There’s a certain kind of swagger to the Mediterranean table. It’s not loud. It’s sun-warmed and salt-flecked, carried in on a breeze that smells like grilled lemons and sea spray. It’s a way of eating and drinking that’s less about ceremony and more about rhythm - late afternoons, long lunches, loud friends and the kind of wine that disappears because talking is easier when your glass keeps refilling.
Pour Decisions: Mediterranean Wines with Australian Attitude is that mood translated to our side of the world. A little wild, a little coastal and completely at home in Australian dirt. Right now, some of the most exciting wines in this country aren’t trying to be Burgundy or Bordeaux.
They’re looking south and east - to Sicily, the Peloponnese, Sardinia, Rioja, Calabria - and finding varieties that thrive in heat, handle drought and taste like Summer even when it’s not.
Take Vermentino. In the Med, it’s all citrus pith and seaside herbs; in Australia, it’s become a kind of beach-runner’s white - brisk, bright and unapologetically refreshing. From Riverland to McLaren Vale, winemakers are letting it keep its edge: lime zest, green melon, fennel fronds, a lick of saline. It’s the glass you want when the day is too hot for heavy thoughts.
Agiorgitiko is a newer crush here, but it’s already flirting with greatness. In Greece it can be plush and spicy; in Australia it pinches a little more structure from our soils, giving you sour cherry, pomegranate, cracked pepper and a satisfying tannin grip. It feels like the red you pour when the roast lamb lands - bright enough to lift, deep enough to linger.
Grenache, meanwhile, has found its second youth. Old vines in Barossa, McLaren Vale and the Clare are giving wines that are all raspberry coulis, dried rose, red liquorice and baking spice, but with a current of savoury earth that makes them dangerously drinkable. If Shiraz is our campfire, Grenache is our sunset.
Then Nero d’Avola - Sicily’s dark-hearted hero - has quietly become one of our best answers to hot-climate reds. In Australia it stays generous but less heavy: black cherry, mulberry, cocoa husk, a dusty, bushland hum. It doesn’t sulk in the heat; it glows in it.
A lot of this energy is coming from natural and low-intervention makers who see the Med ethos as permission to loosen the tie. Skin-contact Vermentinos with a sunset blush. Whole-bunch Grenaches that smell like potpourri and Summer berries. Nero d’Avola fermented on wild yeasts, bottled with a gentle haze, drinking like a road trip through sunburnt hills. These wines aren’t about perfection - they’re about place, personality and the thrill of letting a grape speak in a new accent.
If you’re chasing stellar bottles under $40, Australia is a playground right now. Look for Vermentino from Riverland and McLaren Vale; agile, salty and often around the $25-35 mark. Grenache from Barossa and McLaren Vale is overflowing with value in the $30-40 bracket - especially from old vine parcels.
Nero d’Avola from Riverland, Heathcote and Margaret River tends to sit comfortably in the low-to-mid $30s, with a swaggering fruit core. Agiorgitiko, while rarer, is still mostly priced for discovery, often in that $30-ish sweet spot.
Pair them like you’re building a modern Mediterranean menu: casual but considered. Vermentino loves anything that tastes of the sea - charred octopus, prawns with lemon and oregano, burrata with grilled peach and a scatter of mint.
Agiorgitiko is a dream with lamb kofta, spiced tomato braises, eggplant roasted until smoky and soft. Grenache wants flame - grilled sardines, pork shoulder with fennel seed, wood-fired flatbreads blistered and torn. Nero d’Avola sits beautifully beside richer plates: slow-cooked goat, nduja-spiked pasta, roasted capsicum stuffed with herby rice and pine nuts.
The best part? These wines feel like Australia right now - sun-smart, resilient, a bit rebellious and made for the table. Pour a little extra. Make a few questionable decisions. The Mediterranean way was never about restraint anyway.
