On the road with Larry Cherubino - Decanter
It’s the end of a long day. The sun is setting over the ocean in a smug riot of pastels. I’ve been bombarding Larry Cherubino with wine questions all day, so now opt for a different approach.
How would he describe his driving over the hundreds of kilometres we’ve travelled today from the Great Southern to Margaret River? He takes a steeling gulp of beer.
‘Erratic,’ he deadpans. Then breaks into a broad, winning grin.
Erratic. It’s a fair summary. A somewhat jittery approach to both wheel and pedal has been noticeable. The towering aerial on the bonnet enables Cherubino to conduct non-stop calls (his wife, his colleagues, his estate agent).
Regular pit-stops range from showing me vineyards to foraging wheat and banksia flowers for decor at his restaurant.
Cherubino’s laid-back commentary provides the sound-track, covering everything from clonal diversity to getting locked out of his house (hence the estate agent). Peppering the commentary are phrases like ‘you gotta stick to your knitting’ and ‘far out!’
On a road trip, you get to know someone. Cherubino has a busy mind. His easy manner and self-deprecating charm are underpinned by a restless energy that can prove unsettling as well as engaging.
At times, his frustration bubbles over.
The evolution of Australian wine
‘Australian wine is as good as it’s ever been, but we’re just not getting the message out like we should,’ he retorts to a question. ‘At some point we need to stop selling ourselves short,’ he continues.
‘People have this concept of Australian wine [but] the whole industry is being redefined. You can’t jump a chasm in two leaps – we’ve just got to go for it, stick with it, and hopefully not go bust in the process!’
Add ambition into the mix. At which point we should probably take a step back to consider the bigger picture. Australian wine has had a rough time lately. Buffetings have come courtesy not just of the climate (floods, wildfires, frosts) but also markets.
China slapped 200%-plus tariffs on Australian wine imports from 2020-2024 over a wider diplomatic spat. The aura of relentless dynamism and momentum around Australian wine that captivated wine drinkers the world over seems to have lost some of its lustre.
And yet, as Cherubino points out, such sweeping generalisations belie the reality on the ground. Which is that, following on from the Australian wine boom of the late 20th century, the cheerful oceans of ‘sunshine in a glass’ have been swiftly followed by a revolution in the vineyards.
Once Aussie winemakers gleefully stuck two fingers up to stuffy Eurocentric notions of terroir, soils and appellations. But now the talk is all about how to craft unique wines from specific sites. Quality and diversity are at an all-time high.
‘Australian wine has evolved,’ reflects Cherubino. ‘Now we’re selling dirt. We talk less and less about technique. It’s all about the vineyard these days.’
Journey into wine
And this is a man who has lived the change. Originally trained in horticulture, Cherubino fell into wine in the early 1990s. He learned the importance of details and multi-tasking from French flying winemaker Jacques Lurton in Bordeaux – and beyond.
In Australia, he worked for Hardys and also Western Australian stalwart Houghton, famed for its historic White Burgundy label. Cherubino jokes that he’s made more ‘white burgundy’ than any Burgundian.
Although he was brought up in what he terms the ‘technical era’ of Australian wine, he now says: ‘I don’t make wine like that any more.’
Having set up his own wine company in 2004 with his wife Edwina, he farms around 230ha of vines in Western Australia: across Frankland River (120ha), Pemberton (70ha) and Margaret River (40ha).
Go west
With Australia’s shift to quality over quantity, Western Australia has grown in prominence. The region represents 3% by volume but 7% by value of Australia’s total crush, and has an outsize presence when it comes to the country’s upmarket wines.
When I ask Cherubino to summarise what wines from this part of the world offer, ‘clarity’ is the first word on his lips. This is followed by talk of the pristine environment and oceanic influence. ‘If you have to try too hard to grow something, it means you shouldn’t be doing it,’ he says.
‘Here there’s a bunch of varieties that we excel with, so don’t have to try too hard.’
Chardonnay and Cabernet Sauvignon top the list of such varieties, particularly in Margaret River. You might add Pinot Noir in Pemberton, or Riesling in Great Southern.
As a region Great Southern is particularly hard to concisely encapsulate, given its diversity in climate, soil and human design. What’s more, it’s evolving.
Cherubino, for example, has planted varieties as diverse as Fiano, Arneis, Counoise, Touriga Nacional, Nebbiolo, Mencía and Grenache in Frankland River. He’s also road-testing different clones, for example of Chardonnay.
‘People say I’m wasting my time, but that 1-2% difference at the top end is all about genetics,’ he comments.
Winemaking philosophy
The questing mentality, a somewhat obsessive focus on detail, is very much part of the Cherubino approach. It’s what makes him a successful winemaking consultant around the world (though he does less of this now, tending to focus more on his own projects). It’s also timely given the way in which Australian wine is evolving.
So what’s his approach to the top-billing grapes? He’s dismissive of what he sees as the trend to ‘light-weighting’ Chardonnay. ‘The whole point of eating or drinking something is that it’s flavoursome,’ he argues.
‘Chardonnay must have flavour. There’s nothing better than biting into a tree-ripened piece of fruit that’s still got acidity, but it has flavour as well.’
All sides of Cabernet
And Cabernet? ‘We’ve got a real aversion to tannin, to wines with earthy, stony characters in Australia. But there’s good earth and bad earth,’ he explains. ‘We shouldn’t be afraid of showing that side of Cabernet.
A lot of people compare Margaret River Cabernet to Bordeaux – sometimes I think it’s got more in common with Bolgheri. If you look at the early Margaret River Cabs, they’re defined by this dusty red earth [character]. That’s what the soil’s like.’
As for how his winemaking has changed over time, he points to the importance of tasting widely, vine health and hard work. Talking Chardonnay, he says: ‘I don’t want to be the best in Western Australia, I want to compete with the best in the world.’
Is that a reality now, I ask? ‘I think we’re getting there. We need to be aware of what’s happening globally with wine.’ Is bravery needed? ‘The less you rely on techniques, the more exposed you are. If you’re gonna sing solo without any instruments, you’d better be good.’
A sustainable future
Sustainability is also on Cherubino’s agenda. His vineyards are certified carbon neutral. To take one example, he’s been working on improving soil structure by increasing organic matter. Soil carbon levels have duly risen from 2% to 6%.
The improved structure retains moisture better so he now uses 20% less water these days, a vital saving for a precious resource in Frankland River. ‘We’ve got better things to do with our water than selling wines below cost,’ he quips.
As for the future? In 2025, Cherubino is celebrating 20 years since the first harvest of his own project. With his two cellar doors in Margaret River, including a re-launched restaurant (Masseria: ‘elevated Italian’), a wine bar in Perth and importing business, plus his vineyard portfolio and global travel, he won’t be short of things to keep him busy.
He may describe his driving as erratic, but the word’s origins also conceal an intriguing nod towards wandering and adventure.
‘Anyone who owns a vineyard is a farmer,’ he rues. ‘And if you own a winery, you’re a fancy farmer. But not all of us are Jeremy Clarkson – we can’t all have a TV show and promote the hell out of ourselves.
We’re realists here in Western Australia. We’re pretty far from everything. We’ve just got to believe we’re making a great product – and then we’ve got to stick to our knitting.’
