What is Shiraz and Why It Is Not the Same as Syrah?

Syrah and Shiraz are the same grape variety. The genetics were settled in 1998: both descend from a cross between Dureza and Mondeuse Blanche, two nearly extinct varieties native to the French Alps. End of story, at least on paper. In the reality of the bottle, however, the name is not merely a label – it is a declaration of style, of intent, of character. What is a Shiraz wine and why does it seem so different from a Syrah? Because in practice it is, even though genetically it should not be. That difference is worth understanding.

What is Shiraz

Shiraz is the Australian name for Syrah. It arrived in Australia in 1832 as part of the collection of James Busby, a Scottish botanist considered the father of Australian viticulture. The cuttings travelled labelled as ‘Scyras’, and over time the pronunciation drifted towards ‘Shiraz’ – perhaps by association with the Persian city of the same name, perhaps through simple linguistic drift in the colonies.

Australian Shiraz, the kind from the old vines of Barossa and McLaren Vale, is a wine that is not afraid to take up space: full body, ripe dark fruit, soft and rounded tannins, high alcohol, often aged in American oak that adds notes of vanilla and coconut. It is not a wine that tends towards tension. It is the opposite: it tends towards warmth, towards filling the palate, towards a generosity that can become cloying in the wrong hands and satisfying in the right ones.

What makes Shiraz interesting, though, and what is often overlooked in the fruit-versus-structure narrative, is rotundone. This is the compound responsible for the peppery spice characteristic of this grape variety – a molecule identified only in 2008 by researchers at the Australian Wine Research Institute, also present in black pepper, Grüner Veltliner, and Schioppettino. In cooler climates, such as the Grampians in Victoria or certain high-altitude vineyards, rotundone is better preserved and gives depth and interest to wines that might otherwise risk falling flat. It is the difference between a Shiraz worth remembering and one that remains the stereotype of mediocre New World wines.

Where Shiraz Grows

1. Barossa Valley, South Australia: old ungrafted vines, some among the oldest in the world, dating back to 1843. Shiraz of great concentration and structure.
2. McLaren Vale, South Australia: Mediterranean climate, soils ranging from sandstone to limestone. A softer, brinier style than Barossa.
3. Hunter Valley, New South Wales: Australia’s first vineyards, from 1830. A lighter, earthier style with surprising longevity.
4. Heathcote, Victoria: Cambrian slate soils, Shiraz with more acidity and tension.
5. Grampians, Victoria: cool, high-altitude climate where rotundone expresses itself with greater clarity. The wines of Mount Langi Ghiran are the benchmark here.
6. Adelaide Hills, South Australia: the answer to the heat – high-altitude vineyards, a style close to the northern Rhône.
7. Margaret River, Western Australia: oceanic climate, fresher and more defined Shiraz.

How Shiraz is Made

Australian tradition calls for fermentation in open tanks, long maceration to extract colour and tannin, and ageing in 225-litre American oak barrels, often new, for 12-24 months. Historic houses such as Penfolds still follow this approach in their higher-volume labels. The wine that results is recognisable: the vanilla and coconut of the American wood integrate with the ripe fruit in a way that is consistent with market expectations. Producers with contemporary ambitions have moved away from American oak in favour of French, or larger and more neutral vessels, aiming for a less opulent profile. Some Australian wineries now label their wines ‘Syrah’ to signal precisely this stylistic choice – a Shiraz with less make-up.

• Penfolds, Barossa/McLaren Vale: the Bin 28 is the archetype of Australian Shiraz – robust and reliable.
• Henschke, Eden Valley: the Hill of Grace, from vines dating to 1860, is one of Australia’s most long-lived and complex wines.
• Clarendon Hills, McLaren Vale: the Astralis, from pre-phylloxera vines, approaches the style of the northern Rhône.
• Tyrrell’s, Hunter Valley: the Old Patch 1867 Shiraz, from one of the oldest vineyards in the world, proves that elegance is possible even in the Australian heat.
• Mount Langi Ghiran, Grampians: the benchmark for the peppery spice of rotundone, with a style refined by altitude.

What is Syrah

Syrah is the French version of the same grape variety. But is it really just a matter of name? No. Northern Rhône Syrah grows on almost vertical granite terraces, in a climate that barely permits ripening, between drying winds and cold that prolongs the growing season. The fruit that results is more restrained, the acidity sharper, the peppery spice of rotundone more pronounced and less softened by alcohol. This is not generosity: it is precision. At times, almost brusqueness.

The profile of northern Syrah is that of a wine that does not come towards you. Dark berry, olives, smoked meat, black pepper, a sharp edge on the nose. On the palate, dense and almost chalky tannins, a vertical acidity that drives the sip upward rather than spreading it across the palate. A wine that demands time – years, sometimes – before softening its edges. A Hermitage can take two decades. A Cornas needs at least ten years before showing its best. Côte-Rôtie, where the addition of up to 20% Viognier is permitted, is the most aromatic and seductive version, with floral notes that temper the structural rigidity.

A Shiraz is a wine that must please now, must be accessible, must fill. A Syrah, by contrast, must last, must challenge, must compel you to return. They are two philosophies of pleasure.

Where Syrah Grows

1. Hermitage, northern Rhône: the benchmark. Wines of extreme density and decade-long longevity, from granite on the hillside slopes.
2. Côte-Rôtie, northern Rhône: the most aromatic of the northern Rhône, with possible Viognier blending.
3. Cornas, northern Rhône: the darkest and most austere, pure Syrah, on granite terraces among the garrigue.
4. Saint-Joseph, northern Rhône: thirty kilometres of vineyards, the point of entry to the northern Rhône that retains great character.
5. Crozes-Hermitage, northern Rhône: the most accessible version, from flat land surrounding the Hermitage hill.
6. Languedoc-Roussillon: Syrah here is often blended with Grenache and Mourvèdre, producing wines with a good price-to-quality ratio.
7. Swartland, South Africa: South African Syrah has developed its own profile over the past fifteen years, with notes of dried herbs and salt.

How Syrah is Made

In the northern Rhône, winemaking varies from cellar to cellar, but certain constants remain: fermentation in cement or steel tanks, ageing in 225- or 600-litre French oak barrels, with varying proportions of new wood. Maceration is often short at Cornas, longer at Hermitage. Some producers such as Thierry Allemand use low sulphur dioxide and partial whole-cluster pressing. Jean-Louis Chave ages the various lieux-dits separately before the final assemblage in vessels of 2,000 to 5,000 litres. There is no standard protocol – only the pressure of a demanding terroir.

• Jean-Louis Chave, Hermitage: the absolute benchmark, tiny quantities.
• Thierry Allemand, Cornas: a misanthropic and iconic winegrower – his bottles have become collectors’ items.
• Auguste Clape (today Pierre-Marie and Olivier Clape), Cornas: the living tradition of Cornas.
• Guigal, Côte-Rôtie: the three ‘La La’ (La Mouline, La Landonne, La Turque) are among the most prized wines in the world. The basic Côtes du Rhône is the most affordable way into this style.
• Emmanuel Darnaud, Saint-Joseph: one of the most solid value propositions in the northern Rhône, less well known than the famous names and still at reasonable prices.

Same Grape, Two Characters

There is a question worth asking: if they are the same variety, why are the names different? The answer is: climate, soil, tradition. But that answer is not enough, because it does not explain why Australian producers are now labelling their bottles ‘Syrah’ while using the same grapes, the same vineyards as Shiraz. The name does not only describe origin. It describes an intention. Shiraz means: I expect you to drink this now, to enjoy it immediately, with no effort required. Syrah means: take a step towards me.

The difference between the two is not genetics. It is the same difference as between Keats and Byron, who put on a brooding air to cut a fine figure in the salons. Syrah is genuinely troubled and tells you so through chalky tannins, cutting acidity, a closed nose. Shiraz imitates that sadness, but the ripe fruit peeks through by the third sip. It is not worse. It is made to please.

Rotundone is the true point of contact between the two. That terpenic compound is present in both versions of the grape variety, but in cooler climates, where the grape ripens slowly, it concentrates to the point of becoming the wine’s defining thread. The more I think about it, the more I find that it is precisely rotundone that determines the fate of a Syrah/Shiraz, regardless of the name on the label. When it is present, it acts as an aromatic antenna that hooks into the nose and palate – not invasive, but capable of giving a vertical dimension to an otherwise flat body. The same thing happens in certain Grüner Veltliners (compared here to Riesling) or in a quality Schioppettino, other varieties in which this compound appears: a spice that does not overwhelm but gives depth, transforming a two-dimensional wine into something alive.

Are Syrah and Shiraz Identical? Yes. And No.

Yes: Syrah and Shiraz are the same variety, with the same parents (Dureza and Mondeuse Blanche), the same genetic history, the same basic aromatic profile: dark fruit, spice, pepper, medium-to-high tannins.

No: what ends up in the glass labelled ‘Shiraz’ and what ends up labelled ‘Syrah’ are often wines with very different profiles, structures, and expectations. The name signals a stylistic intention: Australian Shiraz tends towards warmth, roundness, and immediate accessibility; northern Rhône Syrah tends towards verticality, austerity, and longevity.

Syrah vs Shiraz

And now the contest between Syrah and Shiraz, taking two bottles as examples.

The Saint-Joseph ‘La Dardouille’ 2017 by Emmanuel Darnaud was paired with a shakshuka. It was a mid-winter evening and my expectations were modest: an honest Saint-Joseph at an honest price, nothing more. Wrong. The nose was closed, almost gruff: blackberries, lacquer, liquorice, green pepper. Then the palate. A dry contrast between the almost creamy sweetness of the fruit and the chalky structure surrounding it, like a labyrinth in which one becomes caught up in a dark plot that at some point reveals walls of basalt. Precise acidity, dusty and assertive tannins. A short but rich finish, with sandalwood prominent. With the shakshuka it did not work – the spiced flavours on the spiced dish cancelled each other out. A very good northern Rhône Syrah, at under thirty euros.

The Cunning Plan Shiraz 2021 by Thistledown was drunk with a Guinness beef stew, and already there I sensed that the wine and the dish were working towards separate goals: the wine was too light in structure to hold up against the density of the braise, and got lost. On the nose: chocolate nougat, spiced plums, rose petals – rich and immediate, without fuss. On the palate, the enveloping texture and full body were right, but the acidity stayed in the New World register, accommodating, without jolts. The soft tannins spread across the whole palate in a vague way. On the finish came pepper and black olives, a hint of embers – five seconds, pleasant, then done. A wine built to be exactly what it says it is, without deviation: as honest as the 17 euros I paid for it.

Who wins? The Darnaud, because it demands attention and repays it with depth. The Cunning Plan is a Shiraz that expects nothing and delivers exactly what it promises. Both make sense, depending on the evening. If the evening is relaxed and you want something accommodating, the Thistledown is an honest and affordable choice – a good wine. If you want to be challenged, Darnaud is still available at interesting prices and offers great pleasure.