RICHIE Harkham proudly points to a picture on his cellar door wall of himself, aged six, holding a glass of chardonnay alongside his grandmother Aziza.
To say wine runs deep in his family is an understatement, because he has never known life without it.
"Aziza made wine and started teaching me about it at a very young age. That's what the picture is about," Harkham, 45, says.
"My great grandfather worked as a gardener at one of the oldest vineyards in Israel and he used to get her grapes so she could make a small production.
"Aziza's wines weren't great - she didn't have refrigeration or cooling or many of the benefits of modern winemaking - but she instilled in me my passion for wine."
These days Harkham is owner and winemaker of Harkham Wines in the Hunter Valley and that passion is palpable. Start him talking wine and sit back - the words and stories flow like wine from a tank.
And Aziza is at the very heart of it all.
"She would also grow her own food and pick it. It would bring the family together ... a love of the land and turn it into something," he says. "That's the very thing that drives me today."
Mind you, Harkham Wines have forged their own trail. They are very much into "100 per cent minimal intervention", of kosher wines and, where possible, organic fruit.
It's a challenging trifecta.
MINIMAL INTERVENTION
There's a sign on another wall of his cellar door: "In Grapes We Trust".
And this is where Harkham's religious faith sits front and centre.
"We believe God is perfect, humans aren't, so what God gives us is perfect," he explains.
"Most of the work is done in the vineyard with our growers. If you get the best fruit, pick and sort it carefully, you have the groundwork for the best wine.
"So while I believe in minimal intervention, I still work hard to get the best wine. But I also accept that no two vintages are same. There's excitement every year. A lesser vintage is a lesser vintage.
"This year for example, the rabbi, who has worked with me for 10 years now, and I picked six weeks' worth of fruit in six days because that's when the fruit was at its very best.
"There was just the two of us and we worked 20 hours a day for the first week. The next week we were doing 18 hours a day. I actually slept in the winery at one stage waiting for fermentation to start."
Harkham also believes that when he adds things to wine, he's "blurring the very heart of the local terroir".
But nonetheless there comes a point when pragmatism comes into play.
"I'm not opposed to using a cultured yeast if the conditions demand it," he says. "You have to be sensible, but wherever possible, I avoid that - it's zero additives."
He tells the story of a visit to France where he met natural winemaker Francois Rousset-Martin of the Jura wine region.
"He's a lovely man and his wines have a cult status. He took me down to his underground cellar and there were cobwebs everywhere, thick layers of them," Harkham says.
"He wanted to show me a bottle, but it was covered in cobwebs. I said I'd clean it off, but he insisted I leave the bottle as it was. He said, 'It's nature, it's part of the wine'.
"It made me realise more than ever that wine is a snapshot of time and place."
But what of the fruit itself? Zero additives there as well?
"The Hunter is a very tough place to grow grapes organically because we get our rain in summer," he says.
"I try to not change my growers because they're good at what they do, but I encourage them wherever possible to not use herbicides and pesticides.
"But fungicides, I accept, because it's almost impossible to grow grapes here otherwise - my growers have to make a living too. But we limit it as much as humanly possible ... that's why all our fruit is 100 per cent handpicked, to ensure the best quality fruit without disease."
GOING KOSHER
In Harkham's own words, kosher winemaking is "the hardest certification to have".
He describes it as "old world winemaking" and is determined to prove that the quality of the wine doesn't suffer because of it.
It does, however, involve a whole series of restrictions that, to you and me, would seem mind-boggling.
"Every single step along the way, any wine movement at all, my rabbi or a kosher person needs to be there," he explains.
"I'm a one-man show basically, only me and the rabbi, although occasionally my dad will help at harvest.
"During winemaking I can't get into my kosher room, Rabbi Avi has the key. There's tape over my barrels that he has to remove before I can taste or check the wine. Opening a tap, closing a tap, he must be there.
"It's all about preserving a wine's holiness, its purity.
"For Jewish people wine is the most holy liquid in the world - it's the only liquid used as a sacrifice to God.
"So the rabbi, who has been with me so long he could be my assistant winemaker, has to watch every step until it has a cork in the top of the bottle."
But if a cork in the top signifies the end of the process, when does it begin?
"Kosher doesn't start in the vines - at that stage it's just fruit.
"Kosher starts in the crusher, which is the beginning of the winemaking process, because I believe wine is God's gift to the world. For Jewish people wine is meant to elevate your soul.
"When fermentation begins and sugar is converted to alcohol, and there's gas in the air and it's bubbling away with zero additives.
"It's a glorious time to be in the winery."
THE PROPERTY
Harkham bought the 70-acre De Beyers Road property in Pokolbin, previously known as Windara Estate, in 2005.
While there were some shiraz vines, they weren't in great condition and eventually died in 2020 after a string of back-to-back drought years.
But he has plans to replant vines and points to a nearby paddock out the back where cows are happily grazing and doing what cows do to enrich soil.
"I plan to farm organically and the recommendation is to regenerate the soil for five years, so that's what's happening."
And will it be the usual Hunter staples of shiraz and semillon?
"Wait and see, but there will be a surprise there ... a very obscure varietal," he says.
THE WINE
"I only make 20,000 bottles and am striving for the highest quality I can, starting from the growing right through the winemaking," he says.
"Our prices range from $30 for our rosé, up to $50 for the Aziza's Shiraz and $45 for the Aziza's Chardonnay.
"But there are reserve wines that I make occasionally, sometimes once in 10 years, that are more expensive.
"I believe those prices are pretty moderate for the Hunter and that's because I want people to drink my wine. I want to share it.
"For three years after the bushfire and smoke taint vintage of 2020, I only produced two wines out of six, so I started sourcing some fruit from Orange for my rosé.
"But that won't happen again - I'm going back to 100 per cent Hunter.
"My rosé vineyard is organic and next vintage I have sourced a Hunter certified organic vineyard."
HARK ANGEL
Harkham Wines also produce a range called Hark Angel ($40) that is especially close to his heart. Money from this range goes towards the Hark Angel Foundation.
"It's a grassroots charity I founded in 2015 and run ... we're aiming to build 100 schools in the world's poorest places," he says.
"So far we've built 11, in Kenya, mostly in Myanmar, a couple in Cambodia, so there's a long way to go. We're hoping to build one more this year, but the prices are going up. It used to cost $30,000 for a school, now it's up to $85,000.
"Another thing we've started is the Hark Angel Art Collective where I look for a diamond in the rough. That diamond was most recently the Uweza Art Gallery in Kibera in Kenya.
"It takes kids from Kibera in Nairobi, which is the world's largest slum with a 12 per cent HIV rate, and encourages them to produce art. I commissioned 10 pieces from them and sold them through the cellar door with all profits going back to them. One artwork can feed a family for a year."
