The first is a Riesling perfect for morning tea, suggests Philip White, the second one to tip into your laughing sector.

Castelli Porongorup Riesling 2013  
$25, 11.8% alcohol; screw cap; 93+ points

To behold visually, the Porongorup is probably the most striking of Australia’s vignobles. The name applies to the 1.4 billion year old granite range which protrudes like a row of mighty high-rise bread loaves from the wide alluvial flats north of Albany, Western Australia. The surrounding countryside has all weathered away. Fifty million years ago, these great rocks were poking out of the Great Southern Ocean, waiting patiently to shipwreck the Portuguese. Another group if stony islands lay to their north. These are now the Stirling Ranges. Vineyards are speckled around the granitic gravels and loams of the Porongorup piedmont. The Rieslings have always been ravishing in the most polite and delicate way. They are most unlike anything from Clare or Eden Valley. This one has a cute peppery edge unique to this place; maybe burlap; maybe canteloupe peel.  Maybe it’s a bit like some of the more delicate of the wines Ernie Loosen makes in Pfalz. It tastes something like ginger with all the ginger taken out of it. By which I mean it’s somewhere out there past lemony; more gentle. But it’s not really limey, either. I find it most tantalising; a lovely morning-tea Riesling. Try it with Russian Caravan with milk and a hearty slice of apple struesel.

Torzi Matthews Frost Dodger Eden Valley Riesling 2013
$25; 13% alcohol; screw cap; 94+++

I can’t think of another Australian winery which has such a hit rate in its recommendations from me. All the wines are brilliant bargains. Domic Torzi and Tracey Matthews make this at Mount MacKenzie in the High Barossa. The vineyard is a regiment of 80 year old sodgers tramping very very slowly over a frost-prone flat. The aroma is acrid enough to remind me of cordite. Then there’s a kind of smoky bacon fat layer. Below that is a pot of lime marmalade, just beginning to stew. The rinds are lovely. Tip some into your laughing sector, and the wine is bigger than the Porongorup, with a lot more grainy tannin. Like you just licked grey dust. Then, it’s vivacious, authoritative limes and steely whiprod acidity. Second sip and you’ll begin to see the flesh around that taut, svelte structure. There have been bigger wines than this from the Riesling gardens of these uplands, but the more elegant amongst those toughies are always my favourites. That tannin makes them appear more brittle than supple, but like you find in this beauty, there’s enough spring in there to see them supple up in the cellar. Holy hell.