In contrast, Minimum, somehow, found its first home in a commercial winery, with all the bells and whistles. And while we of course stuck to our ethos of wildness and of organics – there was always a schism between that environment and what we were really trying to achieve. We persisted in that space, harvest after harvest, but it was influencing the wines and keeping them too tightly ‘controlled’. In the meantime, Matt continued to make his completely natural wines year after year for smaller projects. Some he made in the ‘Minimum corner’ of the winery space we used, but more and more, Italy was where it was at for him. Whether that was fermenting wines outside by he and Leni’s tiny vineyard in Sardinia, or in the cellar of their 450-year-old tiny village house in Bosa, or later in a friend’s Tuscan garage.  

Then, after the 2023 harvest, we got the disruption we needed. We were literally kicked out of the winery we’d been making wine in for the first six Minimum harvests. Our wildness finally outgrew the welcome. And so, for the 2024 harvest, we took this as an invitation to go back to the wild. We didn’t realise we’d be so literal about it. A friend offered us their small hill to use. It had an undercover area and a full rainwater tank. It had no power or walls. It was far from ideal. It was perfect. And so it became the foundation of a new vision to strip Minimum back to what it was always meant to be; a natural wine project – no lab, no tests, no additions, no preservatives. Just pure nature. And pure trust in nature. 

Unbeknownst to us at the time, this 2024 vintage would be the last time we’d pick fruit from the vineyard we’d been working with since 2018. Like many vineyards in Australia, it would succumb to late-stage capitalism and be totally ripped out a few months after vintage. These new wines are the last ever made from that site. 2024 wasn’t just a rebirth; it was also a funeral. RIP to ‘Pogue’ vineyard.   

The Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, and Sangiovese were all machine-harvested (the last time we’d do that). The Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon, Grenache and Syrah were all picked by us (Matt and Mat). We’d go out to the vineyard, taste each variety and decide what felt ready to pick. We’d pick as much as we could in a day, and head back to the hill to process.  

It was a pretty hot vintage. We got the great ripening weather we’d become accustomed to up in Toolamba (Yorta Yorta Country) where the vineyard lay. Apart from the Merlot, we picked everything earlier than normal. Brightness, electricity, energy; that was the vision.  

Apart from some portions (more on those below), all wines were made in a very similar way. For all, no additions were used. We picked the grapes, brought them straight up to our little hill and crushed and destemmed them with our small machine directly into their open-top fermenting tubs (the only time we used power – a small generator). All ferments were plunged twice daily; the first thing we did in the morning, and the last thing we did before bed. An open-air ritual, framed by bird song and wide skylines of purple, pink and orange soaring over the dry hills and gum trees. 

Apart from a portion of Syrah, which we pressed slightly sweet, all ferments were kept on full skins for 10-12 days, until primary fermentation was complete. We also let some portions of Sauvignon Blanc and Chardonnay sit for longer, around 13-15 days, to gently oxidise after the primary fermentation was complete.  

We pressed each wine with Bonnie, our trusty hand-cranked basket press, into aged oak barrels.  

There were some exceptions:  
A portion of Chardonnay (like sun) was soaked on skins for just 48 hours in stainless steel, and then pressed immediately into aged barrels to barrel-ferment. It stayed in those same barrels through to bottling.  

The Sangiovese wasn’t ready to harvest until 6 weeks (!) after everything else (classic Sangiovese). By then, we’d long since packed down our hilltop encampment. So we fermented this at a friend's winery in one of their stainless-steel tanks on full skins, then pressed it into barrels, like the rest.   

All of these 2024 wines were matured in the same aged oak barrels they were pressed into, for over 2 years. Apart from topping and tasting, they were never racked or moved. All wines were kept topped up, except for two special barrels of Chardonnay (flora flora) that developed a bacterial mat on top of the wine, known lovingly as a flor. We did not top these two barrels for over a year, allowing the flor to do its magic (and it is, for real, magic). 

All wines were bottled by hand, by simple gravity. No pumps. Just slow moves, and gentle physics. And lovingly hand-labelled by Mat and Matt in a kind of meditative alpha-state. 

There is a little something from the whole rainbow spectrum that was the Pogue vineyard in these eight wines. They represent a very appropriate send-off for the vines that we’d come to know so well and love so deeply.  

There is the bright, textured like sun (pure Chardonnay with very little skin contact) for those seeking something crisp but complex. Much richer, oxidative and contemplative is the light orange nearer to the sky (pure Sauvignon Blanc fermented on full skins). Then, richer again, with electricity from the flor process that brings layer upon layer of depth, flora flora (pure Flor Chardonnay; only 2 barrels made).  

Then, we have the completely sideways white/red (Chardonnay/Syrah) blend a sandwich at noon, the experience of drinking which is somewhere between licking the inside of an electrified barrel and stuffing your mouth with umeboshi-soaked lychees.  

Three reds are from a single, lovely barrel each. The lightest is wā (early-picked Grenache), a harmony of umami minerals and berry sherbet. Then soft soft big big (half Cabernet, the rest equal parts Merlot, Grenache and Syrah) is all raspberry toast on a raspberry plate spread with a raspberry knife and spiced raspberry jam. Then, good donkey (pure Merlot) is the ripest and juiciest of the reds, is all at once delicate and floral, while still being classic jubey dark fruits and mulberry jam.  

Finally, there is sans— (Sangiovese/Syrah), a very mature evolution of our classic San Selvaggio. It’s all strawberries, boysenberries and raspberries up front, then pure cherry jam and some lovely inviting grip.  

We now have all of these wines on pour at our Community Wine House on the borderlands of Brunswick East and Northcote.