There is a special kind of generosity only certain people understand, namely those who share a love of the sea and the pursuit of the fish swimming beneath its mysterious glimmering surface. If someone agrees to lend you his or her fishing tackle for the pursuing of these creatures, it depicts a unique broad-hearted kindness, as there are few things more sacred to an angler than rods and reels, lures and leaders.
Philip Kriel is such a generous man.
I was once stuck with an invitation to fish a private stretch of beach on the Cape south-coast, but my own tackle was in disrepair. Philip heard of my quandary and offered me the use of one of his cherished Daiwa surf-casting reels, saying that my opportunity to fish that special stretch of water was not allowed to be hampered. “I won’t let you miss the chance of going there,” he said. “Just have a glass of wine on me when you braai that first galjoen.”
The reel casted true and it casted far into the thundering surf, and if I had one glass of wine for each fish braaied during that long week-end, the hang-over would still be here to this day.
When I saw that Philip had made his first wines, recently bottled under the Kriel Family Vineyards label, generosity immediately sprang to mind. He is a viticulturist and farmer running an expansive spread of vineyards in Stellenbosch’s Polkadraai. A son of the soil, with camaraderie and hospitality magnanimity being as far ingrained into his DNA as his Afrikaans-Italian heritage. Philip’s Italian grandfather, a prisoner-of-war who had stayed behind marrying a lady from his home country, worked vines in Simondium. Philip’s father Gabriel – “Grapes” as he is known – was viticulturist at Blaauwklippen, grafting side-by-side with the legendary winemaker Walter Finlayson.
The blooded rootstock for making wine is thus there, and the release of the maiden Kriel wines had been written in the stars, long time.
The two Kriel wines on the market represent the pastoral pedigree: a Barbera, the sensual grape of Piedmont in north-west Italy, and an oaked Chenin Blanc, a variety with which Philip has worked in the Stellenbosch vineyards for most of his professional life.
Like many wine-farmers, putting these two wines in the bottle is the culmination of many seasons spent in the vineyards, the result of that personal, quiet and infallible relationship the grape-grower has formed with his vineyards and the soils in which they live. It is, sort of, the same relationship a fisherman has with the sea, pondering its mysteries and wondering at the glorious bounties they hold for those who love and respect it.
Of the Kriel wines, the Barbera 2022 cloaks a soul of immense generosity, as well as fronds of vivacious conviviality. And, it must be said, deliciousness. Kriel is from a family where hospitality demands an open-hearted gathering around things of flavour, abundance and taste. This is in the Kriel Barbera 2022: delicious, luscious taste.
Often referred to as the less-noble, more rumbunctious cousin of Italy’s famed Nebbiolo, what Barbera lacks in the rapier, cool acidic thrust of Nebbiolo it gains in the way it spreads its broad-fruited comfort around the palate.
Kriel Barbera 2022 is from Stellenbosch, the vineyard on the Bonniemile slopes between the town and Polkadraai. Juice is free-run, fermented and then aged for 14 months in 2nd and 3rd fill French oak, further softening the wine and making it instantly drinkable on release.
There is an intoxicating aroma, almost heady in its feral perfume of dried thyme, sun-shrivelled black grapes and bramble, features which characterise some Amarone wines. But unlike the wrecking-ball, alcoholic whack of Amarone, this wine tempts the palate with a beautiful suppleness, almost velvety yet with enough freshness allowing the showy fruit offerings to glide, prod and coax.
Prunes, blackcurrant and damson provide an alluring density, warmed with notes of dried fig, tar and cigar-box (Havana, please). Tannins are enmeshed in the pillowed, bountiful flavours, yet rise as a gentle dark-moon tide to ensure a structured presence which is complete, from the attack on the palate, the mid-way stopover and right through to the long finish, almost desperate in its persistence.
If the Kriel Barbera is the robust ying, then its Chenin Blanc 2023 is the delicate yang. Philip knows this variety so well, I am sure he could have made it with closed-eyes, but then the brightness of the wine would have forced him to take a look.
Grapes are from the Stellenbosch Kloof region, single vineyard. Fermented and matured – 12 months – in new and 2nd fill barrels. And where the Kriel Barbera boldly goes where few men have gone before, the Chenin Blanc is coy, yet beautifully present in its austerity.
The nose is one of jasmine, the scent of spring and growth and white nectar. Wooding could only have been judicious, and barrels selected with eagle eyes as this Chenin Blanc is uncluttered and pure, not a hint of overtly pithy bitterness that results from boisterous wood or clumsy lees management. This is Chenin Blanc in all its clarity, unworked and over-delivering.
Tastes drift on a brisk breeze, the just-so sweetness of apricot grappling a more direct tangy note of kumquat. Winter melon is present, as well as a sliver of lusty Kiwi fruit, subdued by the wine’s overall balletic grace. It is fresh, without being overeager or having any tense, bracing shudder. Sun glows, more than shines, there are ripples rather than waves.
The generosity of it all only being surpassed by extreme gratitude.
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