The primary enjoyment of wine, obviously, lies in aroma and in taste, with texture and persistence on the palate becoming discernible as one’s appreciation of the vinous intruder grows. Its visual significance is fleeting, as those who remember judging wines to the 20pt score and having to assign a rating out of 5pts for “colour” can attest to.
Sometimes, however, a wine’s visual relevance becomes as much a part of its complete song as the visceral sensorial aspects due to one’s admiration of the place from whence it comes.
Thus, Sauvignon Blanc from the Fryer’s Cove vineyards lying within splash distance from the Atlantic Ocean at Doringbaai, rooted in russet soils and exposed to the drone of breakers and the shrieks of wayward seabirds, draws an appeal complementing the flavours of white fruit, lime-zest and salt-lick, omnipresent in this wine. So, too, the Cabernet Sauvignon from Kanonkop’s vineyards, looking north-west to Cape Town from its perch on the koppies with the foreboding gunmetal presence of Simonsberg guarding from behind.
So, the memory bank clicked “on” as Chris Williams poured his latest release, a Chardonnay 2023 from the Geographica marque made from vineyards growing out Piekenierskloof way in the Citrusdal Valley, and named “Aletheia”. Before I had picked up the glass, my attention had already been gained, the fascinating dreamlike thoughts on the glorious white grape of Burgundy. The grape originating from the vineyards worked by monks in poor rocky soils of eastern France, having been transported to Africa south, planted in the Piekenierskloof region some two hours drive north of Cape Town and an area straddling man’s desire to tame and to farm on land with a raw wilderness beauty where nature can never truly be conquered.
Tough country, about 260mm of rain in a good year with summers that, as I have experienced on farms in the area, being sun-baked and hellish. Lower down, the soils are sandy, but moving up towards the Citrusdal mountains, loam takes over, making for better, more productive farming of vines and rooibos tea and citrus and nuts.
Wine-wise, Chenin Blanc and Grenache have been the hook for hanging Piekenierskloof and Citrusdal’s hat, aided by the fact that much of the vines are old, thus giving good story. These cultivars make wines of character, the fruits’ inherently scholared European elegance enhanced by a feral, rugged charm.
Meeting a fine Chardonnay in this company is a revelation, although my wonder at the space from whence it comes might just have elevated the appreciation thereof. What are expectations worth, after-all, it they are not to be exceeded?
Chris sourced the Chardonnay from Tierhoek, one of the established wineries out Piekenierskloof way and one of which he knows – Chris vinified the first Tierhoek Chenin Blanc in 2003 before setting off to take the winemaking reigns at Meerlust. And when looking for a Chardonnay to add to his Geographica range – Chenin Blanc and Cabernet Franc – the call of Piekenierskloof came-a-asking.
Here, the Chardonnay grows at 760m above sea level on loam soils, the elevation ensuring stark variation in diurnal temperature. Ripening grapes bask in the sun as it moves over to set west on the Atlantic Ocean, and on those star-speckled nights, the temperature drops, allowing the fruit to rest, drawing reserves in a state of chilled calm, ready for the next day’s solar onslaught.
The fruit is whole-bunch pressed directly into a tripartite of fermentation and aging vessels: seasoned French oak, terracotta egg and clay dolia (basically a breed of amphora). Malolactic fermentation ensued after the primary ferment, and the wines matured in the vessels for 13 months before blending and bottling under the label Geographica Aletheia Chardonnay 2023.
Chris is a scholar of ancient history, and Aletheia refers to the terms “truth” or “unconcealed” in ancient Greek, as per the aphorism “Oinos Kai Aletheia”, which means “from wine emerges truth”. This was first used by the smart Greek philosopher Plato in 370BC, centuries before the Romans began making “in vino veritas” the go-to term for wine promoters.
But what lies in that glass of Aletheia Chardonnay, well, it ain’t Greek to me. It is just a wonderous thing, the wonder being in its delectable class as well as a cursory wondering if Piekenierskloof is not capable of joining the ranks of the Cape’s great Chardonnay regions. If the variety receives the kind of meticulous attention here as shown by Chris’s Geographica and Johan Kruger’s renditions from Kruger Family Wines, then Piekenierskloof and Citrusdal can be riveting additions to the Cape’s Chardonnay palette. The far-flung region’s distinctive natural allure will assure further appeal in terms of garnering attention from media and buyers, raising the reality that this area is not limited to Chenin Blanc and Grenache, but can assert its geography on the world’s finest white grape, too.
One only has to experience Geographica Aletheia to realise this.
It is sculpted to beautiful classic curves, port-side of the mineral austerity and anorexic leanness that is still too often considered the way to go in presenting modern Chardonnay. In this wine, it is about taste and pleasure, of show and of impressing, as the harness is unleashed to permit the grape to run free and give all it wants to give.
Aromas of toffee-apple and garrique are lashed together, fun, decadent, and intoxicating. To the mouth, a sunny butteriness asking to be liked, to give joy. On the mid-palate balance, poise and harmony are found, and all that is so very fine about Chardonnay comes together. A slight tartness, quince-like, ensures freshness and crunch. This invigoration is followed by thick-peel Cape lemon, waxy and dappled with earth-bound tastes of Sandveld Kukumakranka (Gethyllis), marzipan and oatmeal. Brightness lasts throughout the wine, jasmine and mace with splashes of green plum, ebbing as the wine’s initial golden glow has the last word.
Tasting makes you wonder, but seeing is believing.
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