At 12.5% alcohol, it is obviously one of the most elegant wines ever produced at Greenock Creek. But don’t think that indicates a pushover: behind its willowy confection there’s a rapier of natural acidity, a tight austerity and a severe concentration that most of Bordeaux simply never achieves. And the like of which the Barossa absolutely never achieves. This is the most un-Barossa red I’ve had since the near-perfect Cabernets Seppelts grew at nearby Dorrien in the seventies and early eighties. In a priceless vineyard which Foster’s recently uprooted and replaced with a clone guaranteed to produce much higher tonnages! Apart from all those structural aspects of the wine’s form, it has a cheeky, sweet, blackberries, mulberries, blackcurrants-and confectionery aftertaste that adds profound sensuality and gaiety to its rather humourless Masonic architecture. While it will undoubtedly make a liar of me by reaching perfection long after I’m rotting in my pine overcoat, I would suggest that it will probably be sublime enough in about a decade, when I am only half-way through my life. By which I mean that I obviously lie about my age, where this wine will probably manage to remain youthful and vivacious a lot longer than I did. It is eminently approachable now, but it will gradually mellow as its corners wear away, and it slowly realises I am no further threat to it. Miraculous. (12.5% alcohol;  94+++ points Philip White