Rust en Vrede Estate Blend 2008

TLDR: Who cares what it costs? This is discernment, dominance, desire, and alliteration. In a bottle. //
Quality: 19/20
Price: Current vintage (2013) R385 – R450 (as of September 2016) //
Value: kinda irrelevant (but compared to other wines in this price bracket…this is stellar value) //
Ponce factor: Stratospheric //
Occasion: Dinner with the firm’s partners //
Key words:  Concours Mondial Bruxelles, Wine Spectator Top 100//
Vivino rating //

Tasting notes:

Blend: roughly 60% Cab Sauv, 30% Shiraz, 10% Merlot
This is like Lincoln, Mandela & Thatcher pressed and distilled into a bottle of pure authority. An enormous wine that is simultaneously imposing and seductive.
Vanguard aromas carry black olives, oak, plums, cassis, and dried violets, leading onto a heavy rounded palate of ripe plums and cassis set against glorious black cherry acidity.
Pepper emerges on the tail, accompanied by gloriously well-integrated tannins and a marachino cherry tail that lingers for days.
If the sheer joy of drinking it is not enough, it has more than its fair share of bragging rights:
1. 93 points from Wine Spectator
2. Position 78 on Wine Spectator’s Top 100 for 2012
3. Concour Mondial Bruxelles Gold Medal

To fill those awkward silences…

There are times where the joy of a wine is purely sensory, and then there are those times, where half the joy it to be attained outside the bottle. This wine is the latter.
Not only does it comes from an estate with over 300 years of winemaking history behind it, but Rust en Vrede has been established over the years as one of the most lauded South African estates on the International stage. Not only has their Estate blend garnered silverware from Concours Mondial Bruxelles, and given Rust-en-Vrede their fifth appearance in the esteemed Wine Spectator‘s Top 100 list, but R&V’s Single Vineyard Cab Sauvs & Single Vineyard Syrahs are no strangers to the upper Echelons of the Wine Spectator scoring system, or Platters 5-star status either.
In short, Rust en Vrede did not simply produce a superb wine in their Estate Blend 2008, but have proven time and time again, that they are a truly world class vineyard. They were Nelson Mandela’s choice of wine at his Nobel Peace Prize-giving dinner; they produced the first South African wine to be listed in the Top 100 wines of the world; and the proceeded to repeat that feat for the next four consecutive vintages. I don’t often gush like a Taylor Swift fan on Grammy night, but when I do, it’s usually because of an overwhelming sense of national pride, not unlike this wave, brought on by the genius of a team like the one lead by Jean Engelbrecht and Coenie Snyman.

Don’t even say the word “Rubicon”.

But let’s just pause for a second. Because whenever making claims of this grandeur about a South African wine, there will always be a reprobate, usually just having returned from the can, where he most certainly did not wash his hands, who will say, “Yeah, but nothing can touch the rubicon.”
Now, there are no doubt a number of contenders who could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with this beauty – Groot Constantia’s Gouverneurs Reserve; Costantia Glen’s Five; Warwick’s Trilogy, Rustenburg’s Peter Barlow… But Meerlust’s Rubicon is not one of them.
Admittedly I feel like the lady doth protest too much on this matter (“the lady” being me in this case), but I only do so, because it is almost a certainty that any one of your dinner companions, who realises that he has been properly wet-willied by your magnificently tasteful wine choice will (no doubt) try to invoke the power of this status totem by saying something vulgar like, “Oh, now I wish I’d brought the Rubicon that I left in my gym bag.”
When this happens, don’t get violent, as would be fitting, but rather just suggest that it’s best that he let it rest for a few more years. It is a commonly known fact that Rubicons are universally and perpetually “going to be magnificent in a a decade or so.” They’re life retirement annuities for vampires. Far more valuable when unrealised.

Don’t take my word for it

In contrast to a lot of wine in the R300+ bracket, this wine performs remarkably well in blind tastings, and is superb value despite it being priced where it is. But rather than have to endure any more of me frothing uncontrollably about it, why not slip a bottle into your next red blend blind tasting and see for yourself. To really test value, you’ll want to have wines from a range of price points…and just for good measure, include a Rubicon from the same vintage and decide the matter for yourself 😉

 

Lismore Chardonnay 2014

TLDR:  A world class wine with a matching price tag//
Quality: 16/20 //
Price: R220 (as of Sept 2016) //
Value: 1/5 //
Ponce factor: High //
Occasion: Feminist’s Convention After Party //
Key words: Pricing philosophy, Cool Climate //
Vivino rating //

Tasting notes:

Sam O’Keefe is one of the few SA winemakers to have a wine listed in Robert Parker’s Top50 red wines worldwide (her 2014 Syrah), but it’s her white wines that impress more consistently. This chardonnay is no exception. Superbly clean kiwi fruit acidity, set against the ever so delicate hint of vanilla & delightfully lingering lemon rind finish, makes it obvious why the international demand for Lismore wines is so intense. The downside of all the acclaim, of course, is that it’s driven the price fairly high.

To fill those awkward silences…

Samantha O’Keefe is Erin Brokovich

Sam O’Keefe is a modern day hero for both men and women alike. But I imagine her story would appeal to almost every woman I know – A single mom to two very young boys, stranded in desolate foreign land, on the brink of financial ruin, trying desperately to make wine in an area where everyone said it was impossible. It’s either the stuff of lunacy, or the makings of a silver screen Erin Brokovich-style epic.

There she was, in the classic battle of wo(man) against the elements, ploughing onwards (yes, that was a farming joke), despite reaping only very low yields (and a few votes of no confidence from her neighbours). Heck, Eastwood himself could not have cut so stark a silhouette against the harsh frontier skyline.

And, as every character must do on their path to hero status, O’Keefe faced what seemed like insurmountable challenges. Financial pressure was building significantly, and Lismore Wines was in a race against time to start turning profits (Forget Erin Brokovich. I just cast Dolph Lundgren in the role of Sam, with Vin Diesel in the director’s chair).

Keeping with the cliche, O’Keefe was on the verge of giving up, and heading back to her homeland (California, USA) to lick her wounds. If only she could sell that damn wine farm… but for whatever reason, no one seemed to want to buy a doomed vineyard in a region where no one else seemed able to grow anything of any worth…

But as it turns out, this cinematic tale has a happy ending.

But then (all of a sudden, Dolph), one by one, globally renowned wine critics began writing the most incredible things about her wines. Robert Parker first – giving an accolade that no other SA winemaker has achieved… then Tim Atkin praising her Viogniers… and then the international demand followed. Very shortly, it became almost impossible keep any wine for her South African fans. Most recently, she started buying extra grapes from Elgin to produce her latest Age of Grace Viognier (it’s superb, BTW).

And so a (stratospherically-priced) rock star was born…

Now the fact that none of her white wines can be purchased for less than R200 per bottle has left a few disgruntled wine lovers accusing Sam of being greedy. Of tearing the ring out of things. Of destroying the concept of good value.
But anyone who cares to take a closer look at the situation will see that this is nothing more than good old capitalism at work, and the simple result of supply and demand.

When her vineyards produced dramatically lower yields per hectare than she had predicted, her business plan was all of a sudden in drastic need of revision. Instead of 8 tonnes per hectare, she was lucky if she got four tonnes per hectare. This puts a gargantuan nigh-on Tarrantino-esque kibosh on her plans for profit, and a responsibly funded education for her kids.

But what her vineyards withheld in quantity, they made up for with quality, to the extent where wine buyers in the US, Europe, and Asia were knocking on her door daily (sometimes literally, and sometimes figuratively) for more of what the O’Keefe vs Greyton terroir combination could delivery. It is now at the point where she spends a large amount of her admin time simply telling wine lovers that she has nothing left to sell, because everything has been reserved for markets ranging from New York to Beijing.

To buy or not to buy…that is the question.

And so here we are, with Lismore Chardonnays at almost R250 per bottle, and her viogniers no longer available in South Africa – purely due to International demand. Do we curse O’Keefe for her ability to garner foreign currency, or do we acknowledge that, by and large, South African wine lovers are simply short-stacked when bidding against the world’s most passionate (and better funded) wine buyers?

Do we rebel against world-class winemakers who start to demand world-class prices? Or do we simply fess up to the fact that, up until now, we have had some of the cheapest international gold medal winning wines anywhere in the world – and that this fortuitous situation can’t possibly last forever.

Either way, the fact that our local talent is being celebrated across the globe should be a cause for mirth around these parts. Because where one winemaker excels, the competitive spirit in human nature will see others follow, and the end result will be the South African wine scene growing rapidly in both quality and reputation.

 

 

 

 

Raka Malbec 2013

TLDR: Do it for the education. Unless you don’t care. In which case, do it for the acidity. //
Quality: 15/20 //
Price: R130.00 (as of Sept 2016) //
Value:  2/5 //
Ponce factor: Moderate //
Occasion: A companion to Thursday’s Ostrich goulash//
Key words:  Cool climate, Acidity //

Vivino rating //

Tasting notes:

If one is expecting an inky purple, velvety Argentine-style Malbec, then you’ll be sorely disappointed, but if you’re prepared for a lighter, dryer, herbs & berries fest, then this guy won’t let you down.
Colour is a clear med intensity cherry-red, providing an apt visual cue for what’s to follow:
Tart red cherries with intense-but-clean acidity, holding glorious length&joined on the caboose by some slightly peppery rocket leaf herbal notes & oak spice.
As Jancis would say, “Average but distinguished”.

To fill those awkward silences…

TL;DR Cool climate wines retain more acidity while developing less sugar. Warm climate wines develop rapidly, which consumes acidity, and gives rise to lots of sugar (and also a high potential for alcohol).
Woo-hoo girls always drink warm climate wines.

Goldilocks hits the sauce

Remember that impertinent blonde forest-dwelling vandal-nymph who kept breaking-&-entering to find chairs, porridge & beds that fit her expectations, just so? The one who refused to tolerate too high, too low, too hot, too cold, too hard, or too soft? Well, it turns out that any decent winemaker has a bit of a Goldilocks inside them, waiting to bust out and make some truly bitching wine.
You see, come harvest time, every winemaker needs to decide when to pick the grapes that (s)he will use in their wine. Like with any fruit, pick it too early and it tastes highly acidic, green, astringent, and stalky. Pick it too late, and it tastes predominantly sweet – overly so – in fact, and it can present as nigh on fermented (not in the “yay-verily” sense of the word). So to pick it “just so” is essential if you value both sweetness and acidity. When a winemaker gets this right, the end result is a balanced wine that presents as neither acidic, nor sweet, but is usually ina state of alchemic-mystical-awesome that makes you want to keep drinking until you pass out. Or so I have heard from friends of mine.

In the plant world “fast metabolism” is bad…

When you’re a human trying not to be an orca, boosting your metabolism is the name of the game.

“Fast is good”, said the annoyingly trim betty, with buns of steel.

But when you’re a plant, the opposite is true. If you’re a grape trying to become an epically complex, balanced wine of renown, you want your metabolism to be as slow as possible.

But why?

Well mostly to allow the slow development of sugars, with minimal decline in organic acids (acids get used up during plant respiration).

But why?
Well, because…
1. a fast metabolism needs lots of food (think teenage waterpolo jock).
2. The need for food in a plant triggers rapid cell respiration, and the production of sugars to feed aforementioned waterpolo plant jock (depending on which analogy stuck with you most).
3. Rapid cell respiration consumes organic acids, leaving nothing left to balance all those newly produced sugars…
4. It also causes rapid fruit growth, diluting all the goodness that may be left, while also failing to leave time for other amazing chemicals to develop before all the organic acid is consumed like Cornish pasties on a Friday.

(If you want more detail, “get thee to a university”).

How does this help me to sound more poncey at dinner parties?

Well, if you remember all those hours ago when we were talking about Raka’s brightly acidic red fruit Malbec that was in no way a velvety, sweet, dense, black fruit Argentine-type Malbec? Well, the reason behind it all comes down to a glorious union between the awful botany and organic chemistry that we just dragged you through…

Cool cliamte = acidic & dry in style ; Warm climate = sweet, full & fleshy in style

Botrivier happens to have at its disposal a rather cool Atlantic-fed lagoon that brings cool breezes in over the land, reducing temperatures in the months prior to harvest.

Cool temperature slow down a grape’s metabolism, which means the ripening process takes longer, acidity is preserved, and sweetness levels are reduced.

Put yourself to the test:

Why not put your newfound organic acidity theory to the test:
1. Pick a grape variety.
2. Pick a vintage.
3. Buy two wines – one from a cooler region (Elgin, Hemel-en-aarde, Botrivier, Constantia) and one from a warmer region (Stellenbosch, Franschhoek, Swartland, Darling), decant both, and see if you can tell which is why purely by focussing on sweetness and acidity.