The white wines of South Africa
Those of us left in idleness and isolation as a result of the Covid virus might have found wine one of the few friends who still comes to call. But in the end, the pandemic has proved as much a blight to wine as it has been to virtually everything else.
Wine has long ceased to be a beverage consumed by thirsty rustics labouring in fields or swilled by proletarians sweating in their factories. It has transformed itself into an essentially aspirational, middle-class drink. Even in lands where wine is an essential part of culture, few people drink it with every meal. They restrict its use to evenings or weekends. Up here in the largely vine-free north, wine is the thing you order when you go to a restaurant, or drink in preference to beer in the pub.
Sales of wine for home consumption must have increased these last six months, but sales in bars and restaurants have slumped. The latest measures here in Britain will have crushed the optimism that came with the reopening of pubs and restaurants after the misery of Lockdown.
But we can still drink at home. Imagine then what it was like in South Africa, where the government’s response to Covid was to ban alcohol altogether? The ban was lifted for the second time on 18 August, but the damage done to the country’s wine estates was huge, particularly those with no presence on the export market. There is a real fear that many South African estates will cease production.
I am rusty on South Africa. A lot has happened in the quarter of a century since my last visit. The only proper visit I made to the Cape was in 1991, when I was preparing a book on Mediterranean wine grapes. These were certainly a minority interest at a time when the “Mac” varieties — Cabernet and Chardonnay — ruled the roost. South Africa had its work horses too, like the ubiquitous Chenin Blanc, which made white wine in every conceivable style; and Pinotage, a cross between Pinot Noir and Cinsault which made a rough and ready wine I rather liked. Like everybody else I came away struck by the beauty of the Cape, the mountains of Stellenbosch and the Peninsula, which reminded me of the cliffs around Amalfi and Ravello.
So for the love of wine and landscape, I have been tasting South African wines lately, and have been very impressed. This week I want to look at white wines.
First of all, Chenin has improved in leaps and bounds since I last visited. Chenin makes up a fifth of all South Africa’s grapes, and can be sweet, semi-sweet, semi-dry, dry or sparkling. Bad Chenin can be an unpleasant experience, particularly when it is half dry or sweet. It is the dry incarnations that impress me now, mostly because they expose that vital seam of acidity that gives them a structure and refreshes the palate.
The Mentors is an upmarket label from KWV, the big cooperative in Paarl that unites thousands of small growers and which I visited on my second trip to the Cape. The 2018 Chenin leads with a slightly raw, oaky nose, but the fruit is good and clean.
Doran Vineyards 2019 Chenin is a lovely little wine: aromatic with a redolence of mandarin peel, dry and sappy. Edwin Doran has an interesting business. In 1992, the Irish-born Briton met the renowned South African winemaker André Badenhorst and in 2010 he bought Far Horizons Farm. The first edition of Doran’s Badenhorst-made collection for Doran was released in 2012.
The 2018 Horse Mountain White Blend is largely Sauvignon Blanc and it tastes like it, with its distinctly catty style. There is a bit of CO2 in it, which adds to its refreshing quality. It left me thinking a bit of boiled sweets.
Although South Africa was only at the beginning of experimentation with Rhone Valley cultivars when I made my first visit to the Cape, they persisted, with stunning results. It is Grenache Blanc that carries most of the weight in Doran’s 2019 Arya blend, together with some Roussanne and Chenin. There is a big whiff of toast from the oak, and almonds from the Roussanne. It is a good wine, and makes a great aperitif.
The 2017 Doran Georgia Maeve is another blend that juggles some of similar ingredients: Chenin, Grenache Blanc and Roussanne. It is barrel-fermented, and has all the butteriness you’d expect. There is plenty of alcohol again, but it displays a lovely creamy, apples-and-peaches fruit.
One variety that has impressed me a lot is Roussanne. Doran’s 2018 has an attractive opulence about it that had me thinking of salted almonds. It is a wine for sipping gently mind you, as it boasts fully 15 per cent alcohol.
Finally there is the 2017 Pictus VI from Painted Wolf, a really lovely, complex wine made from Grenache Blanc, Chenin and that other Rhone variety Viognier. It has nuances of camomile and a rather brilliant structure which keeps teasing the palate. In the absence of friends this is a wine you can talk to.