciously vacant, except for two other patrons. That is usually not a good sign, but we were tired and decided it was probably because the entrance was a bit hidden and there was no menu posted down there at street level, meaning prospective diners like us would have to climb the stairs just to see what they have on offer.
The menu wasn't too adventurous, but I found something I would eat – a chook burger. (Chook is what Aussies call chicken because 'chicken' obviously has too many syllables). When asked how I wanted it, I asked for 'extra spicy'.
Then it started. I've been through this dance before. “Are you sure?”, the woman taking my order asked, “It's pretty spicy.”
Sure it is. I insisted that I indeed wanted it that hot, even hotter if they can do it. This is usually when they agree and then put medium on the slip because I don't look Indian or Thai or Mexican or whatever their culinary genre. Either that or the kitchen will tone it down because nobody really likes their food that hot.
I stopped just short of using my friend Geoffrey's trick, which I have found quite effective myself. He will tell his server, “Go to the chef, look them in the eye, and tell them I think they don't know how to make hot food.” Geoffrey is a real lightweight compared to me. As soon as she left to put my order in, I regretted not taking it up a notch.
Well, that chicken burger ended up being probably the second spiciest thing I have ever eaten in a restaurant (First was the Brick Lane Curry House in Manhattan). It was marvelous! The agony was liberating. When we left, I waited around the kitchen for an awkward five minutes after our server went in to retrieve the chef.
When he emerged, looking impatient and busy, I told him the story of my typical experience, along with my regret at not passing on the message that he does not know how to make hot food. At this point, he started to look a little annoyed, but only a little. He was steeling himself to be polite to an irritating patron.
Then I said, “But you, YOU know how to make hot food!” At that, a broad smile cleared the expression off of his face like clouds parting after a storm. He was all handshakes and high-fives now. As we left, he waved us goodbye like we were on a departing ship. I fear he's never been thanked before for his skill. Please, if you want some food with some zing in it, go to BRKLYN. You won't be disappointed.
Ambling around Adelaide: 5th largest city in Australia
Population 1.3 million, and a Mediterranean climate
Maryanne: As you can see, Kyle focused on the food! I 'dragged' him around the South Australia Museum on top of the other sites and we returned home to the boat very late! We had just one day in the city as Kyle had already spied a window to depart. As always there was so much more I'd have loved to have done; regardless I have to keep pinching myself at how lucky we are to be 'stuck' in Australia during the global COVID pandemic, that we are able to do any of this is amazing and privileged.
No comments:
Post a Comment