The Old Miller and the Marlin

Photo: Black Label Charters, Cairns, Australia

I hadn’t killed a marlin for some time now, so I decided to go out and eat one. Not a whole thousand pound fish, mind you. At least, not in one sitting.

This lust for game-fish lead me to Miller’s Thumb, the restaurant that has for over two decades been a local institution to those residing in the Cape Town City Bowl. It does fish and some meat, as well as having the kind of casual homely atmosphere that makes one tend to frequent the joint often, if only to hang at the small bar talking to other locals about killing fish with surface lures, tools with which to trim beards and the current tattoo fashions.

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Heading for the Rural Hills of Stellenbosch Shiraz

If American authors Raymond Carver and Charles Bukowski had shown more interest in visiting wine farms than drinking themselves into painfully advanced stages of cirrhosis, my guess is that Bottelary would have been their favourite parts of the Stellenbosch Wine Route. For this is still real farmer country, here along the Bottelary Road. Where wineries and houses and sheds look like they are lived and worked in, perched on hills covered in low-level bush-vines, industrial looking bulk wine dealers jostling for attention with hard-drinking houses known around here as Bush Pubs or Divorce Activators.

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Riding the Epic with Sauvignon Blanc, and Winning Gold

Thys Louw, left, from Diemersdal with cousin Thys after Stage One of the Epic.

Diemersdal wine maker Thys Louw had just finished the first stage of the world’s toughest mountain-bike race, the Cape Epic, when he heard that he’d won two gold medals. Not on the bike, but at the Concours Mondial du Sauvignon 2018, the world’s premier international showcase for Sauvignon Blanc wine. Diemersdal took gold for the MM Louw 2016 and Eight Rows 2017, two of the wines from this Durbanville estate renowned for its interpretations of South Africa’s and one of the world’s most popular white wine varieties.

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Making Great Wine a Numbers Game with Kleine Zalze

In general, players in the modern South African wine industry have been relatively slow to recognise the importance of brand-building, preferring the micro approach of marketing centuries-old buildings, terroir-driven vineyard sites and finely-tuned artists working among a few rows of barrels lined-up in a dank cellar. With the importance of economy of scale in driving a successful business coming increasingly to the fore as a non-negotiable part of the business model, Brand Building in Wine 101 is now all the rage, and one of the names popping up on the case-study list is Stellenbosch’s Kleine Zalze.

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Book Review: “Switchbitch” by Chris von Ulmenstein

Switchbitch – My Journey of Transformation from Sour to Sweet, by Chris von Ulmenstein. Tandym Press. 2018.

The problem with the internet and the permissive blogging this encourages is not so much it giving anybody with a pulse and a keyboard a platform on which to write. More disconcerting is that participation in the on-line space actually gives some people the belief that they can write, when there should be a universal law prohibiting their ambitions of stepping outside the temporary blogosphere wherein the viewer can be rescued by the delete button.

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A Rosé by any Other Name is Still Damn Fine

That one-dimensional slogan once used by a beer company was totally off-the mark. Because real men – and women – do, in fact, drink pink drinks. And a hell of a lot of it when it comes to matters wine.

Anyone who has spent a spring or summer in the South of France would know that rosé wine is not so much drunk there as inhaled. And here, further South, Africans have reconnected with rosé now that more producers are creating wines of a less syrupy sweet nature than those that were so hip, hot and happening in the bygone era of bell-bottoms, tie-dye, Monkey Gland steaks and Ford Cortinas.

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A Dry White Reason for Sauvignon Blanc

So here we are, the first discussion of a wine from the 2018 vintage. That’s right, this is the Dry Year characterised by the worst domestic water shortages in the history of Cape Town, black-bass having to learn the leopard crawl due to empty dams and Premier Helen Zille sporting a water-saving, unwashed hair-do resembling a wombat that had gotten hold of a tub of Vaseline.

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Viva Las Vega-Sicilia, Viva

Like Simba’s tomato sauce-flavoured chips, fresh abalone, Iron Brew and red Vienna sausages, the taste of wine made from the Tempranillo grape still sticks to me, conjuring memories of an ill-spent – yet well-fed – youth. Anyone back-packing through Europe in his or her late teens during the 1980’s and finding yourself holed down in Spain, will attest to consuming Spanish Tempranillo – mainly from Rioja – by the bucket-load. It was plentiful, ubiquitous and available in cheap flagons. A burst of berries, that wanted comforting alcoholic hit and then a plush finish, the result of Rioja makers’ love of using American oak.

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