Wilson Vineyard | NEWS AND TRIVIA FILE

We call them "gloops", the chaps in the Barossa call them "runners"; every winery has them but no-one seems to know why.

They are the people who drive, often some distance, to a winery, but having got there, just turn the car around, and drive out again.

We never get to meet these people, and therefore remain mystified by their behaviour, but assume that for some reason our external appearance fails to fulfil their expectations.

We do know some things; red cars have an unusually high involvement in this behaviour; and currently about one car in 30 that drives in to the winery turns out to be a gloop.

Over the years we have encountered people who admit to having glooped elsewhere, and with some quite valid reasons.

We can quite understand the people who drove on when they found thirty cars and two tourist buses in the winery car park. Then there were the people who had arranged to meet friends "if we're not at winery A, we'll be at B or C".

In the old days when we sold from a spartan looking shed, one in 7 was a gloop. The inference is that three quarters of people who have glooped at sheds are favourably influenced by stone buildings, rose gardens, and shady trees for car-parking.

We're always looking at ways to improve facilities, but sometimes we need feedback from customers.

We'd like to hear from anyone who is prepared to admit that they've glooped at a winery, not necessarily ours, and for reasons other than those already mentioned above. For the best gloop tale we will send a case of wine, and the next ten will each receive a three-bottle pack. We undertake not to publish any names.

And the origin of the term "gloop"? It started off as a contraction of "going around in loops", with an appealing rhyme with snoop, until someone came up with the acronymous "getting lost on outings people".

This wine is so utterly different from anything else, that we decided that it deserved a corresponding label. And why the rose? Well why not? The artwork was done by Linda Schroeter.

The Zinfandel is a wine that is always a challenge to make, so much that in 1989 it just didn't work at all.

The grapes are always the very last in the vineyard to be harvested, always in May, and seem to be a regular cause for concern to visitors to the winery as they drive right past them, and constantly ask "why didn't you pick those grapes down there?"

To make this wine the grapes must be left until they are nearly raisins - that in itself is a risky business because there is a fair chance of botrytis. Botrytis is OK in whites, but not in reds.

Then in the winery, we have to get the rich must fermenting vigorously; no mean feat considering that the high sugar content inhibits fermentation, and we are well into the winter cold to slow down the yeasts. With every other wine we there is a constant battle to keep the temperature down - with this one it is always too cold. Happily we have now discovered a yeast that slogs on, no matter what. That yeast got this 1990 wine up to 16.2%, which was quite a remarkable feat. Even then, there was still a quantity of residual sugar that gives a balancing effect to the wine without being dominant.

This 1990 Zinfandel has remarkable and powerful spicy and pepper aromas that are distinctive of the variety.

The colour is a very deep crimson-purple, not unlike the rose on the label. Enormous rich berry flavour on the palate with that delightful balancing effect of the sugar; very smooth on the finish. A wine to have at the end of the meal with cheese, dried fruit or nuts. Our production is quite small, and this wine is only produced in 375ml. We believe that the aging potential is enormous - dare we say a hundred years - I wonder.

We have never been happy about those lead capsules that grace the top of wine bottles. For a start they are expensive, costing us nearly 10 cents a go; add the taxes and mark-ups, means consumers are paying up to 30 cents in the price of a bottle. The literature is confused as to how much lead actually finds its way into the wine; the main risk seems to be when the outer coating of tin on the capsule corrodes, lead salts are formed and deposited on the rim of the bottle, and then picked up when the wine is poured. Even so, the research suggests that this is minor.

But lead is a toxic substance, and accumulates in body tissues, so that it seems reasonable that any lead is too much lead.

Hitherto we have bowed to marketing pressure and used lead capsules. The alternatives have been rather inferior-looking plastic capsules, or dipping in wax, the latter being slow and cumbersome.

Worldwide, the pressure against lead capsules has been mounting, to the extent that in some places they have been banned. In consequence the manufacturers of plastic capsules have lifted their game, and are now producing a metal-look capsule that is a dead ringer for the old lead ones.

We ceased using lead capsules on our wines in 1990, and shall be using the improved plastic caps for most wines, and occasionally wax where very small production runs are involved.