Let’s hear it for the grape, for once. Being a red-blooded Afrikaner distilled from farming stock on both sides, I like earth and dirt and the wild rhythms of climate as much as anybody. And yes, this thing rapping to the tune of terroir is a no-cannot-do in the melody played by wine’s orchestra. But sometimes I feel the need to take a step back and focus on the grapes themselves: the diversity of varieties out there, the DNA pedigree built into each cultivar, and the particularity of character they show.

Since being exposed to the wines of Thamnus, the winery out Overberg way on the far side of Upper Hemel-en-Aarde, the thing that struck me was the absolute tuning-fork precision in the way Thamnus delivers its two wines, namely Chardonnay and Pinot Noir.

Talk of these two Burgundy varieties tends to centre especially on matters of geography and terroir, the reason being that this French region has pretty much claimed the wine world’s most authentic lineage to soil, climate and slope. So anyone making Pinot Noir and Chardonnay, from Margaret River to Marlborough, Stellenbosch to Tuscany, will be obliged to underscore terroir as the driving force behind their interpretations of these two varieties.

For me, however, I look at the Thamnus wines and just think: grape. And the deliciousness of these wines, a gorgeous, tasty moreishness originating from green-gold and purple-black bunches of berries growing on vines planted in neat rows under the endless African skies of the Overberg.

The recent releases of Thamnus Chardonnay and Pinot Noir, vintages 2023 and 2022 respectively – my second vintage encounters of the Thamnus kind – underscore the fact that the winery has developed a signature note with which to ascribe its wines. Namely, absolute purity of expression of the two varieties themselves, providing consumers with the sensorial experience of why these cultivars are so desirable for those with a partiality to fine red and white wine. This is as much a result of the quality of fruit as it is the attention of Thamnus’s engaging winemaker, PJ Geyer, who together with marketer Bubbles Hyland creates a sprinkling of sparkling voices to back up the brand.

Chardonnay 2023, well, that was the vintage of storms. Being Chardonnay, the grapes came in before the heavens opened and torrents of water cried havoc. Half of the grapes were whole-bunch pressed, with the juice naturally settling for 48 hours in stainless steel before being transferred to barrel. The other half was destemmed, pressed, and settled with enzymes for 24 hours. Fermentation lasted around two weeks, after which the barrels were topped and the wine matured for nine months, 29% in new wood.

By the time I cracked the Thamnus Chardonnay 2023, the wine had more than a year’s bottle age, an aspect to which I ascribe its overriding feature – generosity. A comforting taste of something at home in its own skin, without the edgy, neurotic manners of younger, rushed wines that are forced into trying too hard to please.

And this is where Chardonnay shows true beauty: an inviting embrace reverberating with kindness and pride in its sense of self, as layers of aroma, flavour and textural delight are unveiled in a manner capable of rekindling the most joyless soul.

It smells like Chardonnay from three paces, a marzipan waxiness offset by jasmine, honeysuckle and sorrel, with just an ever-so-slight crisp crack of fynbos wilderness offering a mysterious, feral calling.

As the first rivulet pierces the keenly waiting lips, the mind eases into terrain both familiar and bewildering. There is the flavour of Chardonnay, here statuesquely carved from a block of Carrara marble warmed in the air of a Tuscan summer. Heavy-peeled citrus fruit – mounds of it – but sun-soaked and joyous instead of mineral and mouth-puckering. Hazelnuts, grilled and bashed into slivers, strut alongside the citrus, while a precocious, darting spot of nectared sweetness latches onto nuts and lemon, offering a moment of vinous harmony.

And, of course, mouthfeel allows all this to occur to its absolute utmost. The wine is vigorous in the assertive manner with which it speaks Chardonnay – lots of energy and thrust. But a set of supple, worked-in leather reins manages the reverberating, eager gallops of flavour and all-encompassing presence, leading to profundity and an extraordinary experience. Of wine, and of its child named Chardonnay.

Pinot Noir, apparently, hates to have the term “typicity” thrust upon it. For this, check the worry in my eyes: because Thamnus Pinot Noir 2022 is unashamed in its offering of textbook Pinot Noir traits, unblemished by talk of terroir-driven curiosities that mostly just complicate things, wanting the consumer to believe he or she is partaking in a cult-like or religious experience when all you want is a great glass of wine tasting like Pinot.

In the cellar, PJ and the Thamnus team skipped whole-bunch fermentation. They didn’t need it, as the season’s glowing sunlight had already given the fruit enough tannic backbone. Instead: controlled extraction in five-ton fermenters, gentle pump-overs, and a 10-day maceration. No theatrics, just confidence. Natural malolactic, ten months in 36% new French oak, enough polish to shine, not enough to smother.

It opens with rose petals and violets, but not the perfumed kind, more like the smell that lingers on your shirt after walking through a high mountain field at dawn.

On the palate: red cherries, wild raspberries and – textbook Pinot Noir here – a touch of forest floor and a dab of allspice. An earthy, honest, grounded impression where land, agriculture and a refined mystical allure meet. There is a dance between freshness and texture, acidity and fine tannins. The wine is bold and opulent, with enough grace and craftsmanship to give one a sense of what this ethereal grape named Pinot Noir is truly made of.

In terroir we trust. But it’s the grape itself that allows us to truly believe.