For twenty five years, British wine writer Matthew Jukes championed Australian wine to the rest of the world, and this month we lost him. He was a familiar face in Western Australia, most recently as a guest judge at the 2023 West Australian Good Food Guide Wine Awards, held at the State Buildings. He left an enormous impression on the WAGFG during his time in Western Australia for his passion, professional acumen and as a warm, generous human. He was also great fun, and the world needs more of that.
Writing after the event, Matthew described being invited on stage for a chat with Mike Bennie, having spent the afternoon tasting the Top 25 wines blind to select his own favourite, the Silver Bullet. His pick that day was the 2022 Deep Woods Estate Reserve Chardonnay from Margaret River. He thanked the WAGFG team for the invitation, and the judging panel of Mike Bennie, Nick Ryan, Erin Larkin, Emma Farrelly and Nina Throsby for the results. He signed off, as he so often did, with congratulations to the winners.
It was a small piece of writing, a wrap up of an awards night, the sort of thing he must have filed hundreds of times over his career. But it captures something true about him. Even in a short paragraph, the credit went to everyone else, not a beat missed. The judges got their names in full. The winery got its full title and region. That was simply Matthew.
That same generosity runs through every tribute that has come in from the Australian wine industry over the past weeks. We share a selection of them below.
Nina Throsby, Sommelier
The first time I met Matthew Jukes, I spelt his name wrong. He’d been brought over for the WA Good Food Guide, and we were at The Shorehouse tasting Chenin Blanc on the deck. I wrote his name down with a D, as in Dukes, an easy mistake to make given we’ve got a Dukes of our own in the Porongurups. He clocked it straight away and thought it was the funniest thing. He teased me about it for years, and I’d have let him do it for years more. It was the tone of it from the very beginning, and it never really changed.
We stayed in touch, and when he found out I was coming to London in 2025 for the Decanter awards, he was almost more excited than I was. He organised an unforgettable lunch, a secret members club, incredible wines, off menu dishes, but the lunch wasn’t the point. The point was that he wanted to open doors he had no obligation to open, for someone a long way from home who he simply decided to back and believe in. That was Matthew. The mentorship, the enthusiasm, the great big unembarrassed love for the game. He gave his time to people who couldn’t do a thing for him in return, and he did it as though it were the most natural thing in the world, as though we were doing him the favour.
The last time we worked together was at the Sydney Royal Wine Show. A late call up from De Iuliis, and one I’ll be endlessly grateful for. A few days on a bench beside him, laughter, wine, and a particular options game that is etched into my conscience forever. I didn’t know they would be the last memories we made together, and as far as memories go, they were pretty great ones.
There are people in this industry who take from it, and there are people who give to it. Matthew gave, and gave, and never once made you feel the weight of it. He lifted young sommeliers. He championed producers nobody else had noticed yet. He made every room warmer for walking into it. His generosity wasn’t strategic, it was just how he was built, and the industry is a kinder place because of it.
Many great things could be said about Matthew, but the one that sings the loudest is that he was simply good for the sport.
Matthew Swinney, Swinney
No individual did more in the modern era to champion Australian fine wine in the United Kingdom than Matthew Jukes. His writing combined extraordinary insight and meticulous attention to detail with genuine affection, boundless energy and unmistakable authenticity. His advocacy for Australia’s finest wines, and his determination that they be recognised as distinctive, site driven wines of international standing, was without equal.
But that is not why we loved Jukesy. We loved him for his rapier sharp wit, wicked sense of humour, infectious enthusiasm and boundless love of food, wine and life. He was invariably the most entertaining person at the table, yet possessed the rare gift of making everyone around him feel interesting, and just a little bit special.
As a dinner companion, he was like the mischievous brother I never had: gloriously irreverent, endlessly entertaining and impossible not to adore. You never wanted the evening to end. No visit to London ever felt quite complete without dinner, or at the very least a martini, with Jukesy.
Our thoughts are with Matthew’s wife Amelia and children Isadora, Elspeth, Rollo and Victor.
Larry Jorgensen, Wines of WA
Matthew was more than a champion for Western Australian wine; he helped the world discover the people who make it and the land on which it is grown.
For decades, Matthew was one of Australia’s most passionate and influential advocates in the international wine community. His enthusiasm was genuine, generous and infectious, and his belief in Western Australia held particular significance for our industry.
He came to our regions, met winemakers and growers, tasted widely and shared what he discovered with audiences far beyond our shores.
Through his writing, judging, masterclasses and influential 100 Best Australian Wines, Matthew helped create a larger audience for Australian wine in the UK and internationally. Western Australian producers featured prominently in that work, and his recognition was never only about scores or accolades. He understood the ambition and resilience of the people who make Western Australian wine unique.
Matthew gave producers confidence, gave our regions a voice in international conversations and challenged international audiences to look again at Western Australia as home to some of Australia’s most compelling wines.
His sudden passing is an enormous loss to Australian wine and to the many people around the world who knew him, worked with him or simply looked forward to hearing what he had discovered next.
Erin Larkin, Wine Writer
Matthew was many things: clever, quick, charming, joyful, but I will always remember him most fondly for his generosity. He gave his time, his spirit and his heart freely and openly. Australian wine had a champion in him so rarely seen off our shores, it almost felt as if he was one of us, despite his strength being that he wasn’t. The last time I saw Matthew was in a place far away from both of our homes, and we spoke into the night about the future of our profession and what more there was to do, what more we could do. I wish I could call him and finish that conversation. If anything other than sadness can come from something so tragic, it must be a reminder to be more generous, more joyful and more hopeful. The world needs more of that.
Larry Cherubino, Cherubino
Having known Matthew for over 25 years, there was one thing about him that was never in doubt: his unwavering belief in Australia, its people and the wines we made here.
He supported us and our ambitions with a generosity and devotion that meant an enormous amount to all of us. But what I remember most about Matthew wasn’t just his support, it was his zest for life and wicked sense of humour. He had this remarkable ability to lift your spirits, time with Matthew somehow left you feeling a little lighter, happier and more optimistic than when you arrived.
That was a rare gift, and one I will miss terribly. Beyond all of that, Matthew was one of our greatest friends.
He was also, in many ways, a wonderful throwback to a bygone era, part fop, part lad and part gentleman. He had a natural charm, wit and elegance, and underneath it all was an enormous warmth, generosity and a genuine interest in people.
People like Matthew are increasingly rare. He left an impression on everyone who had the privilege of knowing him, and he certainly left a very deep one on me.
We will miss him dearly.
Nick Ryan, Wine Writer
Ahhh, this is a right kick in the balls. I’ll use this picture as my clumsy attempt at this modern way of memorialising, because this was a good day. It started badly, wrestling with a hangover that had blood on its fangs and drool on its lips, but we righted the ship with a bracing swim off Rottnest and a few equally bracing bottles. While I mocked the skipper’s song choices on the bumpy ride back, you celebrated them, bellowing into the breeze. At a lunch of suitably Jukesian pacing and duration, nobody else got to see the wine list. Not because of ego or a need to control, just the usual excitement and desire to share. Then off to the airport, to get back to what really mattered.
Sometimes it seemed like Wodehouse had written you for us, but he couldn’t have captured the nuance and depth. I’ve never known another writer so willing to praise others, so ready to celebrate their successes, so eager to pull others up to where you rightfully sat.
Your words were wonderful, tasting with you always a joy. If you left me a tenth of your talent and a fifth of your work ethic, I’d be a hundred times better than I am.
Go well mate, until the time comes when I get to see a halo trying to hang on that hair.