Stuck in the middle no more
South African wine is the product of proud history and massive change.
Friday, December 09 2011 || Mrs C Says || BY Erica Crawford
Wine farmers (as wine makers there are called) commented on how horribly insecure usually supremely confident professionals felt. Three young winemakers visiting us in 1993 were appalled at widespread use of oak chips and chaptelisation (adding sugar) in the industry’s ‘new world’. These techniques were simply not right in the minds of these ‘old world’ types. So what has changed? Well, almost everything. The style of the wine has evolved enormously. The global demand for quality and ‘clean’ wine forced new thinking. Fruit expression is brighter yet the elegant constraint of the old world hand is still evident, securing a unique style.
The spoilage yeast brettanomyces was a hallmark of the old South African style, particularly among wine estates where tradition dictated wine making. The concerted effort to eliminate it from wineries showed in the wines I tasted. ‘Flying winemakers’ who learned techniques in many countries can largely take credit for this drastic directional change.
South African winemakers are determined to create their own style of sauvignon blanc. Bread and butter to us, the grapes are sought after and expensive there.
These sauvignons did not excite me much, but the re-emergence of chenin blanc caused a flurry of interest in my wine list repertoire. Chenin should have been to South Africa what sauvignon is to New Zealand. It gives an additional dimension and, like Kiwi sauvignon, is a wine list workhorse. Wine makers there are experimenting with style and technique and with a bit of bottle age, these wines are brilliant.
Screw caps are topping many a South African wine bottle these days. They are de rigueur downunder, but a big mind shift for South Africans. When Kiwis were leading the screw cap charge, South African wine makers and the public were scathing about the caps. But the wines that showed best all had screw capped bottles.
Sipping a stunning chardonnay at lunch on the stoep (veranda) of an old friend’s 300-year-old estate (this guy virtually lives in a museum), the impact of the changes of the past two decades hit me. The wine industry there is not ‘old world’ yet not ‘new world’, has deeply held values, traditions and responsibilities, so has made for a hard transition to a demanding new global wine market. It also dawned on me that not having wine tradition is not such a bad thing. Europe is a natural market for South Africa’s wine, the big challenge is North America. My hope is the country’s wine will find a place among consumers who think South Africa is difficult to unravel. It is not only the splendor and beauty of the place that makes it so spectacular. It is the resilience and grit, the humour and generosity of a new nation, woven together with its different fibres and many colours.
It is, after all, the only place in the world where you can hire snakes and rats to scare people off — and where you can buy everything at the traffic lights.
Gesondheid!
















