Short Form Entries: Angela Lloyd

Wednesday, 3 June, 2015
Angela Lloyd
Franschhoek Literary Festival Wine Writers' Award winner Angela Lloyd shares her entries.

WINES OF SOUTH AFRICA BLOG

PINOT NOIR – PAST, PRESENT & FUTURE – DECEMBER 2014

INNOVATION BRINGS POSITIVE RESULTS - OCTOBER 2014

SIJNN – THE OPENING OF A NEW CELLAR IN A NEW AREA – MAY 2014

ORANGE WINES – APRIL 2014

OUTOFTHEPRESS.WORDPRESS.COM

EMPTY MEMORIES – 5/1/2015

DEAR SEMILLON – 5/9/2014

CABERNET RE-VISITED - 27/5/2014

FRENCH LESSONS – 14/3/2014

PINOT NOIR – PAST, PRESENT & FUTURE

According to Tim James in his book Wines of the New South Africa, pinot was probably imported in the 1920s by Professor Perold, who described it as producing ‘a wine of high quality … beautifully coloured, strong, full-bodied wine with an excellent bouquet.’ The grapes came from Stellenbosch University’s farm and, after it was introduced on Muratie on the Simonsberg later in the 1920s, Stellenbosch became the hub of pinot growing for several decades.

At the time, private wineries were few and far between, the co-ops concentrated on quantity rather than quality and the introduction of the quota system in 1957 often prohibited the opening up new, more suitable areas.

Pinot’s present fortunes really stem from the mid-1970s, when, despite lack of quota on one piece of land, Tim Hamilton Russell developed his eponymous winery in the Hemel-en-Aarde valley. Beyond the problem of illegality, was vine material: the sole clone available, BK5, was designed for sparkling wine rather than fine red table wine. Undaunted by these small hindrances, Hamilton Russell and his then winemaker, Peter Finlayson, produced some fine wines, but more important, they highlighted the valley’s pinot (and chardonnay) potential; potential since proven by the many others who’ve trekked south.

It says much that winemakers who’ve worked at Hamilton Russell Vineyards have all gone on to set up wineries in the valley, making great pinot being their main objective.

The introduction of new Dijon clones in the 1990s produced pinots of a totally new and alluring character. At the same time the quota system was abolished and South Africa re-entered the international market; all encouraged the exploration of new and better areas for quality wine, not only deeper into the Hemel-en-Aarde valley, but also in Elgin, Doring Bay, Franschhoek as well as Stellenbosch. Jan ‘Boland’ Coetzee has been making pinots at Vriesenhof, his farm on the Helderberg, for over 20 years. At a recent tasting we jumped from 1994 to 2013 with a few other vintages interspersed, some from single clones. The older ones reflect his renown as a maker of great cabernets, the younger wines are more supple, textured, less oaky and more true to the variety.

Today’s young stars, such as the Newton Johnsons, Peter-Allan Finlayson with his Crystallum wines and Gottfried Mocke of Chamonix, to name but three, travel and taste widely, experience which helps them push the pinot boundaries. For them and the other fanatics, the search for great pinot is a constant journey.

That journey lies in seeking out new and even more extreme sites as well as refining work in the cellar. If Tim Hamilton Russell wished South Africa stretched a further 200 kms south, today altitude is the – more achievable – goal.

David Finlayson (yes, another member of that pinot mad family!), whose Edgebaston winery is based in Stellenbosch, draws his pinot from various sites, all in the name of experiment: from a sandstone ridge high on the sometimes winter snow-capped mountains above Tulbagh valley; here clones 777 and 115 ripen early February. Closer to home, a Stellenbosch mountain site provides fruit from clone 667; and in 2015, Finlayson will be taking fruit from high on the Bottelary Hills, well-chilled by exposure to breezes off distant False Bay.

But even in Stellenbosch, pinot is making a mark at less elevated sites. Within a gust of sea-spray from False Bay, Mick and Jeanine Craven find energising coolness in her parents’ farm in Faure; their characterful pinot is beautifully pure and fresh. At nearby Meerlust, Chris Williams’s pinot is fuller but captures similar fruit charm.

One of the most remarkable new sites is on Appelsdrift, the Jack family’s 200 ha farm on the northern face of the Akkedisberg (Lizard Mountain), roughly halfway between Bredasdorp and Caledon. Pinot, planted in 2002, grows on: ‘A wind-torn, uncomfortably-steep slope, 440 metres above sea level; the vines gaze out to the south-west, where the sun sets into the sea,’ as Bruce Jack describes it. Three clones, 115, 777 and 665, grow in ancient, decomposed Table Mountain sandstone, mixed with weathered shale and clay, interspersed with metamorphosed limestone; each, says Jack, produces extremely different wines. As a blend of the three, The Drift Pinot Noir 2012 is initially demure but gradually the savoury, crunchy berry flavours, with their fynbos complement (from their wilderness reserve neighbour?) emerge accompanied by invigorating freshness. It is a most particular wine, distinct from any other South African pinot, yet unmistakeable in its varietal heritage.

‘There are Still Mysteries.’ The Drift Pinot’s name echoes what all pinot producers believe; that the best sites have yet to be found, the best wines yet to be made.

INNOVATION BRINGS POSITIVE RESULTS

Innovation among South Africa’s young winemakers is taking the country’s wines on an exciting journey; but innovation, through its very nature has a sense of the unknown. In some cases this carries an element of danger, as it can in a style as tricky as Méthode Ancestrale.

Méthode Ancestrale is the original bottle-fermented sparkling wine which undergoes one, as opposed to Champagne’s two, fermentations. Therein lies the danger: exploding bottles. But there was no danger of that when winemaker, Matthew Copeland and the Vondeling team organised a well-attended launch of their maiden 2013 Méthode Ancestrale, called Rurale (another name for this style of sparkling wine). The wine shows a degree of expertise and deliciousness which defies this first-time effort. In keeping with the rural theme, guests were treated to their first taste on top of the Paardeberg (Horse Mountain) which rises some 800 metres behind the farm.

Copeland explained just how potentially tricky the process can be. His wine is made from a single block of chardonnay, harvested with a potential alcohol of 12%, riper and later than it would be for Méthode Cap Classique, in order to capture greater fruit in the wine without loss of vibrancy or freshness.

A natural fermentation commences in tank before the really difficult stage: bottling, a procedure that happens when there’s sufficient sugar left to create a vibrant bubble but not so much that the build up of pressure causes the bottles to explode (Copeland admits that some did). As is the way with wine, this crucial stage could happen in the middle of the night.

Post-bottling, the wine spends 16 months on the lees to increase richness and a creamy texture, but these are well-balanced by the high natural acid and that vibrant bubble. Degorging is followed by topping up, a procedure carried out with other bottles of the same wine – another reason for the limited number of bottles available – 1200 this first vintage, all allocated to the local market.

Other producers around and on the Paardeberg are also honing their skills with Méthode Ancestrale. Vondeling’s neighbour, Willie and Tanya de Waal of Scali make Scali Ancestor from chenin blanc; their approach is to keep the whole process as natural as possible, from gravity settling and racking, fermentation and bottling under crown cap with no riddling agents. The biggest challenge, say the de Waals, is to have as small amount of lees as possible left in the bottle after degorging but, at the same time, with as little loss as possible of the wine itself (sounds a bit of a Catch 22 situation!); all this and still use the natural approach (they hand degorge every bottle) because that’s what defines the style. Scali Ancestor has 8.3 grams of residual sugar, slightly drier than the Vondeling’s 10.2 g/l, and a total sulphur of 26 mg/l. Their second vintage totals only 600 bottles, most of which are destined for export.

In the heart of the Paardeberg, Lammershoek’s Craig Hawkins’ 1000 bottles of Ancestrale, named ‘Petty Cash’, was made from harslevelu and chenin blanc. Hawkins says his challenge is to get the wine as clean as possible before bottling, otherwise at degorging there’ll be too much sediment which can result in losing around 33% of the wine. Racking twice during fermentation in tank does the necessary to lower the amount of lees. Bottling follows once the sugar level is around 35-40 g/l, a level which results in Hawkins’ desired residual sugar – around 11 g/l in this wine - once the C02 naturally halts fermentation.

Where ‘Petty Cash’ also differs from Rurale and Ancestor is that no S02 was added; neither was it fined or filtered. Hand degorged after a year, the wine was topped with chenin from 2012.

In both years Chris and Andrea Mullineux have made their Ancestrale, clairette blanche has been the variety of choice and in both, the wine has been offered to their Wine Club members. To control the amount of lees at the end of fermentation, the Mullineux’s first protein and cold stabilise the juice. Harvesting at 19° Balling allows the wine to ferment right out, ending with an alcohol around 9.5%-10%. One lesson the pair learnt from their first vintage was, leave more head space to avoid exploding bottles; an approach that happily worked well.

If producing a Méthode Ancestrale sounds difficult and stressful, drinking it is far less so. ‘It’s a really fun wine to drink,’ say the Mullineux’s, who also admit it’s fun to make. While Hawkins says what he likes about the style is that, ‘It makes people smile, the bubbles are softer and less aggressive and one needs to drink the bottle quicker because the bubbles disappear more quickly.’

Judging by the number of bottles opened at the Vondeling launch, it would seem we, the media enjoy it as much as the wine producers. Méthode Ancestrale might only ever be made in limited quanities but it looks set to become a permanent part of the South African wine scene.

SIJNN – THE OPENING OF A NEW CELLAR IN A NEW AREA

In today’s crowded wine world, being a winemaker is challenging enough but there are creative people out there for whom the real challenge lies in the unknown. For David and Rita Trafford the unknown lay in 125 hectares of stony soil close to the mouth of the Breede River at a place called Malgas. It was an area devoid of vines until they purchased the farm they named Sijnn (pronounced ‘sane’, and the original Khoisan name for the Breede River), and started planting the current 16 hectares of vines in 2003.

It was a chance find; back in 2000, the Traffords were spending ‘a weekend away from the kids’ at a B&B near Malgas. The weather being poor, they took the opportunity to drive around; during their drive, David Trafford noticed a ploughed field with pudding stones, a feature which reminded him of Chateauneuf-du-Pape, but of nothing he’d ever seen in South Africa. Their interest sparked, the Traffords contacted an estate agent for prices of plots, only to discover this particular one was for sale as the owners were divorcing.

The river at Malgas is still tidal, so salty water could have proved a problem, but Trafford’s concerns were put to rest when he realised gardens belonging to the holiday houses along the banks were growing well. Irrigation of the vineyards is anyway minimal.

Once two partners were brought on board - Simon Farr, from the UK and founder of Bibendum Wines and South African businessman, Quentin Hurt - the backbreaking task of breaking up the soil, a mix of those pudding stones and fractured bokkeveld shale, and making holes for the vines began.

Vine selection is of eclectic Mediterranean varieties, associated with several areas and countries: chenin blanc, viognier and roussanne for whites; syrah, mourvèdre, touriga nacional, trincadeira and cabernet for reds. Beyond the current 16 hectares of vineyard, a further 44 ha is suitable for vines; future plans include planting tempranillo, nebbiolo and grenache. The rest of the farm is left to indigenous fynbos and renosterveld vegetation. Aesethically, the all-bush vine vineyards look in pleasing harmony with the indigenous vegetation; the canes appear to fall in happy abandon, in line with other growth. But Trafford explains this method was deliberate, ‘As the way they grow makes a perfect canopy, creating natural balance to allow enough light into the vine.’ He adds that trained on a trellis, with the required tipping of the shoots, side shoots would grow and provide too dense a canopy.

Irrigation required is minimal – those seemingly dense pudding stones actually retain 10% on which the roots feed – but also Sijnn lies on the border of the winter and summer rainfall regions, so although the annual average is a meagre 350mm, it’s fairly evenly distributed throughout the year. Harvest starts later than in Stellenbosch, around mid-March, but the two still coincide.

At the recent opening of Sijnn’s new cellar, David Trafford often had to answer the question ‘why here’? ‘It offered the challenge to do something new; something similar in quality and price to our Stellenbosch winery.’ If it was a challenge they were after, the Traffords certainly found the right place. Since the first vintage in 2007 until this year, the wines have been made at their Stellenbosch winery. This involved not only a five hour drive to deliver the grapes, but noteworthy dirt roads at both departure and destination points. Yes, even the Stellenbosch property, the last port of call at the top of the pass between the Helderberg and Stellenboschberg, is approached by a single lane, dirt track.

As we arrived at the cellar, a rental truck was delivering barrels, full ones from the Trafford’s Stellenbosch property. It wasn’t quite the last of the several journeys to bring everything – previously bottled vintages, as well as those still in barrel – back to home base. From now on, Sijnn wines will be grown, made and bottled on the farm. The cellar opening also marked the opportunity for members of the public to visit and buy every Saturday between 10am and 3pm.

The whole project has been designed along eco-friendly lines, with Hurt driving the initiatives. If the vines blend harmoniously with their surroundings, so does the low tech cellar thanks to architect, David Trafford’s sympathetic design and materials – the shale for the mainly dry stone walls formed part of the flood plain that now bears the vines. Since the opening, solar panels have been installed across the cellar roof. ‘On an average sunny day, these will be able to provide all our power needs for the farm and the winery,’ Trafford advises.

How harmoniously the signed tiles, decorated by guests attending the three launch evenings, will blend in with their surroundings in the cellar, remains to be seen. But it’s just the sort of interesting, creative touch the Traffords would introduce.

The range itself has yet to settle into a firm line up. There are varietal wines, as well as the white and red blends; the Traffords believe winelovers will find varietal wines an easier introduction to Sijnn – a difficult name in itself - as well as the unorthodox blends.

A Platter five star rating for the Syrah 2011 has projected these elegant wines into the public eye. As they become better known, it’s certain they’ll add to the palette of styles and quality for which South Africa is gaining increasingly positive press.

ORANGE WINES

Every wine lover is familiar with white, rosé and red table wine; but orange wine? The style is nothing new; orange wines were first made thousands of years ago in countries such as Georgia and Armenia.

More recently, it has been re-discovered by winemakers with enquiring minds and ever ready to push boundaries. Best described as white wines made in the same way as reds, with skin contact, the colour and tannins in orange wines derive from contact with the skins, as it does in reds.

The Italian region of Friuli has its own devotees (and opponents); there are also a growing group of enthusiasts in California. With South African winemakers travelling and working worldwide, it’s hardly surprising some enterprising youngsters have been inspired to experiment with their own orange wines.

Craig Hawkins, who produces them under his Testalonga El Bandito label, was first inspired by an Italian producer, which led him to explore further similar wines from Slovenia, Italy and Georgia. His first try, some five or six years’ ago, was made from old vine chenin blanc, fermented for five weeks on the skins. Length of skin contact is a major element of Hawkins’ learning curve; five weeks is the shortest – an extraordinary two years, the longest. Today, it’s more likely to be two or three weeks.

Elaborating on the winemaking process, Hawkins explains: ‘I ferment whole bunches in open top wooden containers with very little punching down of the cap to extract only what the grapes give themselves.’ After replacing the heads of the wooden containers they are laid flat and fermentation proceeds slowly, with topping up, until Hawkins feels the wine is ready for pressing, after which the wine is aged on its gross lees. Sulphur is kept to a minimum, due both to the tannin and other antioxidant properties, ‘but is ultimately determined by having healthy vineyards, farmed organically and biodynamically,’ Hawkins explains.

Is it more difficult than making a standard white wine? Hawkins admits ‘the first time it may be more challenging, but if you know what you are trying to capture, I’d say it poses equal challenges to the standard approach.’ For him, the biggest difficulty, ‘is to overcome is the preconceived idea that people have of what that wine should taste like. We are taught to dislike phenolics/tannin in white wine. As soon as we pull a finger to that idea and realise that all these flavours are part of orange wines as colour is to a red wine, that is a step forward. The goal is to harness these flavours into something enjoyable.’

Chenin blanc isn’t the only variety Hawkins has used for orange wine; his favourite so far is sauvignon blanc; ‘probably one of the most beautiful wines I’ve made,’ reckons this winemaker who otherwise eschews sauvignon. Some orange wines can be rustic, not necessarily a negative, but this 2013 sauvignon, with two weeks’ skin contact, is uncommonly refined, even with its attractively exotic flavours. It is different, but not frighteningly so; I can imagine it would be a good introduction for anyone interested but nervous about trying something so different.

Other varieties have been employed by first-timers, Mick Craven and his partner, Janine Faure, of Antipodean Wines (though that name will change), who were inspired by orange wines made in California. They chose pinot gris and clairette blanche, in part due to their high acid, a component that tends to drop out with skin contact. The former, on skins for two weeks, enjoys a dusty pink hue and has what Craven describes as a flavour of watermelon with a firmness of build and driness of finish that’s miles away from either Italian pinot grigio or Alsace pinot gris. But the real eye-opener is their clairette blanche, made in two ways, one standard vinification via whole bunch pressing with fermentation in an old 500 litre barrel, which has produced an aromatic wine with good body (at just under 11% alc!). The other portion was left on the skins two and a half weeks in tank, the wine being more neutral in tone but with a solid structure: blend the pair and you have flesh, flavour and structure with low acid and low alcohol.

One of the major issues of dispute is whether these wines display any sense of place. Some argue that the winemaking process dominates any more individual expression. Craven ripostes; ‘Adding yeast also changes terroir.’ Hawkins also has a firm opinion on the matter. ‘The moment you decide to farm properly and cut the first grapes and make wine naturally is the moment you take the first step in conveying terroir.’ British wine journalist, Jamie Goode is less certain, saying; ‘The big question is whether winemaking or terroir is to the fore.’

South African orange wines are so niche I suspect even many of the media haven’t tasted them, so what sort of future could they have here? Both Hawkins and Craven agree it’ll take a great deal of communication to get them off the ground. As Hawkins says; ‘In Europe people are more accepting of these wines purely because they are exposed to more things than we are stuck at the bottom of Africa. We, as a country, are still coming to grips with cloudy beers and quality coffee, but at the end of the day, orange wines could become popular as long as they provide pleasure.’

For Goode, ‘Orange wines are wonderfully different.’ The best are distinguished by their wonderful spectrum of aromatics and freshness. Even made oxidatively, they retain amazing freshness and purity with an intriguing mouthfeel. ‘The tannins are unusual and quite grippy, but there are no anthocyanins, so the pigmented polymer formation occurring in red wines don’t feature in whites.’ Encouragingly, Goode admits, ‘I’ve had many more good orange wines than bad ones, though the latter surely exist.’

With others slowly joining the small band of South African orange winemakers, winelovers with inquisitive taste buds should have plenty of new experiences in store.

EMPTY MEMORIES

It’s not something I’ve ever thought to write about, imagining few others would find keeping empty wine bottles as compulsive a habit as I do. Then I read PR and fellow wine lover, Nicolette Waterford’s tweet: ‘Trying to declutter. Why oh why can I not throw away certain empty wine bottles. Is there a term for this type of insanity?’ ‘Don’t worry – you’re not alone in this. #memories.’ I responded. And memories is what we both decided inspires such insanity; our reasoning was shortly given credibility by none other than a Master of Wine, John Downes, who joined our tweetersation, insisting ‘you HAVE to keep the memories ..’ So I no longer need hide my shady habit. In fact, here’s a photo to illustrate just how compulsive it is – it spreads further around the cellar too. And it’s about to be joined by another bottle with happy and sad memories.

It was around 1997, when I was writing for the excellent Sunday Life magazine, that the editor passed on an email from a gentleman in Australia, who had several queries about South African wine after his recent visit, including why did South Africa have so much chenin. Little did I know that my response would lead to an active and robust ongoing correspondence. It turned out Patrick was South African but had emigrated to Australia in 1961. His interests were far and wide, including sport – we had much friendly banter about our respective cricket teams - but wine was one very close to his heart. Our correspondence grew both in length and regularity; I learned a lot about Australian wine from him and I think he did likewise about South African wine from me.

The opportunity to meet in person rather than over the ether arrived in 1999, when Mark and I visited and travelled through Australia; Patrick and his wife, Elizabeth invited us to stay with them during our stay in Melbourne. They treated us royally with visits to wineries as far afield as Heathcote and Mornington Peninsula, wines as varied as Grange (from the 1970s) to Chambers fabulous Rutherglen Muscats. We met twice more, once in Melbourne again, another when they stayed with us in Cape Town.

That was to be the last time we met, though our interest and enjoyment in each other’s wines continued; with little possibility of buying them, we started the slow but thankfully successful system of posting a selection to each other via seamail. Whilst I sent Patrick wines which I hoped would convince him of our progress with the classic varieties ( lots of chenin!) and innovative wines such as white blends, he educated me with some of the many ‘alternative varieties’ which have become such a success in Australia. As a resident of Victoria state, he did favour local producers (although in one notable package, Margaret River, Barossa, Adelaide Hills and Langhorne Creek were represented), but there’s such a wealth of talent and wide range of interesting varieties and wines in that state, that opening the latest parcel was always filled with anticipation.

The eight wines making up that multi-regional parcel included a lagrein, a variety from the north-eastern Italian region of the Alto Adige, but this was from the more temperate Murray Darling area in Victoria’s north west. It disappointed Patrick and he determined to send me one he’d tasted and enjoyed from the cooler Macedon Ranges. His February 2013 letter informed me he’d eventually found a bottle of Cobaw Ridge Lagrein 2008, which he was posting together with a Chateau Tahbilk Marsanne 2003 from 1927 vines. Sadly, it was the last letter he managed to write; cancer and other painful complications led to his death that October.

I wanted to share those last two wines with friends; two opportunities, a year apart, presented themselves. Once a year in January, our monthly tasting group holds a bring your own international wine and a plate of food event. The tasting’s blind, as always.

The Tahbilk went down very well last year; yesterday evening it was the turn of Cobaw Ridge Lagrein. Without exception, including Aussie and ex-Melbourne sommelier, David Clarke, all were somewhere in a cool climate region of the northern hemisphere. All were fooled too by the still vivid youthful purple hue, three years the average guess at age.

Though none of us are that familiar with lagrein, the wine grabbed everyone’s interest in its freshness, clarity and texture, certainly individual.

I’ve drunk the last drop – shared with Mark – this evening; it lingers, as will the empty bottle in our cellar.

DEAR SEMILLON

Dear semillon, you have struggled for well over one hundred years in the Cape’s vineyards to receive the acknowledgement due to you as a classic variety capable of producing wines that blossom with age. Your abundance in 19th century Cape vineyards led to your proper name being disregarded and replaced with ‘wine grape’. By the 20th century, your popularity was on the decline, until you featured among the ‘also rans’ in the varietal status. There were a few enthusiasts, who preserved your old vines, but the wine was generally overlooked in the consumer rush for the new, fashionable other French classics, chardonnay and sauvignon blanc. Even when you were planted in areas such as Breedekloof, your juice was destined to be blended in generic brands, wines that in no way reflect your true quality capabilities. In the early years of the new century, there was a glimpse of positive change in your fortunes, thanks to a few dedicated winemakers, who understand your symbiosis with sauvignon blanc and who began to craft partnerships that have achieved acclaim locally and today, are receiving similar approval internationally. But, dear semillon, my heart is gladdened that there are also moves in one of your old strongholds to ensure your worth as a varietal wine will, in future, receive proper acknowledgement. Dear semillon, I think after all these years, your eureka moment has arrived.

One of the blessings for both semillon and winelovers, is that the new clones, especially in cooler climates, has a taste profile very similar to sauvignon blanc, still the consumer darling. So, with a wine like Nitida Coronata Integration 2013, there is the familiarity of cool grassy, citrus flavours but with sauvignon’s usual aggressive edges ameliorated by semillon’s silkily-weighted texture, not forgetting its own lemon grass, honey and tangerine flavours.

The Veller’s Durbanville wine was one of the three winners on this year’s RisCura Hot White Awards, which focuses on Bordeaux-style white blends, a partnership of sauvignon and semillon in any proportion. The young man from RisCura sitting next to me enjoyed it particularly for the above reason. In fact, all three winners – Morgenster 2013 (Stellenbosch) and Highlands Road Sine Cera 2012 (Elgin) were the other two – already provide much drinking pleasure.

One of the other joys – there are many, price included! – of these wines, is their ying/yang of freshness and texture make them so versatile with food. Who better to show off such benefits than Foodbarn’s Franck Dangereux, who obviously had such fun (and success) in creating a variety of dishes to accompany them.

If the above names aren’t those that would come to mind automatically when nominating the big guns in this style, I mentioned to panel chair, Christian Eedes that the result illustrates the strength of the category, for those big guns were in the line up. (Eedes’ tasting report with full results may be found here).

The style has a big and glorious future and should be the way the majority of winelovers get to know and enjoy semillon; with that I have no problem.

As a varietal wine, semillon’s future lies in Franschhoek, home to probably the greatest number of old semillon vines of any area in the Cape winelands. Basil and Jane Landau’s vineyard (pictured here) is now 108 years old. A group of the younger winemakers – Craig McNaught of Stonybrook, Clayton Reabow of Moreson, Wynand Grobler of Rickety Bridge and Rob Armstrong of Haut Espoir – have started a movement to reward typicity and quality in three of Franschhoek’s major varieties, semillon being one; chardonnay and cabernet, the other two. Semillon’s major features, as identified at an initial tasting of a wide range of the area’s wines, is beeswax, lanolin and lemon, with honeyed notes developing with age.

The first Appellation Grand Prestige awards (yes, that title is far too pretentious for such a down-to-earth, worthy initiative) will be made in October to any of this varietal trio which have passed the typicity/quality test by 17 judges under blind tasting conditions; a minimum 80% ‘yes’ vote is required for an award.

What this exercise should do is not only raise the profile of semillon, but hopeful increase prices for the wine, which, in turn should encourage producers to pay the farmers more for their grapes, in turn again encouraging them to retain these old, low-yielding vines. Surely the wine community has learnt by now the value of these old vines and that everything should be done to conserve them?

The rigour of the AGP rules extends to admiting entries from only those wines carrying Wine of Origin Franschhoek; none of the parasite members of the Franschhoek Vignerons from outside the area, whose wines bear another WO, may participate. This lends the initiative a great deal more credibility and purpose.

The good folk of Paarl would do well to take note of this. Their so-called Paarl Wine Challenge is, I’ve learned, open to wines from any origin, provided they’re vinified in Paarl (what has vinification to do with terroir, as ‘Paarl’ would suggest?). Apparently this has always been the rule since their first Challenge. Their marketing being so poor, if it exists at all, this was revealed only after I’d queried whether KWV winning with their Elgin-sourced The Mentors Chardonnay wasn’t a bit of a swindle. No, that’s allowed and KWV wasn’t the only producer to win with outsourced fruit. But for so important and vastly improved big company, I believe they were irresponsible and disingenuous to enter non-Paarl WO wines. It’s an ill-conceived competition based on origin that allows and awards wines from outside the region. Time to re-think, Paarl.

CABERNET RE-VISITED

Remember those school reports where the principal noted ‘tries hard’? Your initial enthusiasm is quickly dampened with the realisation that it’s actually a euphemism for ‘despite trying, the results are less than stellar’.

The principal in me often emerges with cabernet, though in this case, a further qualifier seems necessary: ‘tries too hard’. The effort is, of course, by the winemaker rather than the grape. Cabernet sauvignon has the reputation of being a sternly built variety, one requiring years to make agreeable drinking. It is also considered an excellent candidate for new oak to help the wine and its fearsome tannins evolve. In theory this makes sense, in practice it doesn’t always produce the desired result.

In South Africa cabernet has been particularly troublesome for two main reasons: one, it’s late ripening and even with a tough skin, early winter rains may leave it less than desirably ripe. Leafroll virus too has been a primary cause; despite the introduction of virus-free vines, there’s still old infected material in vineyards and the virus-free (NB not resistant) have in some cases reverted to virus. The clean vines present their own problem with sugar levels escalating to levels where the potential alcohol is 15% plus, but leaving ripeness of skins and pips lagging behind. Some residual sugar may be left for balance but makes for heavy weather of drinking the wine.

Despite these apparent hurdles, there are many great cabernets. Careful site selection, meticulous viticultural attention and a gentle hand in the cellar, blending in other varieties, all contribute to cabernets that may be enjoyed young as well as with a good many years under their belts – or should that be ‘bottles’.

Last week, the third Christian Eedes Cabernet Report, sponsored by Sanlam Private Investments, offered the opportunity to taste the ten best examples as selected by him, together with his colleagues Roland Peens of Wine Cellar and James Pietersen, now also of Wine Cellar. The trio had blind-tasted a hand-picked line up of 60 cabernets (seeded players, local and international award winners and what Eedes calls ‘best in their field if low profile’.)

In his report, which includes a summary and tasting notes on all 60 wines, Eedes says of the trio’s findings that ‘winemakers are going in pursuit of fruit and less aggressive tannins ..’ achieving this via opening up the vine canopy, harvesting riper grapes and adjusting acid and pH levels in the cellar.

Pointing out areas that remain problematic, Eedes mentions tannin management; over-extraction of grape tannin and over-oaking, which results in dry oak tannins. I’m 100% behind his cry for ‘More gentleness of touch’.

It was no surprise that eight of the ten cabernets singled out for praise, came from Stellenbosch (Franschhoek and Darling filled the other two spots), which boasts the largest area under cabernet, just on 2809 ha, so good stuff should be coming out of there.

One aspect Eedes didn’t mention is how well winemakers are interpreting very different vintages; among the top ten, 2012, 11, 10 and 09 were represented. No 09 has no business to be anything other than excellent, but 2010 was much more difficult. I’ve yet to get my head around 2011, but 2012 is promising.

I’d agree there’s generally more fruit but some enthusiastic oaking did suggest a sense of ambition that the fruit wasn’t always up to. More disturbing for me was clumsy acidification. There is a world of difference between freshness and the gravelly woooosh of acid, either too much or added at the wrong time. I’m afraid that wooosh was evident in at least four of those ten.

Genuine freshness may also derive from fine, ripe tannins, a positive I discerned in my two favourite wines. Waterford’s aesthetic is one of elegance and restraint both of which are evident in the 2011 (R175); its freshness and dry finish provide digestibility. Despite the sleek lines, there’s no shortage of flavour with more to develop, I’d guess beyond the judges’ suggested 2018. Thelema 2010 (R185) is more muscular but beautifully proportioned, a fine example of contained power. Fruit seems to be more of the dark berry type with far less of the characteristic mint (this is the standard bottling). Thelema’s track record ensures a long future. These are two really great wines, the producers deserving of their second consecutive appearance in the top ten.

Both Rickety Bridge Paulina’s Reserve 2011 (R195) and Knorhoek Pantère 2011 (R130) offer satisfaction in their honesty and character; their price tags too are not unwarrantedly high, a claim that may also be made for Waterford and Thelema. Rickety Bridge and Knorhoek, crafted with that ‘gentle touch’, has brought out the best in them and which over-ambition would have destroyed, The former, flying the Franschhoek flag, has the distinction of being in the top ten for all three years since the event began, so Stellenbosch doesn’t completely rule the cabernet roost.

My own report for these four at least, reads ‘tries hard with admirable success’.

FRENCH LESSONS

I’ve already written about the well-known Loire winery, Domaine Huet, barring two English journalists from tasting its wines at a public event; now my attention has been turned to two producers who have fallen foul of the French authorities.

M. Emmanuel Giboulot of the eponymous Domaine in Burgundy, is facing a fine of up to €30 000 and a possible spell in prison, for failing to spray his vines! He was ordered by a local authority to use insecticide to protect against flavescence doree, one of a group of diseases in which tiny organisms kill young vines and render older ones uneconomical. According to the Oxford Companion to Wine, there’s no known control for it, although leafhoppers, a vector, are presumably what the local authority wanted farmers to spray against.

But M. Giboulot farms biodynamically, as has his family for the past 40 years; not only would spraying be counteractive to that practice, but kill bees and other insects that are crucial to the diversity of the eco-system.

A verdict is due 7th April.

Given the particular ownership set up of Burgundy, where a single vineyard may have several producers owning a couple of rows, I’ve always wondered how credible organic or biodynamic farming is, when your neighbour a metre away chooses to use pesticides. But that’s another matter.

I seem to remember reading one comment M Giboulot made in his defence at the hearing which alluded to vines farmed biodynamically being stronger and more naturally resistant to disease than those grown conventionally. An interesting point that I checked with Johan Reyneke.

Reyneke referred to information given to him by Dr Uwe Hoffman from Geisenheim University. Apparently by building humus levels in the soil to 5%, vines’ natural resistance against disease increases three fold. Because organic and biodynamic practices encourage microbial activity with plenty of organic matter for the microbes to convert to humus, such humus build up is more likely than on land farmed conventionally. Greater diversity in the eco-system is also a stabiliser. There are other pointers which Reyneke doesn’t mention but he concludes ‘I think one could deduce that vineyards farmed organically and/or biodynamically are indeed more stable and resistant to disease than those farmed conventionally.’

From this end of Africa, I find it very odd that a wine farmer is prosecuted for refusing to spray his vines. A few years ago a farmer, somewhere in the Swartland, was, if not prosecuted, severely criticised for spraying too enthusiastically.

But the main point for me here is that the French have an authority which can order how a farmer should treat his vines, at least in regard to preventative sprays.

What we know very much better is that the French AOC system has strict rules about which vines can be planted where, pruning, yield and even start of harvest.

So it’s less surprising that M Olivier Cousin (both bearded and biodynamic) is feeling the might of the INAO (Institut National des Appellations d’Origine) for using the Loire AOC term ‘Anjou’ on his labels, even though he quit the appellation, believing it no longer reflected a guarantee of quality; M Cousin also claims it contributes to polluting the environment through, according to a local newspaper, giving permission for the use of around 134 chemicals.

Not only has he illegally used the Anjou name on his cabernet franc, labelling it Anjou Pur Breton (Breton is a synonym for cab franc in his part of the Loire), but he has poked fun at the appellation system by putting ‘Appellation Olivier Cousin’ on his cases.

M Cousin appears on the label in all his hirsute glory, sitting astride an anchor, bunches of grapes strategically placed and a raised goblet of wine that could be interpreted as ‘santé’ or something a little less polite to the INAO!

In this case, according to Decanter’s website, M Cousin is facing a potential fine of €5000, somewhat less than M Giboulot, which tells you something about the different levels of misdemeanour in the INAO’s eyes.

I should point out both gentlemen have enthusiastic bands of supporters.

My feelings, not on just these cases but more generally, are as follows: since the first appellation rules were introduced in Chateauneuf-du-Pape in 1936, much has changed, including today’s younger generation that is much less parochial than their grandparents or parents; they travel and work in other parts of the wine world, where they experience far fewer restrictions. One can understand rising tensions between them and an inflexible INAO. Inflexibility and apparently not listening to those with whom they should enjoy a symbiotic relationship to promote quality from their region would seem ill-advised given a changing and falling customer base and climate. Adapt or die and survival of the fittest are appropriate phrases for the authorities to consider.

That sentiment doesn’t apply only to traditional wine-producing countries. Even with our less restrictive regulations here, we also need to be aware of changes that will help drive our wines forward in quality and customer appreciation.

The Wine and Spirit Board did succumb to pressure from Riesling producers, via their Just Riesling group, and others, including journalists, to allow that name on labels without the qualifiers Rhine or Weisser, but we’re still stuck with Cape Riesling – no doubt due to Distell’s own vested interests.

The various producer interest groups, such as Just Riesling, offer a good, influential body when lobbying is necessary, but it’s really up to all of us who love wine and have a stake in South Africa’s ongoing success that occurrences such as have happened in France do not take place here.