Despite the calls to duty asking us to embrace Chenin Blanc as the National South African White Grape and the reactionary colourful spats generated by the Sauvignon Blanc fraternity, there is only one real South African white wine worth taking to an international gun-fight, and he be Chardonnay.
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Like the rich, the French are different. In what way? Well, going into detail cannot be done before proper broadband comes to South Africa as the reasoning is bound to be expansive.
Wine, for example, is one area in which the French are different from other nations.
Still the greatest wine country on earth. Has been and always will be. Blah.Blah. Agreed.
In the spirit of Bastille Day celebrations, thus, I’d like to take a look at five South African winemakers who to my mind have ?+¦-+???+¦-ú?-¦?+¦-ú?+¦+¦ knowingly or otherwise ?+¦-+???+¦-ú?-¦?+¦-ú?+¦+¦ been infected with French genes of vinous brilliance. Doubting Thomases can taste it in their wines.
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So I get this craving, and I must have it. Feel the stirring. The brooding expectation. The sense of “what am I going to do if I don’t get it”?
Drive down to the dodgy part of town to satisfy the desire. Park in darkness. Enter the subtly neon-lit building in one of Cape Town’s side-streets. They are waiting. And yes, there is the object of my want. In front of me. To be had for a few bucks.
The place is DVD Nouveau, the movie Barton Fink. An all-time favourite, the kind of film that calls to be viewed periodically.
It is made by the Coen brothers, Joel and Ethan. Tells the story of an anal pseudo-intellectual playwright whose pretentious writings stir the attentions of Hollywood. Pretty soon this stuck-up pseudo has sold his soul, exchanging the intellectual zone of Broadway for the cheap commercialism of Hollywood.
Pretty much like Tim James leaving the Mail & Guardian for a wine gig with the Daily Sun.
Anyway, got the movie. And heading off to Casa Emilio for cinematic satisfaction, a spot of thirst gets me to stop at Vino Pronto, a cute little wine shop in the Gardens. Despite the shelves of aforementioned Casa groaning with freebies, I decide to drop some cash on the wine industry. Help them pay for their WIETA audits, methinks.
Believe in fate? The zone? In Pronto Wine Shop?
Right there, before me. On the Chardonnay shelf: Crystallum Chardonnay.
Yup, that’s the vino connected to one Peter-Allan Finlayson, a winemaker who has always reminded me of someone who has just stepped out of a Coen Brother movie. Trendy. Cool. Dishevelled in a cultivated manner. Most of all, self-effacing and humorous. Like the Coens, it must also be said that the dude’s bit of an artist.
,Crystallum’s set of Pinot Noirs has built-up a pretty solid reputation since the release of the 2008 vintage thanks to the superb quality of the wines made from Hemel-en-Aarde fruit, with some Elgin stuff thrown into the Peter Max wine. The other number is, of course, the pants-wetting brilliant Cuv+¬e Cinema.
This was, however, my maiden venture in to the realm of Crystallum Chardonnay 2009,which, incidentally carries the name of “The Agnes” who was Peter-Allan’s great-grandmother.
Having dropped just over R150 on Crystallum The Agnes Chardonnay from Peter-Allan Finlayson I headed off for a date with Barton Fink.
Look, if Barton Fink the writer ever did kick back to talk about wine, he could have told one helluva story about this. Problem is, it would be long and boring and aimed at sparking off a riot by page 23.
But I’ll just stick to the fact that this is one helluva wine.
Made from three vineyards – two Hemel-en-Aarde way and one out towards Greyton ?+¦-+???+¦-ú?-¦?+¦-ú?+¦+¦ there is a lot going on here in terms of expression. The first is a perfumed decadence and the second a trance-inducing broadness. No lean mineral linearity of limestone soils. No calculated intricacies of lees management to coax a featured Chardonnay personality from the fruit. The wine just gushes rich beauty and deliciousness and is a fine example of why Chardonnay remains the greatest white grape on the planet. No other variety is able of deploying this level of sensorial seduction on an unsuspecting movie lover just wanting to concentrate on a favourite film.
I had to stop Barton’s rantings every now and again with the “pause” button, enabling me to get to grips with the wine.
Was that a hint of Meursault-like hot buttered popcorn on the Crystallum? Yes. Montrachet potpourri? Indeed. O look, a bit of Santenay pebbles. Beaune waxiness? Is true, my bru.
Completing the myriad flavours is aforementioned heady perfume. If more wines smelt like this beautiful aromatic number I’d understand why wine-buffs are forever sticking their schnozzes into the glass.
The other is the palate weight. Like a fine silk kimono, it lies lightly, lies softly. Feels fine.
Just to be sure, I went back to Pronto the next day for another two bottles of Crystallum. And was assured that, yes, nostalgia can indeed be what it used to be.
On a factual basis, the wine is wooded, 2nd fill French. Nine months on the lees. Minimal stirring, shaking and prodding.
Less is more, dude, less is more. No matter how big the craving.
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Let’s delve into 2012. What are the predictions for this year’s vinous calendar? Here are four. Readers are invited to add a fifth. The best entry will receive a bottle from WineGoggle’s private cellar. Continue reading
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Heading out to Beaune, France in September, my Frog Mates have asked me to present a tasting in Pommard. I love doing tastings in Burgundy. Most would think it is all quiet, serious, scientific and critically French.
Not on your aunt’s bidet.
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What do Marvin Shanken and Johann Rupert have in common? Besides having – as publisher of Wine Spectator and owner of L’Ormarins respectively – a bit of influence on the wine world, that is.
Well believe it or not, but both have a bit of a culinary soft-spot for the South African ?+¦-+???+¦-ú?-¦?+¦-ú?+¦+¦ and truly South African ?+¦-+???+¦-ú?-¦?+¦-ú?+¦+¦ item known as a braaibroodjie. Continue reading
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If God was a wine lover, the Grabouw-Elgin area would be his kind of place. In a country blessed with arguably the most splendid wine-land scenery anywhere on earth, this region of valleys, mountains, rocks, orchards and lakes must count among South Africa’s finest. It is also producing some pants-wetting gorgeous wines, with Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, Sauvignon Blanc and Riesling having thrust Elgin into the fore.
Oak Valley also produces a passable Bordeaux-blend, and Shannon has caused a few rattling Zimmerframes and pacer-recharging with its bulky Merlot. And then there are the brisk, refined bubblies produced by the late Ross Gower, wines whose legacy is fortunately still with us.
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I wanted wines from the World Cup vintage, not fleeting virginal un-wooded Sauvignon Blancs or Chenins, but something that had been given the full monty. Autolysis and batonage and wood, and time.
Fortunately in the release-them-quick environs of the South African wine industry, this is not hard to find. Actually, it is immensely easy. All you have to do is look like a writer, hack, blogger kind-of-thing, walk into a winery where you happen to know the owner-manager-PR-poppie, and Bob’s your Auntie?+¦-+???+¦-ú?-¦?+¦-+?-+..an unlabelled bottle of 2010-whatever is yours, on the house.
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The beautiful people were there, tanned and bare-fleshed; long-limbed with gleaming white teeth and discreetly clattering jewellery, and smelling o-so-lovely as you walked by. And those were just the guys.
French Toast, wine and tapas emporium in Bree Street, Cape Town is hot, hip and happening. Also very good. Hammer wine selection. Fine stemware. Also, it understands tapas. Fresh and tasty, and just-so portioned with fresh bread. White anchovies and calamari to die for. Check out the charcuterie. Cheese. Sausage. Sauces.
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