For a country of scarcely 4 million souls, New Zealand has created an outsize stir in the wine world. It’s happened so quickly, and on such a globe-spanning scale, that it begs credulity. Keep in mind that New Zealand has no real tradition of wine growing. Unlike Australia, which can point to 150 years of wine-grape cultivation, New Zealand had only a spotty tradition of wine, if that. The old Kiwi slang for wine was “Dally plonk,” a reference to the red wine produced in the early 20th century by immigrants from Dalmatia. Like our old term of derision, “dago red,” it speaks volumes about just how alien wine was in the culture.

That said, wine in New Zealand is not entirely new. Cultivation on any real scale dates to the 1960s. But the early planting decisions employed such second-rate grapes as Muller-Thurgau and other less-than-stellar hybrid varieties. These grapes were used because the wise men of the day deemed New Zealand – even its warmer North Island – too cool for successful cultivation of the great European grape varieties.

By the early 1980s, New Zealand had some 14,000 acres of vines, 85% of which were found on the North Island. Quality will out, which is to say that the wines were so unattractive that prices plunged. Too many of these plantings were ill-advised, to such a degree that the government actually subsidized their removal. Really, they were starting, if not from Square One, then a mere half-square ahead. At least they knew what not to plant.

Then came the South Island, specifically the northern tip of it called Marlborough. A few adventurous growers installed sauvignon blanc. It was the right grape in the right place. Marlborough-grown sauvignon blanc burst onto the world scene in the mid-1980s, powered by repeated triumphs in various tastings in England and America by one winery in particular, Cloudy Bay. It became the ambassador winery and to this day is still so sought after that its more than 100,000 cases are on allocation. Of course, numerous other producers followed in Cloudy Bay’s footsteps, some equaling or exceeding this landmark wine. (One such is Dog Point Vineyard, the 2004 vintage of which was recently recommended in this space.)

From that triumph, New Zealand has high-jumped from one accomplishment to the next. Which brings us – and brought me – to one of the most remote wine-growing areas in the world, the Central Otago zone at the southern end of South Island.

Central Otago’s claim to fame is pinot noir. Now, wine has its hierarchies like any other pursuit. Just like being a great pitcher is another (and rarer) order of accomplishment than being, say, a second baseman, so, too, does wine have its scale of respect. However good Marlborough sauvignon blanc is, hey, it’s still only sauvignon blanc. As Dorothy Parker said of Katharine Hepburn’s acting, it runs the gamut from A to B. Even the greatest sauvignon blanc is still a limited thing.

But pinot noir is something else. It’s the Shakespearean height of wine, acknowledged by all as the pinnacle of the art but suited only for a lucky few. Improbably, Central Otago turned out to have the gift.

So rare is this – and so promising is Central Otago’s gift – that it has attracted world attention in the space of fewer than 10 years. Indeed, the great majority of the area’s 3,500 acres of pinot noir are little more than five years old, if that. (Vineyard planting is so frenzied in Central Otago that nobody seems to know the exact acreage.) It takes three years, by the way, for a grapevine to bear fruit.

In short, Central Otago pinot noir in the bottle really only dates to the late 1990s.Yet like a note in a bottle from a desert island survivor reaching home the first time out, Central Otago pinot noir caught the world’s attention.

What’s it got? Pure pinot noir fruit. A good Central Otago pinot is like drinking the unalloyed essence of pinot noir, an intensive burst of raspberry, black cherry, leather, and subtle spice flavors. This is rare. Because pinot noir, like Doris Day, gives it up so rarely, when the event does occur, it’s news.

As is well known, pinot noir requires – demands is a better term – a cool climate. For decades, California producers tried their hand at growing the grape, only to find an indeterminate red wine that was drinkable but hardly representative of the breed. It was only when they started planting in areas once deemed (by ill-informed but influential university professors) as too cool for commercial wine-growing that California pinot noir really began to grasp the real goods. Today, genuinely cool zones such as Carneros, Russian River Valley, Sonoma Coast, Anderson Valley, Santa Lucia Highlands, Santa Maria Valley, Edna Valley, and Santa Rita Hills – to say nothing of Oregon’s Willamette Valley – have made American pinot noir real contenders.

And how cool is Central Otago? For starters, it’s the southernmost vineyard district in the world. Vineyards lap the bases of various mountains in several different valleys or basins with names such as Gibbston Valley, Cromwell, Bannockburn, Alexandra, and Wanaka. Some are cooler (Gibbston Valley) while others are warmer, such as Cromwell and Alexandra.

Sunlight intensity is, well, intense. The ozone layer hereabouts is thinning fast, which means higher levels of ultraviolet light. Some theorize that this contributes to the ripening of the grapes, creating more intense flavors than might otherwise be found in such a cool climate.

Whatever the reasons, Central Otago pinot noirs have created a stir. Collectively, they are luscious wines, plumped with strong whiffs of black cherry, plum, and cassis. This leads, sometimes too often, to what’s called “fruit bombs.” (Many drinkers actually like fruit bombs, but it’s meant to be a derisive term.) Such wines – and the category extends to other grapes such as merlot and cabernet as well – are characterized by opulent fruitiness coupled with too little refreshing acidity (“flabby”).

But when they’re good, Central Otago pinots are like no other on the planet. Are they like red Burgundies? Not at all. They’re too intensively fruity for that. But are they true pinot noirs. Unmistakably yes. Central Otago has added a new leaf to an old book, creating a never-before-tasted version of authentic pinot noir, much like California’s Santa Lucia Highlands has done, as well as other pinot noir originals such as Sonoma Coast.

All this is so new that the amount of attention is head-spinning. Central Otago pinots are now commonly found on high-end restaurant wine lists (along with Marlborough-grown sauvignon blancs) in probably every major city in Great Britain and America, to say nothing of Australia and, of course, New Zealand. It’s the newest wine darling for sure.

They’re not, however, cheap. If anything, they’re probably a bit overpriced at anywhere from $30 to $50 a bottle. (If it’s any consolation, they’re spendy here in New Zealand as well.) The weakness of the dollar isn’t helping. Where once a New Zealand dollar cost us a mere 40 cents, now it’s about 70 cents.

Still, if you’re pinot noir-curious, you really should investigate Central Otago’s offerings. Other grape varieties, by the way, such as sauvignon blanc, chardonnay, and Riesling are also grown in the zone, but honesty compels me to steer you from them. Most of these are marginal wines at best. Only pinot noir shines.

HERE’S THE DEAL

Central Otago pinot noirs can be found with surprisingly little difficulty in New York, although selection is limited. However, vineyard expansion is so rapid that distribution of new labels is expanding commensurately. What’s not here today could very well (even likely) be found a few months later.

Also, vintages matter in such a cool climate. The ripest vintage – and the one you should choose, if available – is 2002. It’s the warmest year Central Otago has seen and, not surprisingly, the pinot noirs from 2002 are richer, fuller, and denser than usual. The 2003 vintage was classically cooler, but very fine, if more variable from producer to producer.

The following Central Otago pinot noirs can be found from one or another of New York’s larger wine retailers (Sherry-Lehman, Zachy’s, D. Sokolin, Union Square, among others): Felton Road, Two Paddocks (owned by actor Sam Neill), Rippon, Chard Farm, Mount Difficulty, and Peregrine, among others.

Vintages for each vary in availability as demand has been spotty and some wines have remained on the shelves and consequently are not restocked with the latest vintage. Also, look for these producers on good restaurant lists.