One could put a portion of the blame on our Texas summers. Had it been cool, I would have been wearing a jacket. If I were wearing a jacket I would have had a pocket in which to put the little Hugh Johnson wine book. If I had been carrying the little Johnson book with me I would have looked up the Australian section. There I would have discovered that in 2003, South Australian Shiraz wines were a veritable disaster. Then, I wouldn't have loaded the bottle into my cart. But, this is Texas, and I didn't have it, so I did. ;-)
The label reads "Penfolds Regional Selection Shiraz Coonawarra 2003" That much information was enough to pique my interest, because of its unfamiliarity. When I go into a restaurant, I always scan the menu for something that I DON'T recognize and then order it. Through the years, I have not broadened my culinary horizons by always seeking the familiar and repeating the same choices, as most people do.
This was by no means the worst Shiraz that I have ever tasted. The wine maker should deserve some commendation for making something this palatable, when Mother Nature was doing her worst. It was quite thin, and the Tannin had a slightly sour edge to it. The body was not such that a spoon could stand up straight if inserted into the glass. Yet, the nose had a hint of the glories that "might have" been present, had the weather been more cooperative.
I pan broiled a boneless entrecote to go with it. Inasmuch as I was not oohing and aahing over what I tasted, I didn't hesitate to finish it off with a half glass of the wine just before taking the meat out of the iron skillet. One could term it a Poor Man's Marchand de Vin, minus the customary green onions. It had been some time since I had purchased the crinkle cut French Fries (are we permitted to say that yet, or does Political Correctness still insist upon "Freedom Fries?") that are finished in the reflective cardboard box for four minutes in the microwave. I usually avoid any prepared foods, but I must admit that in this case I couldn't have done better myself.
On the Davis 20 point scale, I must award a 14.
Godzilla