If you don’t know, a Pillar Box is the UK’s red cylindrical repository for outgoing mail designed by J. W. Penfold. I hesitate to make this easy by calling it a “mail box”, because it’s not a box at all. And when I say that I drank Pillar Box wines last night, I also find myself clarifying to people that I was not drinking box wine at La Chaumiere (dieu tout puissant)…I was drinking several wonderful wines from the Henry’s Drive portfolio.
But why in hell would you brand three of seven labels after a post box—an invention, coincidentally, designed by a guy named Penfold…you know, the other 19th century Pendfold who established one of Australia’s oldest wineries? Kim Longbottom, owner, looked at me like I had way too much to drink time on my hands…
Back to the 19th century: horse-drawn coach drivers delivered mail and passenger alike along a network of routes (or as Australians call them: “drives”). The owner of Padthaway’s coach service was a gentleman named Henry John Hill and one of his drives cut through the land that now belongs to the Longbottom clan. Hence the vigneron’s use of the name, “Henry’s Drive”.
Knowing this, the other four brands—Dead Letter Office (hat tip to the poor sods who find, destroy or auction off undeliverable posted material), The Trail of John Montford (hat tip to the guy who robbed Henry’s coach), Parson’s Flat (hat tip to religion making the rounds on Henry’s drive), and Henry’s Drive (‘nuf said)—make a bit more sense after a swim through the Outback.
But I was not invited to this intimate dinner for trade and press to debate the branding strategy; I was there to try two new wines that will be introduced to the American market in about a month. Reminding me a bit of the artist formally known as Prince parading as a TrueType dingbat font, the label speaks for itself: … …. .. .-. .- –.. (and no, that’s not bad HTML code you’re looking at).
“And, if you like the … …. .. .-. .- –.., you’ll love the -.-. …. .- .-. -.. — -. -. .- -.– !” So, What hath God wrought? Shiraz and Chardonnay typed out, respectively, in Morse Code (I hope local servers are taking note—I’m not drumming at your two-top, I’m ordering wine).
The irony (and continuation on a theme) is not lost on me. Morse Code is the original e-mail. With the help of Joseph Henry, who sent an electronic current over a mile of wire to activate an electromagnet which caused a bell to strike, Morse proved that signals could be transmitted by wire. He used pulses of current to deflect an electromagnet, which moved a marker to produce written codes on a strip of paper. Congress was the first to witness the sending and receiving of messages over part of the telegraph line. The Whig party held its national convention in Baltimore on May 1, 1844 and nominated Henry Clay. This news was hand-carried to Annapolis where Morse’s partner, Alfred Vail, wired it to the Capitol. This was the first news dispatched by electric telegraph, the email of its day. If all this talk of Henry’s could drive you you to drink, my subliminal mind manipulating work here is done.
Selective use of history to boost the winery’s SEO aside, the Morse Code Chardonnay 2009 and Shiraz 2008 are priced substantially less than their “first class” brethren (sorry, clichés are part and parcel of a blogger’s lexicon). But just because they’re priced below $10 isn’t reason alone to pick up a bottle—as a few of us learned upon purchasing our first (and last) bottle of “two buck Chuck”—there’s that whole taste thing, too. Regretfully, I often dismiss Chardonnay out of hand because many producers replicated Jenny Craig’s secret fantasy to drink a stick of melted butter in a hickory smokehouse while chewing on a Slim Jim. Anyhoo, this is not one of those wines; I was pleasantly surprised by how much I liked this wine, which is slightly oaked but not so much so as to obfuscate the fruit. Perfect timing as we think about putting away our sharp, grassy Sauvignon Blancs for something just a bit more substantial and spicy, say as an apéritif before Thanksgiving dinner. Ahem, plug.
On the other hand, the Morse Code Shiraz 2008 was tougher to swallow initially. I’m no professional, but my first sip reminded me a lot of .-. — -… .. – ..- … … .. -.. Thankfully, I was sitting next to syndicated wine columnist and FOP (friend of Parker), Scott Greenberg—more popularly known as “The Vine Guy“—who knew well enough to give the wine a chance to open.
From there, we tried the 2007 and (yet to be released) 2008 Pillar Box Reds. The Pillar Box wines are not much more expensive—about $12/bottle. These are blended wines of 65% Shiraz (66% in 2008), 25% Cabernet Sauvignon and 10% Merlot (9% in 2008); only 35% of the juice sees oak (85% French and 15% American). The result won’t disappoint drinkers of South Australian Shiraz dominant wines—herbaceous, slightly medicinal (although much less so than the Morse Code red which is 100% Shiraz), black cherry, strawberry, mint, pepper, anise, and dried eucalyptus (by the bye, trees which surround the vineyard). To really enjoy these wines, you should decant before you’re planning to dive in.
Of the remaining wines we tried, two really stuck out for me: Dead Letter Office Shiraz (2006) 
and Parson’s Flat (2005). The former is a blend of two Shiraz’s from 14 year old vineyards in Padthaway (winemaker notes that this region is responsible for its fresh, minty flavors) and the newly purchased McLaren Vale property (which, according to the Fact Sheet, accounts for the chocolate tones). Who am I to argue? The wine is barrel fermented and matured in oak hogsheads (there’s an image, but really it’s just a big ass cask) and barriques (a smaller oak barrel) for 12 months (90% American and 10% French; 20% new oak, 40% in one-year old and 40% in two-year old oak for those keeping track). From this layman’s standpoint, it was lovely and round, soft and smooth but also full bodied (one would have thought more so from its 15% ABV); while it had lots of ripe berry fruit upfront (what the wine notes describe as raspberry, cherry and plum intermingled with milk chocolate), it never tasted “jammy” (like the earlier wines we tried). Only 6,800 cases were produced (a drop in the hogshead compared to the 124,000 cases of 2007 Pillar Box Red produced) and it retails for about $27. For those who care: Wine Enthusiast, Wine Spectator and The Wine Advocate each awarded the 2006 vintage with 90 points.
My other favorite was Parson’s Flat—a Shiraz (70%) and Cabernet Sauvignon (30%) blend. I’ll let them describe it for you: “Dense ripe cherry color, with a purple hue; the nose displays a concentrated array of mixed forest berries, smoky cigar box, spicy pepper, clove, caramel and mocha; an initial sweet, conventrated explosion of lucious blackberry on the palate leads to savory spice, coffee bean and licorice. Cabernet Sauvignon is still evident, contributing some attractive leafy and spearmint/peppermint flavors. Firm and granular tannins leave the mouth with a persistent coating.” This will run you a bit more at $40/bottle (5,000 bottles produced), but you won’t be disappointed. Again, Robert Parker thought this vintage merited 91 points.
So, coming back to the Morse Code Shiraz. The good news is that after a few hours it lost some (but certainly not all of) its medicinal character. Stealing from Scott’s perception, “it became a bit more smoky”. Given the quality of Henry’s Drive portfolio, and at a $9 price point, I’ll definitely give this a second try by decanting and seeing how much time it needs.
You can buy wines from the Henry’s Drive portfolio from its exclusive importer, Quintessential, or locally at Wine Specialist, Calvert Woodley and Chevy Chase Wine & Spirits (but you should always call these folks ahead of time since my info comes from a search engine).
Whichever strikes your fancy, pick some up…wait for it…post-haste. Buh-da-dun.
