I've long known my father possessed a bottle of the 1988 St Helga in his collection, but after a bit of digging on Christmas day, I managed to locate another four. "Carn dad, we gotta crack one now", I rather ambitiously stated while full of Christmas cheer.
Opening with an extremely weathered, soaking wet cork, its browning golden/bronze colour presents a nose which does show hints of honeyed toast/kerosene, but it's completely overawed by stronger whiffs of bland breakfast cereals and paint thinner, with wet hessian aromas also present. Distinctly rich on the palate but very oxidative, it pushes through with seriously funky, almost mould-like character. Thank heavens modern Australian rieslings are sealed with screwcap.
X I'll leave the last line here to my father, whom, when asked what he'll do with his other four bottles of 1988 St Helga said; "Well, I'll probably give it another 10 years, then see how it tastes then". Drink during the Atlanta Olympics.