My dad would have turned 77 this week and in celebration I planned to raise a very special glass to his memory, like I look forward to doing on that one special day in October each year. Just myself out in the backyard, gazing up at the stars with my ears filled with some of his favourite music in remembrance for an hour or so, a glass of one of his favourite tipples in hand.
And this year instead of the customary tumbler of scotch ice and soda (J&B Rare was his go to), I picked out a very special bottle with a hugely deep connection with not only the man of the hour but also my family.
But so far in this genius idea I’ve hit a couple of snags. Firstly I’ve found out I don’t have anything in the house to open it and worse than that, I may have left this brilliant idea about ten years too late…
Before we open things up – The Man of the hour
It’s not very often I post something on this blog without a fair idea of how much back story to include because this one is very tricky. I could write about growing up with this larger than life character and the life and times of wine writer Mark Shield (and certainly the many, varied and occasionally hilarious adventures we as a family went on) but I might be here working on this post until his next birthday, such was the scale. Then there’s that feeling in the back of my head suggesting that he’s reading this over my shoulder (I’ll admit that anytime I’ve had moments of spirited driving I’ve imagined him there in the passenger seat reliving his rallying days of old) then he’d be the first to urge me to not focus on him at all and instead get into the story of the wine – for all that he did and achieved long before I was around and for as long as I knew him, he was a fantastically private man.
There’s also my theory that regardless of how much I’ve come to learn about his workings in the wine industry in this country, I feel it’s fair to say that I’ll never know the full extent of the effect that he had on the product of the grape at the time. At his wake, I lost track of how many winemakers who came to my brother and I to share previously unheard stories of his generosity and determination in some very trying times often hitting the road with no pay to get people to try some fantastic home grown fare. Again, he might have been our favourite 6 foot plus red headed viking at home, but he’d leave most of the stories of his glories for others to share when he passed.
(While I’ll also probably never know the full extent of his wine journalism during his lifetime, it’s always been an incredible pleasure meeting people in my travels who appreciated his columns, books and media appearances – getting the cast and crew of the Kerry Anne Kennerly show drunk on Christmas punch one December is a story that never gets tired no matter how many times I view it, likewise I beamed like an idiot when I heard him on my favourite radio station Triple J at the time getting into breakfast drinks with Mikey Robbins, Helen Razer and The Sandman.)
And so in borrowing a tool from his own tool box, allow me to point to others on the World Wide West Web who have done a better and far more concise job in painting some of the picture of what he was and what he did. Gareth Tilly I tip my cap to thee over at Grazing At Large, likewise to Huon Hooke, my dad’s great friend and writing partner for so many years who has quoted a few ‘Shieldisms‘ in his time much to the family’s joy. And it would be criminal not to share links to those with so many tales and adventures with Mark over the years and not include his brother from another mother, fellow blogger and wine scribe Phillip White over at Drinkster (on ya Whitey!)
‘Wine lovers discussing the great bottles they’ve drunk is like locker-room bragging about sexual exploits: if you weren’t there, it’s really not that interesting.”
-Another of dad’s quotes I had no idea existed until I found in while writing this post
The part of the great painting I will add my brushstrokes to though (while Thelonius Monk plays in my headphones as I type this, just as he did while dad wrote) is that I miss him dearly, I wish he could have met his grand kids (and my brother Guy’s kids) and having chewed through plenty of highlights and misadventure in my own media career over the last two decades, I wish we could have traded some more war stories over a glass or two, it’s been over 25 years since I said goodbye, my wish list has grown so much since then.
But at least I can tip a glance to the night sky in his honour though…provided I can get the bottle open and it hasn’t turned into vinegar for sitting for too long. Because according to the notes, the best time for this idea was actually ten years ago..
The wine of choice
At this point in time I’m very grateful that in the pruning of my email accounts over the years, I never got rid of any family correspondence no matter how minor. Because a quick search has updated the origin of my little collection of Yarrawonga Estate Mark Shield Shiraz’s I’ve had with me since…(checks email) 2007!
Again in highlighting what a wonderful and caring bunch of people the Australian wine industry is made of, shortly after his passing a few wine makers banded together and created a couple of wines in his name, namely the order only Writers Block Mark 1 Shiraz and Writers Block Mark 2 Grenache:
The many readers of the late Mark Shield’s idiosyncratic writings on wine have the chance to purchase two typically rich and opulent Barossa Valley red wines made by a collective of wine scribes in his memory: Writer’s Block Mark I (a shiraz) and Mark II (a grenache). The fruit for these wines was grown at Seppeltsfield and donated by Seppelt, while they were made at Rockford by a team that included Huon Hooke, Philip White and Stephen Balme. Hooke reckons the shiraz can cellar for 15 years, the grenache for 10. Proceeds from the sales will contribute towards the education of Shield’s two sons. The wines are packed in cartons of six, at $40 per bottle. Fax orders to Seppeltsfield on 08 8562 8333, with contact, delivery and credit card details.
Those proceeds gave us so much opportunity, was such a help for my family (my incredible mother Alison now raising two teenage boys on her own which couldn’t have been easy), helped send me to uni to study radio (and still in it today close to 25 years now) and my brother Guy to study graphic design, where he now designs freelance and has worked from everyone from Disney to Netflix. So to say the sales just gave us a bit of life boost would been a massive understatement – I was told dad rarely accepted thanks, so they helped us out in his passing which we’re all incredibly grateful for.
And in the back of my head for some time I thought these Shiraz’s that have gone from Bendigo to the Gold Coast and then back to Albury NSW where I type this now with all our family adventures were part of that initial private order release. But no, these were actually another tribute wine in his honour, from his good mate Bill Jane from Yarrawonga Estate. From mum’s email ‘All reds – 2004 and 2005 Mark Shield Shiraz and 2004 and 2005 Cab Sav/Merlot/Cab Franc, all with a nice back label explaining how Mark recommended they plant those varieties.’
This one you could buy in the stores although Bill delivered a couple of boxes to mum so she could try the first batch and my little collection stemmed from that. Over the years I’ve opened a couple for truly momentous occasions worth celebrating (I recall buying a house was the last time) but it’s been quite some time since I’d popped the cork on one, so why not for remembering Mark on his birthday? (Even though according to the label it was probably best about 10 years ago.)
All I had to do was find a corkscrew first. Easier said than done.
Does anyone know how to do this?
Thanks to the amazing lessons from both my mum Alison and dad before I left home, I was well equipped with the basics as soon as I set off to forge my career: I could change a tire, I could wire up and change a house fuse, I could open a bottle of wine with a corkscrew. (For the record I haven’t had to wire up and change a house fuse since my early 20s..) But it never failed to amuse me how many people I met that would look at a cork in a bottle of wine, look at the strange curly metal thing recommended to get said cork out and then hand me both the bottle and implement and hope for the best.
I think I missed it but undoubtedly there was a huge sigh of relief across the nation when screw topped wines over corks slowly started to become the norm back in the early 2000s. Not an issue for me obviously, with a waiters friend in the gadget draw in every rental I ever stayed in.
Except this one strangely.
‘Have you seen the bottle opener?’ I asked my wife earlier, going through every gadget collection we have here with no luck. The 2005 Shiraz was the screw top era, the 2004 I wanted to open was earlier with cork in place.
‘I think I threw it out a couple of years ago because it was getting rusty..’ came the reply. While it was basic, I’m sure it was stainless steel but anyway.. And so needing to pick up some groceries, I figured the local supermarket would have a simple waiter’s friend in ample supply.
But the implement section of IGA bared no fruit and weirdly, neither did the liquor section. ‘We have one behind the counter, but we don’t sell them’ explained the girl behind the counter. A quick glance around the stocks showed an ocean of screw tops explaining the lack of the kitchen drawer favourite.
And so my daughter Sophie and I walked around the corner to the Thirsty Camel drive in bottle shop where I found a couple of wines with corks, but again couldn’t buy an actual opener for them.
‘We can open a bottle here, but we don’t sell openers.’ The guy there explained. Am I to imagine then people asking to have the cork removed from their purchase before they go home so they don’t have to do the removal legwork themselves? Obviously as corks disappeared, so did the handy tool and I’ve been oblivious to things since then. Welcome to the 2024 bottle shop, where you can buy everything except what you need to open a bottle (what a sobering thought.)
A quick blurt on my phone revealed Bunnings do sell them, really fancy ones too like this stylish effort:
Buuuuut, you’ve got to order them in. And honestly, I don’t need a bottle opener that wouldn’t look out of place in a oligarchs three level marble clad cellar, just something that’ll take a cork out with little effort. Luckily Dan Murphy’s was just a click down the road and even better, they had a few in stock that weren’t more expensive than a decent bottle of Shiraz. And so $7.95 later and making history being the first time exiting the establishment without a bottle in hand, I finally have a cork screw bottle opener handy (this glorious bit of kit being the first picture in this post).
And I’ve barred my wife from going anywhere near it, lest I have to journey across this wide country next year to find another one.
Happy birthday dad
You’d think the son of a wine and spirits journalist would have a bounty of wine glasses on hand but pictured above you’re looking at the sole survivor of a wedding set gifted by my good mate Alex from years ago and that’s the only glass with a stem left.
And so after dinner with my brother in law and his men’s group, I came home, popped on my jacket in case the night air was a little on the bracing side, loaded up some music dad loved and went from there to wish him a happy birthday.
THE PLAYLIST
Concert for the 50th anniversary of Tubular Bells – Dad loved (and blasted a lot in the Datsun 260z) Mike Oldfield’s epic original Tubular Bells on cassette. But thanks to my brother Guy discovering this almost note perfect concert recently, I chose this instead as it’s just as good. Even after all this time of playing it endlessly, I find it such an incredible composition and I’m always anticipating every change across the journey even though I’ve experienced it hundreds of times before.
Miles Davis – Generique. As big a Miles Davis fan as dad was, I don’t recall ever hearing this coming out of the Akai sound system in the back office of the house at any stage. But since I discovered a couple of years back and fell it love with it, I figured it would be fitting enough. From the soundtrack to L’ascenseur pour l’échafaud (Lift to the gallows), it’s such a serene, deeply expressive and yet hauntingly brilliant track that fuels so many moods. Wonderful.
The Doors – The End (50th anniversary remastered version). The most epic and ultimate goodbye song. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve played this particular track for his birthday drinks, usually with a track of two from Jimi Hendrix which he also cherished.
SO HERE’S TO CHEERS THEN
Enjoyment of wine, enjoyment of automotive, in depth knowledge of anything and everything to do with the grape. Two of those I inherited from dad, the last though sadly wasn’t really one of them. I can tell a red from a white, a Merlot from a merlittle and I know about FEW (Fruit, Earth and Wood – one of the greatest lessons in my limited wine education actually comes from this brilliant podcast chat Tim Ferris had with Richard Betts). But with my nasal senses coming and going with the tides (or flu season) and still recovering from surgery earlier this year, my tasting notes on this bottle would be like a trainee Volvo mechanic attempting to provide a passionate dissertation on the inner workings of Mozart’s mind when he hit a spot of writers block.
I will say that the first sip was watery and I had that impending gloomy feeling that I’d well and truly left the run on this one well too late. However subsequent sips brought things back to a wine drinking level (ie one I could appreciate) with a sense that it had lost a handful of it’s original horsepower over time but was generally okay. I got a hint of plum without the pepper but couldn’t pick up any outstanding scents (again that’s probably me and not the bottle.) But then I wasn’t here to critique this beautiful tribute, I was out there well past my usual bedtime to salute my own Mr Mojo Rising, so I focused on that instead.
And so with just Willow the Border Collie for company (the cat popped up at one stage with her usual look of disinterest before wandering off to find some more dinner), I slipped into the music and sipped into the glorious red while scanning the night’s sky for the brightest star I could find. At one stage the kids popped out and wished ‘Grandpa Waldo’ a happy birthday which was incredibly heartening. During a Door’s crescendo my wife checked to see if I was okay (bless her) and offered up a home baked choc chip cookie (not something the labelled suggested pairing with this drop sadly.) When the music ended I was halfway through the bottle and decided it was safer to stop there, especially with a 4:30am alarm call and a show to do the next day.
Not that I slept much – half a bottle and straight to bed, almost two hours past my usual nod off time. I tossed and turned like a ship in a storm and stared at the alarm with barely held scorn when it sang it’s little wake up song. But I wasn’t going to miss my tradition of having a drink with him on his birthday, tool to remove corks and an in date bottle of wine or not. Mission accomplished and slightly more prepared for next year.
Happy birthday Mark Shield. Onya dad.
-Love Al