You say gelato, I say gelati
18 July 2008
OK, let's get it over with
once and for all in the forthcoming months – ‘Disclaimer: I am
married to the editor of the Platter Wine Guide, and I’m one of
its associate editors’.
Now, moving on to matters more
important, ‘you say gelato, I say gelati’ – and I’m the happier
bunny because mine’s the plural for an Italian ice cream made
from milk and sugar, combined with other flavorings, whereas
yours is the singular. And, when it comes to Italian ice cream,
more is always better.
That’s
where Jessica, author of ‘Italian
Gelato Flavours Decoded’ and I are on the same page. My
favourite flavour is limone (lemon) while Philip’s is pistachio;
Jessica’s is – well, every second flavour she discusses appears
to be one of her favourites.
Suffice it to say that
yesterday, while tasting and rating several wines for the
upcoming edition, I picked up a glass, nosed the wine and
thought … blank! I knew the aroma, I loved the flavour, I
remembered when last I enjoyed it (Verona, 2006). Remi had
cioccolato fondente (dark chocolate) and I had a double scoop
and it’s name was … blank!
I Skyped Angela Lloyd. Did she
know the name of that gorgeous dark berried gelato called
‘something to do with forest’? Maybe ‘… di bosco’. Angela
confirmed that ‘di bosco’ means of the forest, but hadn’t come
across the ice cream before.
So I called the Spar in Lion’s
Square in Somerset West where, after being put through to six –
yes six – people who weren’t too concerned about my quest, the
helpful Derek listened to my appeal for him to put down the
phone, walk across the shop and get the brand name of the ice
cream they sell there. (A simultaneous internet search was
yielded numerous gelato recipes but no translation for fruits of
the forest.)
Fortunately, they stock Fruits
of the Forest; unfortunately, they label it in English, but
Derek volunteered to track down the stock-keeping file and see
if it included the Italian name. He promised to call me back. At
which point, Jessica’s site flashed up and, as I read through
the Italian names, it hit me before I even came across the
words, ‘frutti di bosco’, how easy. Why was I making it so
difficult?
‘Frutti di Bosco’ mused Angela
over Skype. ‘Does the Ed allow Italian?’ ‘He has to,’ I said.
‘He told me to sex it up and Italian is sexy.’
So the phrase ‘frutti di bosco’
currently appears in the description of wine of the wines I
tasted this year. Hopefully, the Ed lets it through. I’ll buy
the first person to report spotting it in the 2009 guide some
gelati of their choice – three scoops!
By the way, the photograph of gelati was taken by me in Verona
too long ago.
Olympic dream
16 July 2008
I was making pizza for our
supper last night – before you start on my responsibility as a
wife and mother to provide nutritious meals, the Van Zyls regard
pizza as a complete meal: there’s the carbohydrate base, the
vegetables (my sauce contains tomatoes, garlic, onions and
carrots – how else do you get carrots down an 11-year old’s
gullet?), the dairy and the protein (ham and salami) – and
reading through Luke’s Sports Illustrated while waiting
for the oven to heat up to 250°C … and there it was on page 62:
Sunday 10 August ‘Must Watch’: Swimming
– Women’s 400m IM Final (04h00), SA competitor: Jessica
Pengelly’.
Jessica
has been heralded as a teenage ‘swimming sensation’. At 16 years
of age, she is youngest member to be included in the South
African Olympic squad for Beijing in 2008 after swimming two
Olympic 'A' qualifying times in the South African National
championships; she broke the South African Open 400m individual
medley (that’s the ‘IM’) record on both occasions.
This performance makes her one
of only three women in South Africa that have swum Olympic
qualifying times, and she is presently ranked 11th in the world
for women for this event. So, while Sports Illustrated is
‘predicting’ she’ll earn a lane for herself in that final, it’s
almost-almost a sure thing that she’ll be lining up as,
according to
www.en-beijing.cn, there are eight swimmers in each final.
I think I have seen Jessica
three times in the almost 13 years we’ve lived across the road
from her and her family; Dad Don is the object of the youngest
Van Zyl’s fascination. He’s a pilot for South African Airways,
and Luke often sends me over – usually with a box of half-empty,
just-tasted-for-Platter wines – to ask about flap positioning
for a Boeing 747, and so on. (I believe it’s 20° on approach,
30° as soon as you put your gear down, ‘spoilers up’ when your
rear tyres touch the runway, and thrust reversers on a few
seconds later when the nose gear touches. Is that right, Luke?)
Last week, on our flight to
Johannesburg, we were thrilled to hear Don’s voice talking from
the cockpit, and even more thrilled when we got to visit just
after parking. Proud as he was of his aeroplane, and keen as
always to answer any of Luke’s questions, Don was justifiably
prouder of Jessica and excited about the family’s plans to join
her in China.
So, neighbour, the Graham Beck
Chardonnay Pinot Noir is already in the fridge in anticipation
of Jessica getting to swim at 04h00 CAT on that Sunday. I’ve
polished the bubbly glass and set a reminder on my cell phone.
Hope to see you on the screen, and Jessica fly through the water
on her way to another personal best – and, touch all the blue
gum wood in the forest around the house – a medal. I bet she
always eats her carrots.
PS: Book finished, no more
wine consumed.
Sweet start, sweet finish?
10 July 2008
I’m in Jozi [which means
Johannesburg, the un-slangy editor is fairly confident],
where wine pickings when I stay with my parents are slim. And
that’s what I’m doing, because Luke’s with me. So, inspiration
for a blog is nowhere to be nosed or tasted.
But I did, last night, get
pretty close to finishing Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell,
and felt I should tell you that Jonathan’s next encounter with a
wine – remember, he started with a sweet wine from Constantia
before moving on to a red from a hellish vintage – was a Vin
Santo. He gulped it down very quickly after using it to dissolve
a tincture he had concocted to assist him summon fairy folk.
I quite like Jonathan; he has
all the adventures and gets all the wine. Poor Mr Norrall has
only sipped tea so far (that’s up to page 949 – 57 to go).
Vin Santo is a ‘passito’ wine
style from Tuscany in Italy, ‘passito’ referring to the fact
that the grapes are concentrated by drying (usually – for
commercial purposes – in a winery loft where windows are left
open to let in air) before fermentation is allowed to begin. The
main effect of this drying process is a loss of water and
concentration of sugars, so that alcohol potential rises by
about a third.
The grapes used are trebbiano
and malvasia, and the wine is aged post fermentation in small
barrels of 50 to 300 litres. These are sealed and never topped
up resulting in considerable ullage and oxidation, which gives
the wine a characteristic amber colour as well as a high
volatile acidity. It is made in a variety of styles from sweet
to bone dry and sherry-like.
I don’t know which Jonathan had with his hallucigenic, but it
seems he had a fun time!
Interested
in exporting to India?
4 July 2008
Here’s an appeal for South
African producers looking for new export markets. I have a
friend attending Cape Wine in September who wants to arrive a
few days early to tour the winelands (to see if my descriptions
of its beauty and its people’s hospitality are exaggerated) and
hopefully visit a few wineries interested in exporting to India.
His
name is Subhash Arora – here he is alongside – and he is
president of both the
Delhi
Wine Club and
Indian Wine Academy.
If you’re such a producer and
would like me to forward your details to Subhash,
email me
According to Dharti Desai, a
wine importer into India interviewed by Subhash on his web site,
there are about 5 000 imported labels in India – that’s a
substantial number of competitors for would-be exporters. But
she reckons she’s able to take advantage of the growing interest
in wine using several different channels – she sells direct to
hotel groups and high-end restaurants for example, and has a
data base of 285 000 gold, sliver and platinum credit card
holders across 13 key metropolitan areas to which she markets
wines direct.
Indian wine entrepreneur
Vikash Gupta, director of Vinner Enoteca, agrees that doing
business in wines in India is not easy, and has a lot of
administrative hurdles. According to him, there’s the:
• unstable and unfriendly
import policy, and the fact that, administratively, every
state is a ‘different country’ because of a federal
character (for example, the government of Maharashtra
government has hiked the excise duty into its state from
150% to 200%)
• poor warehousing and
logistics facilities
• ban on advertising of
wine in any form
• lack of wine culture and
awareness
However, Vikash believes there
is a wine-ready market in India just waiting to be exploited. In
an interview with Subhash he said: “India is a nation with more
than half of its 1.1 billion-strong population being under 35
years of age. If we want to expand the market, we have to target
the 25-40 age groups.” From his initial forays, this group is
more than ready to embrace wine as their alcoholic beverage of
choice.
India sounds like a tough market to me. But then, in today’s
economic environment, aren’t they all?
Stop
braai-ing! It might help with the 'burnt rubber' phenomenon
2 July 2008
It’s a phrase no red-blooded
South African ever wants to hear – ‘Stop braai-ing, for now and
for ever!’ But there’s just a chance (a tiny one) that
University of Stellenbosch Professor Florian Bauer will yell out
those words – undoubtedly with as much flair as
chef-cum-TV-show-host Ainsley Harriet on the cooking challenge
programme ‘Ready Steady Cook’ – if he really intends following
up every suggestion as to what is causing the so-called ‘burnt
rubber’ character some Brits find in South African wines.
That’s right: overindulging
(near vineyards) in the traditional South African barbecue, the
braai, has been fingered as the culprit in one of the 100 emails
Prof Bauer has received since being asked by Wines of South
Africa to lead the team investigating the phenomenon. [See
Grape’s report on the
research.]
While the sender of the mail
(probably) intended it as a joke, Wosa and the professor are
taking the task very seriously indeed, as he reported to a small
gathering of journalists, chefs and sommeliers in Stellenbosch
yesterday – mostly there to help Wosa select wines for some
categories at Cape Wine 2008 being held later this year. Florian
said Wosa and the research team wanted to involve the industry
as much as possible in their research and, while he didn’t have
much to report back so soon after the London Tasting, he
welcomed the opportunity to provide an update.
In
the first instance, analysis of media coverage about the
phenomenon suggested it is confined to red wines; no journalist
wrote that they’d come across it while tasting white wines and
white wines were therefore excluded from the line-up in London.
Secondly, the tasting had given the team a number of wines –
control and ‘tainted’ samples – to work with and perfunctory
analysis of these have shown the characteristic is not confined
to vintage, variety, or place of origin.
Now comes the long part,
painstaking analysis of control and tainted wines with respect
to grape growing and wine making to highlight that root cause …
or causes. To improve the process, and possibly speed it up, the
research team is appealing to everyone in the industry to alert
it to wines that it hears overseas buyers, tasters, consumers
and journalists referring to as having ‘that burnt character’.
‘The more samples of tainted wine we have to work with, the
better’, he said.
To conclude his brief session
with us, Prof Bauer put six wines on the table, three tainted
and three not, no clue as to which was which. If you recall,
I’ve suggested before that South
African wine drinkers are not susceptible (as susceptible) to
the characteristic because of a ‘national palate’ so I was very
keen to discover if there was an over-riding character that I
could identify.
Two wines definitely had a
similar and unfavourable ‘character’ for me, two definitely
showed no sign of it, and I was undecided about the other two;
they both had a character I couldn’t quite put my finger on but
was it the ‘burnt’ or ‘singed’ phenomenon? I opted for the wrong
wine, scoring 2 out of 3.
But I learnt something, and if
my scores help the team, that’s fine. Remember, email
Andre Morgenthal if you
know of any ‘tainted’ wines – Prof Bauer needs more samples to
analyse
A comment from
Angela Lloyd:
A couple more points which may help others recognise
this 'burnt rubber' character. A feature I found each of
the tainted wines have in common, as well as the apt
'burnt rubber' character, is a lack of fruit; it is as
though all the fruit has been stripped from the wine,
leaving a lean, dry tannic skeleton. I had wondered if
over-ripeness or stressed fruit were going to show as
part of the problem, but even with those, there is a
sense of volume in the mouth or a sweet/sour
rhubarb/tomato sensation respectively; but these weren't
apparent in any of the three tainted wines. I'm not sure
if this trio were selected as extreme examples, but -
for me - they certainly stood out from the 'clean' wines
and I'd rate them very poorly. It's interesting, given
burnt rubber appears from these samples to be so
recognisable a description, that local tasters haven't
picked it up before - but maybe in a judging situation,
with so many other faults around, the wines just receive
no medal without a particular fault being noted.
Scotland,
the Helderberg and vintages of Hell
27 June 2008
It
seems as if the mountain on which I live (well, a slope does
count as a mountain even if I am rather low down on that slope)
attracts inclement weather regardless of what is happening in
the rest of the Helderberg Basin formed by the Helderberg and
the Hottentots Holland range. The sun can be shining over the
town and False Bay as storms abate but not-so-wispy clouds will
continue to swirl around the mountain’s western peak, and the
north-westerly wind will ensure they release their moisture
intermittently during the day and night. The dogs and I don’t
mind, actually. We think it’s rather dramatic and interesting,
and are wondering if it could be anything like Scotland, a place
neither they nor I have visited.
We’re basing our assumptions
on another passage from ‘Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell’ by
Susanna Clarke. In this section, the Fairy King is interacting
with Stephen Black, a man servant who fascinates him and whom he
regularly transports to fairy balls and fairy lands for his
entertainment and amusement.
When
he woke it was dawn. Or something like dawn. The light was
watery, dim and incomparably sad. Vast, grey gloomy hills rose
up all around them and in between the hills there was a wide
expanse of black bog. Stephen had never seen such a landscape
calculated to reduce the onlooker to utter despair in an
instant. ‘This is one of your kingdoms, I suppose, sir?’ he
said. ‘My kingdoms?’ explained the gentleman [Stephen doesn’t
know his identity] in surprise. ‘Oh no! This is Scotland!’
Just before the Fairy King
transported Stephen to Scotland, he had poured him a glass of
wine which he referred to as ‘one of the vintages of Hell’.
'I dare say you have heard of
Tantalus? The wicked king who baked his little son in a pie and
ate him? He has been condemned to stand up to his chin in a pool
of water he cannot drink, beneath a vine laden with grapes he
cannot eat. This wine was made from those grapes. And, since the
vine was planted for the sole purpose of tormenting Tantalus,
you may be sure the grapes have an excellent flavour and aroma –
and so does the wine.'
And Stephen’s verdict? 'It is
altogether excellent, sir!'
I guess there are more than a few tantalised winemakers
worldwide who can attest to at least one Vintage of Hell, but
would their wines have turned out as fine without the Fairy
King’s intervention?
First is first, and second is second?
24 June 2008
I must have changed my mind
five times about what to present to a wine club last week.
Eventually, I sourced eight wines from just four producers. Can
you deduce what my theme was? After tasting all eight in the
line-up and knowing exactly what you know, the members of the
club had a go. It wasn’t different vintages, it wasn’t
(strictly) different cultivars, it was – as one taster pointed
out – price. Or (strictly) a tasting of first and second wines.
As you all know, second wines
are a completely different kettle of fish to second labels.
These are the same wine bottled under two or more different
labels to disguise that fact. Except for the name, and often the
price, wine A is exactly the same as wine B, and wine C, if the
producer or retailer so desires.
Second labels – and they do
exist in South Africa – are regarded by some as a valuable, cost
effective tool enabling a retailer, for example, to appeal to
different market segments using packaging and image without
going to the trouble of sourcing from different producers, or
requiring a favoured producer to make different wines (that
costs). There are many producers that will quite happily label
their wines to suit a retailer’s requirements as well as – if
the order is large enough – those of an individual customer.
Think ‘personalised label’ for a company conference, 21st
birthday, corporate gift, and so on. And does it really matter
if the consumer isn’t really being given choice, just duped into
thinking she is?
By contrast, second wines
originated in Bordeaux to utilise the crop from vineyards that
were not delivering grapes of sufficient quality for the grand
vin. The reasons for this could be that the vineyards are deemed
too young and their crop does not have the concentration and
aging ability; or vintage conditions negatively impact fruit
quality, or perhaps even mature vines might not produce wine
that fits the style of the chateau.
Well-known second wines from
Bordeaux include Château Leoville-Las-Cases’ Clos du Marquis
(first bottled in 1904), Pichon-Longueville-Lalande’s Reserve de
la Comtesse and Cos d'Estournel’s Marbuzet. In Spain, there’s
Vega Sicilia’s Valbuena and in Italy Ornellaia has its Le Serre
Nuove.
Last
week’s line-up included Waterford’s Pecan Stream Sauvignon Blanc
2007 and Waterford Sauvignon Blanc 2007, Rupert & Rothschild’s
Classique 2006 and Baron Edmund 2003, Saronsberg’s Provenance
Rooi 2005 and Seismic 2005, and Boekenhoutskloof’s Porcupine
Ridge Syrah 2007 and Boekenhoutskloof Syrah 2004. (You’ll recall
that Saronsberg's Provenance Rooi fared better at this year’s
Old Mutual Trophy Wine Show than did its ‘grown up’ wines.)
Before the tasters learnt what
the wines were, they debated quality, and I have to admit the
scores and comments did not reflect the same degree of variance
that the prices did. In fact using a median score (very crude, I
know but this was not a show, rather a gathering of enthusiasts)
five of the wines scored 15 points, including both Waterfords
and both Saronsbergs, and the Porcupine Ridge while both R&Rs
scored below 15 and the BHK Syrah above.
After revealing what the wines
were, some tasters were thrilled that their palates actually
preferred the less expensive wines, and others a little bemused
that their ‘champagne’ tastes had been confirmed.
And one sighed in frustration at the fact that he loved the
evolved character of the 2003 Baron Edmund but couldn’t find any
enthusiasm for the younger red vintages. A relative newcomer to
this country, he doesn’t have a cellar of South African aged
wines. We pointed him in the direction of Mooiberge Farm Stall,
which does.
What’s
cool, and what will be cool
18 June 2008
Earlier this week, wearing my
working hat, I was tasked by a client, Affinity Publishing, to
write a media release based on research conducted on its behalf
by Dr Carla Enslin of Vega The Brand Communications School.
Affinity publishes The
Encyclopaedia of Brands & Branding in South Africa, and had
asked Dr Enslin to poll students – aka ‘the youth’ – at Vega
about ‘cool’ because it thought an analysis of the responses
would make for an interesting chapter in the 2008 edition.
The expression ‘cool’ has been
around for a long time. It was first popularised in 1933 in jazz
circles by tenor saxophonist Lester Young as a characterisation
of excellence, being highly skilled, or socially adept. Today,
according to Dr Enslin, it has become part of everyday language
and enjoys an enviably – or frustratingly – fuzzy range of
meanings.
I found reading the answers to
the questions she’d posed interesting. There was the:
comedian: ‘Cool is a
temperature.’
egotist: ‘I am cool.’
non-conformist: ‘Smoking is
cool.’
the other non-conformist: ‘Not
smoking is cool.’
poet: ‘Cool is the breeze that
blows in between still and a gust.’
ageist: ‘Cool is anything that
appeals to the youth.’
capitalist: ‘Cool is GAP,
Lacoste, Hugo Boss.’
socialist: ‘Cool is something
that appeals to the vast majority and is socially acceptable.’
intellectual: ‘Cool is a
social construct, a celebration of vanity.’
cynic: ‘Sliced bread is cool.’
the other cynic: ‘Cool is
Black Cat Peanut Butter.’
Of course, there was also
evidence that the youth is aware of and concerned with social
and environmental issues, for example global warming and
sustainability. According to them, ‘What’s going to be cool?’ is
‘hydrogen powered cars’, ‘bicycles’, ‘green’, second-hand
clothing’, ‘social awareness, organic products and global
responsibility’, making something, not buying it’, ‘being
environmentally friendly’, and ‘jerseys home-made by your
granny’. (Yes, granny’s not cool but the fruits of her labour
are. Typical.)
However, within all this,
there’s also the future of the wine industry. Someone answered
‘Cool is property, wine and fashion.’ And, another someone – I
hope it was another someone because then the industry would have
two potential customers out there in marketing school land –
answered the question ‘What’s going to be cool?’ with two words:
‘Allan Grey’.
That’s the investment company. And that respondent gets an ‘A’
from me.
Too Salty
for my taste
13 June 2008
I read Nic Dawes’ comment on
Melvyn Minnaar’s rather nicely written (well, I think so) 'tale
of four restaurants and their winelists' with interest
because, I too, when reading it initially, had wondered why
Melvyn had not mentioned the restaurants concerned in his text.
Perhaps it was because he is
not a recognised professional restaurant critic, perhaps it was
because he just didn’t feel like dealing with the angst and
recriminations that were bound to be forthcoming if he had,
perhaps … whatever Melvyn’s reasons, they’re mine too, for only
alluding to the establishment where I suffered bad wine service.
Yesterday
was my turn to buy lunch for two ladies whose company I enjoy
immensely. As one had just tied the proverbial knot, I wanted to
mark the occasion with a bubbly. Despite the fact that I’d
chosen an upmarket restaurant in an upmarket Cape Town suburb
(and I’m all too conscious these days of interest rate hikes,
high unemployment, and the fact that charities are being forced
to close their doors because our national lottery can’t get its
financial aid delivery systems running smoothly), I just
couldn’t see my way to splash out with R700-odd for the least
expensive Champagne.
So, I settled for a local
bubbly at just half that, knowing full well that it retails for
far less but reminding myself that restaurants need to charge
high prices for wines and spirits because they use beautiful
stemware, keep pallets of stock and spend a fortune training
their staff.
And, for a while, when our
waitron brought us elegant flutes, I bought into the argument.
Pity she then proceeded to fill them to the brim with the
faintly pink effervescent liquid so that we were forced to sip
furiously if we wanted to enjoy it chilled. And, I also really
liked the large glasses she returned to the table with when we
ordered an Ataraxia Chardonnay to accompany our food (the wine
costing more than our three mains together). Pity we later found
it necessary to fetch the bottle from the ice bucket ourselves
when our glasses needed refilling.
As the afternoon wore on and
the restaurant emptied (it was never full), the service waned
even more. Finally, our asking if the bar had any Armagnac was
met with a fully blank stare. Not even the explanation, ‘a
French brandy’, elicited a glimmer of even Cognac-like
recognition.
So, we left; impressed with the food, in love with the view, but
feeling that our waitron was certainly not worth her salt, and
decidedly ‘ripped off’ by the lack of the very service
restaurateurs claim high wine prices buy.
Comment
from Emile Joubert:
Pray, Cathy and Melvyn, what on earth is the use of
employing your journalistic rapiers without letting the
readers know who your targets are? Whining – in writing –
about substandard eateries without naming these places is
not really going to contribute towards rectifying the
situations so bemoaned in these missives. It's like bitching
about a movie without letting the readers know who the
actors are, or what the title is. So why should we care?
Literary endorsements
11 June 2008
Where was I the other day when
I happened to read a review of the movie ‘Sex in the City’,
named for the television programme that seems to have achieved
almost cult status worldwide? I can’t recall, and it doesn’t
really matter. What piqued my interest was that the reviewer
mentioned, quite indignantly, that the ‘plot’ appears to play
second fiddle to the glamorous and expensive products that are
placed centre screen in almost every scene.
I seem to recall that this
very fact – product placement – was one of the major gripes the
association of screenwriters put on the table during their
negotiations with Hollywood some years ago. Big brand names
continue to be written into the script left right and centre,
James Bond’s cars being one of the most obvious examples. Could
you ever have imagined Q handing over the keys to a brand other
than Aston Martin? I couldn’t, but it has happened … and can bet
your last tank of petrol for a pretty hefty price.
But I’m certain that our wines
are not paying for their appearances – albeit brief – on the
pages of current top selling novels. In just one week, I came
across two mentions. In fact, I’m certain I’ve come across a
South African wine in one of John Connolly’s books before – I
suspect in one of his other tales about hit men, Angel and
Louis.
So it felt a bit like déjà vu
when I read The Reapers on the plane recently for there,
on page 202, was yet another mention. This time, the passage
went ‘The men sat at a circular table, dining on red meat –
venison and fillet steak – and drinking Dark Horse shiraz from
South Africa.’
Dark Horse is one of Bruce
Jack’s Flagstone labels; I wonder if he even knows that it gets
a ‘literary’ mention. And I wonder, too, if the Constantia
vintners know about their mention in the New York Times
bestseller and Time magazine’s Book of the Year,
Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke?
Set in the early 1800s in
England, this states, on page 318, ‘She offered him
Constantia-wine, marmalade, an old-fashioned wigg bun – all
sorts of delicacies – but he refused them all.’
This reference certainly makes sense, for at that time, sweet
wines from Constantia were all the rage. But still, it was a
pleasant surprise, for no other ‘product’ has been detailed yet
in 318 pages; I’ll let you know if another is by the time I get
to the end on page 1006.
‘Real’ riesling and ‘real’ ice wine
5 June 2008
The deadline for submissions
regarding the Paarl Riesling-Crouchen Blanc-Weisser
Riesling-real Riesling showdown was May 31 and, in the run-up to
my recent trip, I forgot all about it until I received a
reminder from Angela Lloyd, on the side of the ‘real’ riesling
producers, urging me to read the proposal. So, from my hotel
room in Seville, I emailed my two cents’ worth to
André Matthee, director of regulatory services at the
Wine & Spirit Board.
As you know, our wine law
currently allows for ‘Cape riesling to be called Paarl riesling
or crouchen’, according to the proposal André was circulating (I
would have said ‘allows for crouchen to be called crouchen or
Cape riesling or Paarl riesling) when it comes to the local
market. At the same time, ‘weisser/Rhine riesling must be
indicated as such, and may not be labelled as riesling’ (again,
my choice of words would have been ‘riesling must be indicated
as weisser riesling or Rhine riesling). However, for most
exports, the exact opposite applies – crouchen can only be shown
as crouchen and riesling can’t be labelled as Rhine or weisser.
The proposal on the table is
that, at some future date that takes into account existing stock
levels, the international situation prevails, and that crouchen
must be labelled as such on the local market, and that riesling
may be labelled as riesling, or weisser or Rhine depending on
the producer’s desire. Well, that’s how I understood it.
But
having sent off that email made me think, as I approached the
Canadian Eiswein (ice wine) stand at Vinoble, what the producers
of ‘real’ ice wine – that is made from grapes – thought about
sharing the stand with apple ice wine. Needing a break from
unctuous PX sherries (the very sweet ones from Pedro Ximenez
grapes) I decided to find out, of course under the guise of
tasting the wines – I mean, ciders.
The two producers on show took
their apples very seriously indeed. It takes upwards of 50
apples to make just one 375ml bottle of the Leduc-Piedmonte
Reserve, which is vintage-dated, and retails at €60 after
fermentation and spending 12 to 18 months in French oak.
At Domaine Pinnacle, they use
six different varieties and around 80 apples to make just one
375ml bottle of Sparkling Ice Cider. It’s one of a kind in
Canada, and is made according to the charmat method – undergoing
a secondary fermentation in tank rather than in the bottle.
The alcohol of both these
wines was around 10%; they were slightly nutty and very spicy,
quite like an apple and cinnamon pie without the cream. And,
very refreshing. I was glad I’d bumped into them but didn’t want
to waste too much time on apples, when grapes were being
offered. (In the pic that’s Charles
Crawford of Domaine Pinnacle with bottles from both producers.)
The next stand offered wines
from three different VQAs – Vintners Quality Alliance – a wine
of origin system: Pelee Island Winery (VQA Pelee Island),
Pillitteri Estates (VQA Niagra Peninsula) and Colio Estate (VQA
Lake Erie North Shore). Alcohols ranged between 9% and 11% and
the grapes used were vidal (not a vinifera grape, but the
hybrid of a ‘proper’ wine grape and a native American grape at
all) and riesling. I preferred those from riesling, the acidity
of this grape being far brighter than that of vidal. That said,
the vidal has a foxy, floral character, which is nice for a
change.
Animosity? None that I could discern and probably because the
cider makers didn’t want to masquerade as an ice wine, they far
prefer to be called Cidre de Glace. And who wouldn’t? When
Domaine Pinnacle started making sparkling ice cider in 2000, the
market was worth barely Canadian $100 000; today it tops
$8-million.
The challenge – my final wine in Spain
30 May 2008
What to do, what to taste when
you look at the Vinoble directory and realise you’ve not
experienced even half of what the fair has to offer and you have
just a few hours left? Of course, I couldn’t miss Madeira, and
also spent a happy 45 minutes tasting my way through some lovely
Marsalas (the 10-year old Martinez Vergine Soleras Stravecchio
was tasty) and a few older samples (the 50-year plus Baglio
Oneto) were stunning, as was a Passito de Pantelleria (a wine
from an island in between Sicily and Tunisia) called Kabir, from
the Donnafugata stable.
Then, armed with a list of
amontillados, olorosos and VORS to seek out, provided by the
British sherry expert Julian Jeffs, I made my way – again – to
possibly the most interesting room on the fair.
In this room (or rather two
inter-leading rooms), across the hall from where I’d had a
guided introduction to sherry and VORS sherries by Beltrán
Domecq of Beam Global Spirits & Wine (one of the world’s largest
spirits companies and which owns the brandy brand Fundador and
sherry brands Pedro Domecq, Terry and Harveys Bristol Cream
among many, many others), were several small serving counters,
each dedicated to a particular style of sherry. This made it
possible to try 15 or so manzanillas, for example, without
moving a inch, other than to lean over the spittoon, before
moving on to finos, olorosos and so on.
With barely 15 minutes before
closing time, and with exhibitors packing up around me, myself
and Czech writer, Helene Baker, and I reached the VORS stand
(very old rare sherry). We demanded, in quick succession, a
Tradición palo cortado (30 years old), one from Lustau, González
Byass’ Apostoles, another palo cortado from Wellington (20 years
old) and then a 30 year old Coliseo Amontillado from Valdespino.
(These stands, I must say, are
staffed by exceptionally knowledgeable people: at the
Oloroso-Palo-Corado-Amontillado stand, for example, the young
lady there knew her way intimately around about 70 wines.)
In
the dying moments of the fair, VORS caretaker, Salvador, didn’t
falter or give us the impression he’d rather be leaving. But I
knew it wouldn’t last. So I told him that I was on my way to the
airport (a little white lie), would he please choose my last
sherry from Jerez? Salvador chose the Amontillado Reliquia a
Barbadillo (I’d had the Palo Cortado Reliquia the day before in
the VORS tasting), and very nice it was too (as you can see
alongside).
Venerable
oldies
29 May 2008
Despite the fact that Vinoble
lasts four days, it is very difficult to taste even half the
wines on offer at the various stands, particularly if you’re
also interested in attending the tutored tastings. These include
presentations of most of the wine styles and countries or
regions represented at the fair, as well as several special
tastings.
Before I’d left for Spain, I
decided the two that were not to be missed at any cost were
‘Sherry wines – the oldest of the region’ and ‘Four vintages of
Chateau d’Yquem’. All of the tastings, these grand ones as well,
were unreserved – first come, first served. I was close to the
front of the queue for both, a reflection of my eagerness.
Fortunately for me, unlike my
Ferrán Adriá-designed ‘El Bulli’ lunch, I was not disappointed.
The
sherry tasting, presented by the director general of the Consejo
Regulador de Jerez, César Saldaña, was exceptional. He had
secured six very rare wines (the first two pictured here
alongside the blue spittoon) for us:
4 Palmas –
Bodegas González Byass: from a solera started in 1871; the
average age of the components of the current bottling is
estimated to be at least 50 years old
AOS
Amontillado – Bodegas Osborne: the solera was founded in
1903 to celebrate the birth of the owner’s son and the first
wines only drawn from it in 1924 for his 21st
‘coming of age’
Oloroso
Tradición VORS – Bodegas Tradición: this is a new bodega (10
years old) but has been a negociant business for many years;
the average age on this is 45 years
Oloroso Añada
1959 – Bodegas Williams & Humbert: from a static (and sealed
by the Consejo Regulador) crianza therefore the fino flor
dies out over the years and the wine ages oxidatively; this
retails at about €800 a bottle
Palo Cortado
Reliquia Barbadillo – Bodegas Barbadillo: apparently from
the ‘No’ butts; butts which the cellar master believes might
turn into palo cortado, or might turn into vinegar, are
marked with a big ‘No’ and left alone, and in this instance,
padlocked!
Viejo Cream –
Bodegas Valdespino: from oloroso and PX with a RS of 140g/l
Tasting
with me was the venerable Julian Jeffs (possibly the most
respected Englishman in Jerez and pictured here), who first
published Sherry in the Mitchell Beazley Classic Wine
Library series in 1961. It has been updated four times since. We
agreed that we had been spoilt indeed.
The next day, Pierre Lurton,
President of the LVMH-owned Chateau d'Yquem, and its maître de
chai, Sandrine Garbay, presented the 2004, 2003, 1998 and 1988
vintages to a room that also included Bordeaux legends John and
Petronella Salvi, and Le Pin and Vieux Chateau Certan’s Fiona
Morrison MW.
Although the room directed
questions to Pierre, he was quick to honour Sandrine (pictured
alongside him) who has made numerous vintages at Yquem after
being hired straight from university several years ago.
As much as I enjoy old wines,
I found myself drawn to the 2004. It was fresh and delicate with
considerable botrytis apricot and humbug on the nose and palate.
This was quite a difficult year – a dry September was followed
by a wet October and about half the crop was left out of the
wine despite rigorous selection during the six tries through the
vineyards – but I thought the wine had considerable balance.
By contrast, the 1988 was a wonderful vintage, if one that was
somewhat late – the harvest finished at the end of November.
This had a dried fruit complexity that I found lacking in the
other wines and was as smooth as silk; yet I found the finish a
little short. That said, I emptied all from my glass – indeed,
you can see the four from this tasting artfully arranged over my
notebook here.
Hanging out
in Jerez
27 May 2008
Seen at
Vinoble …
Russian
wine journalist and educator, Bisso Atanassov, who recently
worked a vintage in Robertson and
wrote about his experiences
for Grape (right), and Yoel Abarbanel, sommelier at Le Gavroche.
Crème de Tête and Straw Wine
from Signal Hill’s Jean-Vincent Ridon, the only South African
wines on show. Also available to taste was Le Signal Muscat de
Rivesalte from Saint Paul de Fenouillet in the south of France;
I suspect made by J-V in his country of birth although no-one at
the stand could confirm it.
Heard at
Vinoble …
Vega Sicilia, arguably Spain’s
best-known prestige winery, plans to launch in South Africa
later this year and will bring its flagship wines, Vega Sicilia
‘Unico’ and Vega Sicilia ‘Valbuena’ as well as those from Alion
(both in the Ribera del Duero), Pintia (from Toro) and Oremus
(from Tokaji in Hungary) to the Cape.
‘My
unofficial research into the seductive capacities of various
varieties shows that, if I can get a girl to drink viognier with
me, the success rate of me being able to convince her to stay
the night is 7 out of 10. That’s the highest so far.’ – a young
sommelier from Brussels.
A few
stars from TopWineSpain
25 May 2008
But first, glimpsed from the
motorway: symbols of two of the
most famous sherry brands: Osborne's bull and Gonzalez
Byass' Tio Pepe'.
TopWineSpain is a one-day fair
held at the Hacienda Benazuza, a prestigious hotel situated
about half an hour from Seville. The exhibitor tables are set up
in the grounds, which are calming and beautiful – little
courtyards brimming with lavender beds and lemon tree groves,
water features, and nooks and crannies where you can sit and
digest, literally and figuratively, what you’ve just tasted.
While
the name implied that the wines on show represent the best of
what Spain has to offer, there is no formal selection process,
indeed any producer could exhibit if they so desired. That said,
most of what I tasted was of a high standard, and I did find
much to like. These are a few of my favourites:
The 2007 Xarel-lo from
Augustus Forum, a producer in the Penedes, is apparently one of
only a dozen or so bottled as a single variety. It is made from
40 year old vines, and I found it refreshing, nutty and gently
seasoned with oak.
I also liked the 2003 Reserva
from Fernando Remirez de Ganuza in Rioja. Tempranillo dominates
the blend (90% - the other grape being graciano), which is aged
in a mix of French (80%) and America oak. This was an
exceptionally warm vintage in Rioja but this wine has retained a
vibrant core, around which sweet – not over ripe – red cherry
fruit is wrapped.
Javier Alen from Viña Mein in
the Ribeiro makes both an unwooded and lightly wooded (5%)
version of the same blend from local Galician varieties. There’s
80% treixadura, 10% todello, 5% loureira and then a soupçon of
albarino, torrontes, albilla and caiño. Both wines were well
balanced and bright, with peaches and floral aromas, and palates
lightly dusted with white pepper.
Very interesting was a 100%
verdejo made at Ossian in Rueda but bottled as DO Tierra de
Castillia y Leon. The vineyards here are 900m above sea level
and have a very deep – 8m – sandy topsoil above clay. As a
consequence of this sand, phylloxera never reached these
vineyards and owner, Havier Zaccaguini, claims the vines are 150
years old, or older. He’s hired a Burgundian winemaker, Pierre
Milman, who is treating the wine as he does his chardonnay in
France – no destemming, no maceration, barrel fermented and aged
on lees for 9 months. The wine was quite exceptional – lemony
with hints of spices, well balanced and elegant.
I also spent a long time at
Pago de Los Capellanes, DO Ribera del Duero. Tempranillo is the
mainstay of the red blends here but I want to tell you about two
single vineyard wines being produced. The first is the 6 hectare
El Nogal (it means ‘tree’ and there’s a large tree in the
vineyard) which spends 24 months in French new barrels, which
are changed every six months (that is, the wine is put in new
barrels every six months, or four times). The oak did show on
the 2004 I tasted but was integrated; the fruit profile was soft
and vibrant, quite modern, I thought.
The two hectare El Picon (the
pinnacle of the triangle) is only made in very good years –
1988, 1989 and 2003, which I tasted. Here, the barrels are
changed every four months but the wine spends a total of 26
months in oak; so it sees new wood five times. Despite this, I
found this wine more classic and more perfumed, and delicately
balanced.
But my favourite wine was from
the producer called La Rioja Alta. As the rain started to fall,
I took the first sip of the 1995 Gran Reserva 904. With
licorice, cherry and ‘cellar notes’ on both nose and palate,
silky tannins and an endless finish, it was just heavenly. So, I
stood in the rain and finished a glass. The beautiful old
building, the dramatic grey skyline and the wonderful old wine
deserved it; I don’t melt.
PS:
My El Bulli meal was super; not as innovative or as tricky as
I’d expected, but lovely just the same. The four courses were:
Nuestro Salamorejo Cordobés (a tomato soup)
Rape al Pil-Pil con Verduritas (fish)
Entrecot de Ternrea al Pesto con Pasta Fresca (beef)
Pastel de Melocotón heladode Vainilla (peach and ice cream)
Crying
over spilt sherry
22 May 2008
As a reward for subjecting
myself to 23 hours of air travel to reach a destination which –
if there were a direct route from Cape Town – would take less
than 10 hours flying time, I promised myself a lunch of local
cured meats and a glass of La Ina (one of the excellent big fino
sherry brands, from Domecq) at the little tapas bar I found at
Madrid airport last year.
As I recall, it was at the end
of one the long T-sections of the terminal, about a 10 minute
walk from the hurly-burly of the major shopping zone. That
didn’t deter me, nor did the fact that I was wearing high-ish
heels and dragging my baggage, and nor did the possibility that
it could be in any one of the four terminals making up the
Madrid complex … I can’t recall exactly from which I’d departed
last year. I’ve always been a ‘glass half-full’ kind of girl.
Unfortunately,
it wasn’t there – so, I determinedly set off for the bar I’d
spotted back where all the people were. Fortunately, they had
exactly what I was looking for but it was self-service and,
in-between guiding my luggage, trying to look sophisticated in
my heels and balancing the tray, my La Ina tipped over.
All that was left is that
small sip you can see in the photo alongside. And I couldn’t
even take a second to leave my table to buy another: it was
lunchtime and the queue never abated. Regardless of my optimistic nature, it
appears as if – today – my glass was destined to be more than
half empty!
• CvZ is on her way to Seville and Vinoble as a guest of
the organisers of Topwinespain and Vinoble to attend both shows
Bulli for
me
19 May 2008
I can’t recall when last I was
so excited – by the end of this week I will have eaten a meal
prepared for me by Ferrán Adriá, the legendary head chef of
Michelin three star restaurant, El Bulli, in Roses on the Costa
Brava. And, by the end of next week, I will have fully immersed
myself in one of my great wine loves, Spanish sherry.
To be honest, Adriá is not
going to be cooking just for me. He’s designed the meal that
will be served to guests attending Topwinespain, a celebration
of the best of Spanish wines being held at The Hacienda Benazuza,
a deluxe hotel which, in a previous life, was an 10th
century Arab farmhouse. After spending just over a day in
Sevilla, I’ll be journeying to Jerez de la Frontera and the 6th
International Exhibition of Noble Wines, Vinoble. Here, I’ll be
able to taste until my taste buds cry for mercy from the world’s
fortified, botrytised and natural sweet wines.
After thus being a guest of
Topwinespain and Vinoble, I’m staying on for a few days at my
own expense to enjoy the limestone buildings and Spanish sun
before heading home to the wake-up call that goes by the name of
Platter tastings.
But back to Adriá. He calls
his food ‘deconstructivist’, and it has inspired many in the
kitchen worldwide. Even in South Africa – my first deconstructed
meal was several Cape Wines’ ago when the restaurant Ginga
served ‘Bobotie with a contemporary perspective’. It was served
to accompany Pierre Jourdan Tranquille at the Celebration of
Cape Cuisine Wines of South Africa (WOSA) hosted in the Castle.
We can all make bobotie,
perhaps not as well as chef, Mike Bassett. So, courtesy of
www.starshefs.com, here’s Adriá’s ‘Apple Caviar’:
Ingredients:
Apple Juice - 1 ¼ pounds golden apples
Apple Reduction - ¾ pound Granny Smith apples
Caviar - 8 ounces Apple Juice, ½ teaspoon
Alginato, 1/8 teaspoon citric acid
Calcium Chloride - 2 cups water, ½ teaspoon
calcium chloride
Garnish:
4 Granny Smith apples, peeled, cored and very
cold
½ teaspoon cinnamon
3/8 teaspoon balsamic vinegar
Method:
For Apple Juice: Wash and core apples and
cut into quarters. Purée apples and pour liquid into a tall and
narrow container. Freeze about 30 minutes so that the impurities
solidify and rise to the top. Remove from freezer and extract
impurities with a skimmer. Strain juice and reserve.
For Apple Reduction: Wash and core apples
and cut into quarters. Purée apples and pour liquid into a tall
and narrow container. Freeze about 30 minutes to solidify
impurities, which will rise to the top. Remove from freezer and
extract impurities with a skimmer. Strain juice and place over
medium heat until reduced to caramel consistency.
For Apple Caviar: While cold, mix 1/3 of
juice with Alginato in blender until Alginato has dissolved.
Heat mixture to 205°F, then remove from heat and stir in
remaining juice. Add baking soda and stir to dissolve. Strain
and freeze until service.
For Calcium Chloride: Dissolve the calcium
chloride in water and reserve.
To Serve:
Purée Granny Smith apples and freeze in a very
tall and narrow container 5 minutes. Fill 4 syringes with apple
solution. Release one drop at a time into Calcium Chloride and
cook 1 minute in water. Strain and rinse caviar in cold water
bath. Drain and add 2 teaspoons of Apple Caviar. For each
serving, put ¾ ounce of caviar in a cylindrical mold, season
caviar with a little Apple Reduction, cinnamon and 3 drops
vinegar. Seal and serve. Enjoy.
Cathy's
blog