Extract from The May 2005 South
Australian Tour Diaries We arrived at Seppeltsfield and went
into the office; this place looks like something that is straight out of
Charles Dickens. Antique bankers’ lamps on top of clerks stand up writing
tables, old-fashioned overhead light fixtures; the only thing that was under
100 years old was the receptionist!
Seppeltsfield
is more than just a place that is steeped in over 150 years of Australian wine
history; this is a unique, living, breathing museum and probably the most
historically important wine site in Australia
Strong words indeed and this is no rant. Whilst many people will have tasted many of the fine Seppelt fortified wines, there is so much more to this place than what is found in the bottle. Yes, the bottles contents can be anything from good to the ultimate sensual wine experience, but it is what is behind the bottle that makes it so special and if Fosters screw with that, they will not only have raped the product, Fosters will have pillaged and plundered a unique part of our wine heritage that can never be replaced.
Our appointment was with the God Father and custodian of this unique enterprise, James Godfrey who is also known as the fortified wine maker but lets go back to the beginning.
Hop in the time machine and head back to 1851. It took forward thinking and guts to leave your homeland and venture off into the unknown in those times; even if things were not exactly rosy in the “old country”. Joseph Seppelt, an immigrant from Poland, was just such a person; he purchased land in the Barossa, named it after himself, and decided to grow a few grapes. In those times, families had to be as self sufficient as possible. None of this popping down to the supermarket for a few spuds and bit of rump steak; you wanted it and you either had to grow it, or barter for it, with your own produce, so old Joseph had a mixed farm. At that time, there wasn’t any such thing as “the pill” or synthetic condoms, so old Joe prolifically produced more than just grapes.
Now young
Benno (with a name like that, it looks like the uniquely Australian way of
bastardising and changing names started early
) was a pretty smart chip of the old block and wound up being “the main man” of
the family. By 1878 he was doing his own thing, and had a radical idea. He went
to the Mrs and said, “Hay Mrs S, we have mucho barrels of good port every year;
why don’t we put down a barrel every year and leave it for a 100 years?”
Many people think about putting down a few bottles for their kids 21st but I told you Benno was a forward thinker like his old man; why settle for 21 years when you are dealing with top port? Much better to think long term, (they not worried about maximising quarterly stock market yields in those days;) let the great, great, great grandkids have something incredibly special to celebrate their family heritage.
And so a tradition was born. As time went on, it quickly became apparent that one barrel would not be enough, they needed extra material for topping up purposes so three barrels became the norm, at the end of 100 years there is only the one barrel left, the other two have replace thed evaporation from the "master" barrel, no wonder it has a syrupy consistency and concentrated flavour. Like all great traditions, it is continued today, long after the last family member has left the firm.
Benno was a pretty eccentric dude, none of your baseball caps, or even an Akubra for this guy. Like the American Express card of today, legend has it that Benno never left home without “it”; it being a violin and an umbrella. Even stranger, when you consider that he used to get around the place on the white horse, what a sight he would be galloping off to do the weekly shopping.
Benno’s eccentricity didn't end there. Towards the end of the 18th century, there was a severe economic depression and Benno’s philanthropy came to the fore. Workers mightn't have had the unions to stand up for them in those days, but those working for Seppelt didn't need one; old Benno didn't lay off a single worker. Workers decided that a good way of prettying the joint up was to plant a few trees (there were even greenies back then,) and they propagated the date palm seeds from the two trees next to the Homestead. By way of saying thanks, over a period of time, two trees became two thousand. If you visit Seppeltsfield, you will see most of them are still there today.
But Seppelt's is so much more than 100 year old port and date palm trees. Once we met James Godfrey and exchanged pleasantries, we hung a left out of the office, walked past the original Seppelt family home; then we were surrounded by elm trees and a rainforest like garden. We proceeded over the small bridge that spans the creek; up the hill, and finally the padlocks were removed from the huge, old, sliding winery door. If you ever drive past the south side of Seppeltsfield, you will notice a large, (frankly bloody ugly) old structure, painted in some revolting shade of “heritage yellow” that has been built on terraced levels. The design of this building is no accident and was a very practical and cunning bit of design work, especially so when you consider how long ago it was built.
Built way before there were modern fandangled conveniences like electricity, this working winery was designed to take advantage of the technology of the time, gravity, and when available, a bit of steam power and chain drives. Although the winery is no longer used, it could become fully functional again with ease, all the basic structure is there, and only some of the furnishings would be required.
As James explained how the place functioned, standing at the back of the winery on the top deck, I felt like I was magically transported back in time and could see and smell the winemaking in progress. The steam pumps thrumming away amongst a cacophony of competing sounds; the sweat-soaked workers cleaning must out of the bins with shovels: the smells of fermenting grape juice making one feel light-headed in the enclose space – all this and so much more. The inside of the winery might be grey, but there is nothing boring about this building that is steeped in history.
From there, we went back down the hill a little way and to a room that defies description. The old winery had some padlocks on it, but this door was like Fort Knox, and no wonder! It was a barrel shed, but unlike any other barrel shed I have ever seen. Inside the old bluestone sellers is 9,000,000 litres of fortified wine slowly maturing; 12,000,000 bottles is one hell of a lot of hangovers! The barrels are literally stacked in a pyramid from floor-to-ceiling and unlike other wineries these are not on racks, as they are rarely moved. There are wooden chocks between each barrel to separate them from the ones above and the ones below. There is one other major difference between the barrels in this winery and most other wineries. In most wineries, you will see some new or fairly new oak, not here, these barrels look ancient. It certainly was an impressive sight.
From there we moved
back down the hill into what could only be described as a museum. As a child
growing up, our Sunday evening family junk food treat for the week would be a trip
to the local Bondi Beach fish and chip shop where we would buy stacks of the
freshest, most delicious fish and perfectly cooked, golden brown chips, you
could imagine. When we got home and sat down at the table, the fish received
liberal squeezes of lemon, and the chips were always smothered in Seppelt
vinegar. Way before I ever knew anything about wine, Seppelt was a household
name in our house. Besides being the largest producer of vinegar, (and making
lots of fortified wine) they made some very interesting other products; they
even sold mixed peel in cute little boxes.
In those
days, Seppelt Sherry was also the preferred choice of the derelict population
when they could afford to buy the product. Whilst this might be seen as damning
praise, Seppelt Sherry certainly was the industry standard and I can remember
my grandmother having a little tipple of it every now and again; more
"now" than "again."
In
all seriousness, even the most refined households would always have a few bottles
of Seppelt Sherry in the liquor cabinet; it was the foundation stone for any
household liquor supply.
There are some amazing and interesting historical artefacts in this museum. In many wineries you visit, you see lots of antiques (items of junk that are regarded as valuable because they are old) and there are some of those here too, but there are many unique and truly worthwhile exhibits. For a start, they were into “modelling” in a big way at Seppelt; they have all sorts of interesting scale models of buildings, and other things, that were specifically built to ensure the finished product would be exactly what was required. In this museum, they have an incredible array of items that almost defies description. Everything from “sample kits” the reps used to carry in the old days, through to original ledgers, numerous different types of pot stills for making brandy, even a grape crusher and stemmer from 1890 which is in pristine condition.
From there, we went in through a side door, into the main building that houses the cellar door, and the office, but once again there is so much more than you would expect. The interior of this building is modern in comparison to everything that we'd seen but as we walked along, we noticed two things. The first was a further 3,000,000 litres of fortified wine; even the Pie King, without his Coke bottle glasses on, would have difficulty in missing that one. Secondly, despite the fact that this is in reality a working barrel shed, it was as clean as the average operating theatre, but not quite as clean as my friend Marion's house. On the top floor of this area is the Seppelt holy of holies, the casks of wine that have been put aside for a hundred years. This winery is now in the unique position of having the world's longest continuous vertical of fortified wines; even Portugal can't touch them. When you think about it, that was quite a vision that old Benno had all those years ago.
From there, James was kind enough to take us into a private tasting room and open up the entire range of fortified wines. During the tasting, he described where each fits in the line up and the unique characteristics of each wine.
Seppelt would undoubtedly have the biggest and best range of fortified wines in the country. The opportunity to taste the entire line up was certainly an incredibly special experience. The only thing that would have been more incredibly special would have been to have every one of these wines in front of you at home for a few days so that you could spend as long as you wished tasting them, analysing them, and making full tasting notes, but that would be a costly exercise given that the hundred year old Para Liqueur Port retails at $1,000 for 750 ml, although I understand they do sell half bottles as well.
As I hope I forcefully stated earlier, Seppeltsfield is a unique, living and breathing wine museum that is completely and absolutely irreplaceable. It may be too much to hope for, but one can only pray that the bean counters at Fosters do actually have a social conscience and blood flowing through their veins, rather than being soulless, corporate cretins, who have no interest in the havoc and destruction they cause in search of the dollar.
From my personal perspective, if Fosters messes with this shrine, in protest, I would never buy another bottle of any wine they produce again.
Without a shadow of a doubt, our trip through Seppeltsfield with James Godfrey was a once-in-a-lifetime experience that will never be forgotten and a fitting highlight to end the formal part of this trip.
Copyright © Ric Einstein 2005