I have done two of these posts in the past and I thought I would do another. I made this decision for two reasons. The first is because they are simply fun to write, and secondly because I enjoy poking fun at the hoighty-toighty world of wine, where food and wine pairings are touted as […]
It’s a big, rich wine and it’s a bargain. I prefer the latter to the former, but it’s such a deal I thought it worth writing about. Everybody loves a good bargain. That’s the appeal of flea-markets and second-hand shops. I recently found awesome steam-punk styled salt ‘n pepper grinders for R100. The joy of […]
It seems we are on to a good thing with these little wine trip columns. So here is another one. It’s in a similar area to the last one, but just a touch further down the road. This week I’ll be giving you a guide to the Hemel en Aarde Valley.
This August The Westcliff is celebrating the exceptional wines and winemakers of South Africa with a series of Evenings of Fine Wine. They will take place every Friday evening in La Belle restaurant at 18h30. The Westcliff has invited some very well-established estates, as well as some newer, more cutting-edge domains, to host their guests […]
Everything must go digital. That’s what it feels like anyway. I reckon if the Luddites were around today they’d probably have blogs. I have had two digital vinous experiences over the last week or so that I thought were pretty interesting. The ubiquitous “digital”. You want to go on a trip? Blog about it. Hey […]
I took a trip out to a vineyard that is being lovingly restored by a winemaker bent on making authentic, great South African wines. It lifted my spirits, it made wine worth writing about.
It’s time for another wine trip. This week I am taking you out on the N2 over Sir Lowry’s Pass and town into the lush, green, pastoral valley of Botrivier. This region usually gets bunched in with Walker Bay and Elgin. But, I believe, it deserves it’s own column and trip.
I am sure I have mentioned most of these tips in the past, but there is little harm in reminding you of some solid wine-truths. One thing I promise, if you follow any of these tips, your enjoyment of wine will increase. And, hell, isn’t that what life is all about, drinking wine?
We love to forget to learn from the past. Learning from history has never been a strength of human beings. Even though we are continually reminded of our historical forgetfulness, generation after generation thinks it knows better. We repeat ourselves over time, asking the same questions and making the same mistakes; ignoring our artists and poets who have been obsessing over this phenomenon since the first falcon lost its hearing, and the gyre started getting fat.
Instead of ripping into these competitions again, I thought I would try to find a few ways that they can be of use to you. Let’s see if I can find a couple of ways to make these seemingly silly, almost pointless competitions useful.
Lately I’ve been drifting toward the cheaper end of the wine spectrum as the belt has unwillingly been drawn in these tough economic times. So this column’s for stretched budgets, treats, great bottles, and benchmarks. International wines that I have tasted in the last year or so that stuck in my head, that I woke up the next morning still thinking about.
I recently attended a vertical tasting of Bouchard Finlayson Pinot Noirs, with a couple international examples thrown in. It got me thinking about Pinot Noir, and then about language, and then whether it is just better to get drunk. I decided it actually is better to think, so here are my thoughts.
Do you ever get frustrated tasting the same wines over and over again? Even if the labels are different, what’s inside never really changes all that much. I can understand this frustration, it happens to me every now and again. Wine is about difference, it’s about different areas, different varieties, different winemakers; at its core wine is about exploration. Wait, that’s not true, at its core wine is fermented grape juice, but you know what I mean. So to aid you in refreshing your palate, this will be the first of two posts listing young winemaker/winemaking teams making exciting personality filled wines from around the country.
Wine is drunk a lot. But what else can we do with the contents of Bachus’s juice bottle? Does wine have to be confined to the glass and stew? Does wine have a life outside sipping and slurping? Surely this most miraculous of beverages has other uses. It does friends, it does. And these uses have got me out of a few scrapes in my lifetime let me tell you about a few.
Wine tastings. To state the bleeding amputated and mangled obvious, wine tastings are generally the best places to learn about wine if you don’t have an overflowing bank account, or an incredibly well stocked cellar. I can’t recommend going to tastings strongly enough if you are keen to broaden your vinous horizons. That being said, I thought I would give you a little guide of what not to do when you are there. For the most part, the parameters extend to everyday life, and can be summed up neatly as “don’t be a douche”.
English heavy metal band Motörhead has launched a line of bottled alcoholic beverages, because that’s just what you do when you’re a band of a certain age. There’s Motörhead Vodka which, sure, heavy metal, makes sense, and they’ve also released Motörhead Shiraz. Because I guess that’s heavy metal too.
The next time you are sitting at your favourite after work spot – sipping on something as the day ends while stress and worry take a backseat for the evening – let your gaze wonder to the other customers and observe how they sip their wines. As I am a frequent visitor to a number of bars/restaurants/pubs/wine-bars/shebeens/picnics/holes-in-the-walls/sidewalks/gutters/parks/etc I have observed how people drink my favourite tipple. And when stress and worry get out from the backseat entirely, kicked out by the third bottle, I find myself thinking about stereotypical wine drinkers based on how the wine gets from glass to belly. I present you with a few of my favourites and most observed.
It is summer, and here in the Cape the long evenings nudge one in the direction of that most South African past time: the braai. Growing up, however, it was always beer around the braai and wine (white, nondescript, loaded with ice) in the kitchen. There was, of course, the exception in my French uncle for whom a glass of red wine is never far away. But beer was the norm. Beer dominates the braai. Is it some form of magnetic alliteration? Is beer that much better designed for smoke and charred meat? Do we still hold some outmoded idea that wine is for girls and beer is for boys? Or, possibly, is there some emasculation going on when a can is taken from the chief steak flipper and an elegant riedel glass subbed in?
Durban, the sweaty sticky place of my birth. Salty, thick air, slops, shorts, bananas and spice. If Capetonians are laid-back, it is because they’re stoned. In Durban people are simply mellow. It’s built in, climatic. It takes longer to walk through the weighty, humid air. As I was buffeted by this wall of jungle breath, and a filmy layer of sweat – that would remain with me for the next 10 days – formed, I wondered what wines would suit such a climate. And, more importantly, where could I get them?
Welcome to Avonmouth in Bristol, home to Europe’s largest alcohol warehouse. The warehouse stores 9,5 million gallons of wine. That’s enough to fill 15 Olympic-sized swimming pools. No spice.
Would you consider it a selling point for an alcoholic beverage to depict Adolf Hitler on its label? Didn’t think so. Which is why it’s so fascinating that a man, who goes by the name Rolande Marte, is attempting to sell bottles of wine and Schnapps with an image of the dictator gracing the bottle. Swastika, and so on.
Christmas: a time of drunkenness, praise, and popped shirt buttons. There’s revelry and excess, angels and shepherds, and of course, the fat man in the fur-trimmed getup with a hankering for cookies, milk, and having children on his lap. A weird and wonderful time it is. It is also the time of year that wine columnists all over the world trot out their terribly banal “Top 10 Wines for Christmas” piece. I hate those.
What is needed is for wine to start appearing in South African popular culture. (Do we have one of those?) Remember that rather kak film, Sideways? That changed how Merlot and Pinot Noir were sold in the States. Just because that snivelly little prick Miles told everyone to “Fuck Merlot”, they did, running to quaff cheap Californian Pinot Noir by the bucket load.
I think we pay too little for our wine. 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.
Yesterday the wines that scored 5 stars in Platter – South Africa’s foremost wine reference guide – were released. At this year’s launch, 18 tasters worked their way through the 7 000 submitted wines. Every now and then they came across one that astounded and delighted, a wine that made them smile and smirk, and hopefully, finish the bottle. Here’s my take on the affair.
“The wines of Constantia became famous in Europe at the same time (mid 1700 s) as the red wines of Chateau Lafite. Makes you think.” Su Birch, the head of Wines of South Africa, tweeted this week. Lafite is a famous French first growth – the 2009’s are selling for around 14 000 bucks a bottle. Yes Su, it does make me think. It makes me think, “Where the fuck did we go wrong?”
Recently I was knocking back Meerlust’s new releases at a lunch. Drinking these rather scrumptious wines, we began to discuss some incredibly important issues. The things one discusses at a wine lunch – among other winos – are, of course of world importance. They solve world hunger, the middle-east issues, America’s debt, Malema, Greece, and hint toward what 42 actually means. To be honest, if it wasn’t for conversations such as these, the world would be in a worse place than it is. So on this blustery day in Stellenbosch, the question that arose was, “Can wine be art?” As I said, vital stuff.
Drugs are great. Don’t listen to those naysayers who offer hugs instead. Silly. Whoever heard of a hug that produced art, ideas, conversation and discovery? Some may have led to sex, sure, but then I reckon ecstasy wins on that count. Of course, drugs kill people and ruin lives. So do guns, politicians, earthquakes, religion, airline food, ignorance, baseball-bats, well timed punches, badly timed racing drivers, and a host of animals. But none of these things gives us the sheer pleasure while hastening our demise that drugs do. Wine is my drug of choice.
Every now and again I’ll post a column on a certain word that wine people – myself included – use to describe wines that can be slightly troubling. I am going to try and make it a little bit clearer as to how the word is being used in reference to wine. Because as much fun as it is pairing wine with death, one must try to be of some use. Slight disclaimer: This is a column that imagines its readers enjoy thinking about wine a little. If you are happy with the “Ja, not battery acid I’ll drink it. Fuck that it’ll kill you” approach to drinking wine, this may annoy you.
There is so much drama in the SA wine industry at the moment, what with caffeine conundrums, and now a damning (albeit one-sided) report from Human Rights Watch that Western Cape fruit farmers are treating their workers like it’s the 1860s. I thought I would steer completely clear of such depressing matters and uplift the wine drinking nation with some sound advice as to what wine to open when faced with certain situations in your life.