I think we pay too little for our wine. But before I go on to explain myself I thought I would just mention the wobbly crutch upon which my argument supports itself. Interest. You know that I believe people should take more of an interest in wine and consume more of it. I am not going to go into detail about that here – I have touched on it elsewhere – suffice to say that by becoming a nation with a wine culture, our drinking would lean more toward moderation than the binging type we see nowadays. But the key here is interest. If you don’t give a single hoot about wine, you are not very likely to pay more for the stuff than you have to.
That being said, I still think we should be paying a bit more. These thoughts have clouded my brain like a Joburg smog – discussions about money always leave a dirty taste – since I heard a few different pronouncements about wine and money. The first was at the Swartland Revolution – the constitutionally testing wine event I attended this weekend, whose schedule ran daily from august conversations about fine wine to hangovers that would bring a tear to your eye and a lump to your throat. Jamie Goode, British wine writer, wine science boffin and all round decent chap, was commenting on a wine he was presenting during one of the seminars – Herve Souhaut’s Romaneaux-Destezet Syrah 2010 to be precise – and said it was very affordable at 10-12 quid. By jolly I thought, many South Africans I chat to would not call 130-155 bucks very affordable.
The second mention of wine prices happened on this website’s sister radio-station. The presenter at the time was searching for a wine’s name. He knew it was white, a blend, from De Grendel, and that he liked it very much. He’d meant The Winifred. I thought to myself that some of these presenters really do have good sense; that was until he said it wasn’t cheap at around R80. I gasped. This wine, offering complexity, balance and interest, and which this man proclaims to like very much is surely a bargain for R80; not an antique, sure, but still a bargain.
I also shot the breeze recently with a fellow who is not much of a wine drinker. We chatted idly about which wines he drank and how much he paid. I took him to be somewhat representative of those who enjoy having some wine, but generally don’t spend a whole lot. He mainly purchases wine in supermarkets, and the maximum he would pay when looking for something special was R150. All well and good. But it turns out that R150 was only for red wine and he’d never pay that for a white. I realized that this was really common thinking, and I used to think similarly.
The final comment that occurred to me in relation to price – I was beginning to tire of it all to be honest – was drink, and hell to the wallet. Although it is probably a good idea for me to take price into cognisance, as my bank account is still decidedly Grecian, and if I try to squeeze any more money out of Mr. Plastic my bank manager may stone me with olives. As I was saying, the final monetary comments occurred between myself, an editor of an online wine newsletter, and a sommelier friend of mine who has drank more fine wine than you’ve had cups of tea. Miss Magazine was describing some wines that she was not too fond of; I defended them in terms of price (a R30 Chenin, R40 Sauv Blanc, and a R50 Merlot), and asked what she excepted for such wines. She, it seemed, demanded quite a lot. I countered, saying that having tasted them, they were perfectly acceptable for such a rock-bottom price. I looked to Mr. Sommelier for support, and found it. His response was that when you buy a wine for under R50, all you can expect is for the wine to be clean, drinkable, and without any faults. Essentially, you don’t pay for a ham sandwich and get an eight course degustation menu.
So what do I take from these anecdotes? When the smog of thoughts cleared I was left with the distinct impression that we expect to pay very little in South Africa, for wines of high quality. The De Grendel Winifred is super, and for the price, a bargain. People, I think, generally taste wines within a rather narrow price band, say, R30 to R100 (and that’s generous, I suspect it is lower). Within this price range there are excellent wines, and wines that are better suited for antiseptic uses. I believe, however, that on the whole they are of an average, okay but not amazing, generally you won’t punch the air when you taste them, kind of wines. The narrower the band the more similar the quality.
Now, if people are content to remain within their little band of spending, they don’t get to experience wines outside these confines. White wine is a perfect example. People don’t believe (massive generalization, I know) they are getting value for money if they spend over R100 bucks on a white wine. White wine has the perception that it should remain far under the price of red wine of the same quality. How to counter this perception? Spend more money on white wine and find out for yourself.
I have no problem with the wines in the R50 and under category, they have their place and serve their purpose, but they will hardly ever be great wines – just clean, drinkable, and not faulty. When you start looking for really good wines you need to explore both type and in price. If you find a wine for R140, it’s still a good deal if the wine is excellent, like the Romaneaux-Destezet. We don’t shout “what a bargain!” when we see something like the Oak Valley OV (Sauvignon/Semillon) for R130. We think, “For realz? Over a hundred for a white? Jassis.” We need to start seeing the value in these sorts of wines. So when I say that we spend too little on wine, I don’t mean that the prices are too low, but that we are not spending enough.
In the end, as I said, it comes down to interest. Interest in wine. Interest in trying to expand your vinous world. I try to encourage people to drink more, different, and better wines as much as possible – I fear now I must also try and convince them that at R150 for a really fine-wine, it is actually quite a decent price. I think I might have to find some Chinese friends.
