Shiraz

Shiraz doesn’t care about your delicate palate or your obsession with minerality. It’s here to blow the doors off with black fruit, spice, smoke, and swagger. It’s a baritone in a room full of falsettos - loud, proud, and absolutely unapologetic.

It goes by Syrah in its French suit-and-tie form. But give it some sun, some heat, and a bit of wild terrain - like in Australia or South Africa - and it transforms. Shiraz becomes the rough-edged, muscled-up version of itself. Think blackberry jam smashed into black pepper, maybe some liquorice, maybe something meaty and smoky lurking underneath.

There’s nothing polite about a good Shiraz. It doesn’t tiptoe. It shows up with intensity and then just keeps going - rich, full-bodied, often with tannins that punch and hug at the same time. But here’s the kicker: it can still be elegant, if you let it. Behind all that bravado is complexity, and sometimes even grace.

You’ll find it in a lot of styles. Aussie Shiraz is all ripe fruit, mocha, sometimes eucalyptus, depending on where it’s grown. Barossa brings the big guns. Cooler regions like the Adelaide Hills rein it in a bit - give it a bit more finesse. Over in South Africa, it’s got this smoky, fynbos thing going on. Structured, brooding, serious. You want range? Shiraz has it.

It’s not all about meat, but let’s be real - Shiraz was made to hang with red meat. Lamb chops, grilled steak, BBQ that’s still got smoke clinging to it. The wine wraps around the fat, lifts the char, and somehow makes the whole thing better. And if there’s a bit of spice in the dish? Even better. Shiraz doesn’t back down.

Age it or don’t. A lot of Shiraz drinks well young - loud and juicy with that fresh fruit energy. But leave it alone for five, ten years and the fruit softens, the savoury notes rise up, and it gets this kind of leathery, smoky, earth-kissed depth that just sings. You don’t need a cellar, but if you’ve got one, fill it.

Winemakers love Shiraz because it’s versatile. It can handle oak. It can handle heat. It can be blended (hello, GSM) or stand tall on its own. It can be made into structured, age-worthy monsters or lush, drink-now party starters. There’s not a lot it can’t do - which makes it either the show-off of the wine world or the hardest-working grape in the biz.

Some people will call it over-the-top. Too much. Too ripe. Too bold. Those people can go back to sipping their chilled reds and talking about tension. Shiraz isn’t here for your restrained, intellectual wine chat. It’s here to fill the glass, warm the room, and bring the fire.

It’s also not trying to be cool. That’s what makes it cool. Shiraz isn’t chasing trends. It doesn’t have to. It’s got roots, legacy, range, and enough attitude to carry a meal, a night, or a memory all on its own. It’s serious, it’s fun, it’s primal, and it doesn’t need permission.

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