The joys and sorrows of old wine 22 November 2007

There's nothing quite like it, says Angela Lloyd, encountering a selection of past Klein Constantia vintages

The concept of 'old wine' to the majority of today's wine drinkers rarely extends beyond the unopened bottle from yesterday's visit to the supermarket. We're living in the 'here, now, immediately' generation (don't we all get impatient if the computer doesn't respond yesterday to a command?); the idea of keeping a wine for a year – let alone ten or twenty – would seem completely unnecessary and incomprehensible. And so it is with the many wines crafted to give immediate pleasure, which they should  – unless falling to the fate of taint from one source or another.

Age is anyway such a chancy business, for us humans and wine alike. Many of us somehow miss our potential maturity, remaining ugly, angry adolescents all our lives; keeling over prematurely is also a recognised shared misfortune. Perhaps it's these similarities that encourages us, as we get older, to appreciate older wines for what they are: a very few are awe-inspiring; others retain a lacy nostalgia, revealing soul despite many gaps in the detail; sadly, there are many that have taken up their perfumed spirit and slid silently away, leaving but a lifeless puddle of liquid.

I've recently experienced the joys and sorrows of older wines; fewer joys than sorrows, it's true, but well worth the imbalance. Vergelegen's flagship White 2002 is hardly an oldie in real terms but it proved utterly fulfilling, dominating every sense with its pleasure; even the pretty routine wine drinking friends we opened it for commented, quite unprompted, how good it was. The extra frisson of pleasure derived from the vintage; 2002 was a devil for mildew, many winemakers were caught napping without resources or financial strength to protectively spray as often as they should. As a result, many wines, both white and red, started life moribund, so to speak. Not André van Rensburg's baby; he has always been an outspoken advocate of this semillon/sauvignon blend, a belief that is holding deliciously justified,  though the wine is still far off its best - thank goodness there are still a few  bottles tucked into an inaccessible corner of the cellar.

Klein Constantia clears its racks

Other wines of a certain age were presented at a fascinating retrospective in the Klein Constantia vinoteque. Since their first vintage, the Joostes have put aside several cases of each wine; so the retrospective offered not only a rare opportunity to explore older wines across the range but there was also the possibility of buying. Sommeliers from several establishments with top cellars were in attendance, so some of these golden oldies might soon be appearing on their lists - at a heavy price though.

The line up started with a very special duo from 1986, the farm's first commercialised vintage (a 1985 sauvignon blanc was never sold).

On the day, the '86 sauvignon blanc (white wine champion of that year on the Young Wine Show) showed better than the Riesling from the same year, though other bottles might have reversed this situation (a 1998 riesling, still fresh and with lovely flavour concentration was terrific, reflecting the benefits of ageing this grape). For at this age, bottle variation becomes much more marked. My notes from their first showing to the media back in 1986, confirm both wines received 24 hours' skin contact. This has probably helped sustain their varietal character to this day, though both are now very definitely full of `lacy nostalgia'.

Not so the 1987 Blanc de Blanc, still awe-inspiring right from its eye-catching brilliance and delicate yet complex botrytis to its honeyed viscosity and dry, lingering finish. The wine's entry to the range was a case of `it's an ill wind that blows nobody any good', except in this case it was `no wind' rather than ill wind, for 1987 was a year marked by rampant botrytis, so much that the Klein Constantia team decided not to bottle a varietal sauvignon blanc. Instead, the botrytised sauvignon was blended with a little chenin blanc and, hey presto, the first, much-lauded Blanc de Blanc was created.

The reds were a more mixed bunch, the best included a 1996 pinot noir with fine aromatic generosity and sweet fruit infusing the velvety rolls, and the 1997 Cabernet Sauvignon Reserve, distinctive for the cool climate cassis/mint tones but attractive fresh fruit richness. Both turn the bad vintage syndrome on its head:  although neither wine was mind-blowing, both made far more pleasant drinking than vintage reports would have it. Strangely, the varietal cabernet was far more successful than any of the Bordeaux-blend Marlbrooks (1996, 1998 and 2000), though only the 1996 had retreated to a 'puddle'.

The desssert wines

A state one wouldn't expect of either older Noble Late Harvests or the iconic Vin de Constance. In fact, if I expected any wines to shine it would have been this stylistic pair; regrettably it wasn't to be. The youngest botrytised dessert, an '05 Sauvignon Blanc, performed as one might expect of such a young wine; '02 and '92 didn't.

It was interesting to compare the notes from my vertical tasting of Vin de Constance (Grape 14, April-July 2002) with my thoughts on the '88, '92 and '96 now. Then I found the 1988 (***) had a somewhat one-dimensional raisiny nose with a suggestion of toasty oak. Drier than others, it lacked voluptuousness, leaving the alcohol quite prominent. A shorter term future, I guessed. Now this bottle at least had more grapey character but showed the leanness I noted five years ago. Probably best to open soon. I was much more enthusiastic about 1992 (****(*)) but our first bottle was a dud, very brown and musty/mushroomy. The second had more fruit and freshness but not of a calibre to match my initial comments. Presciently, I mooted leaving the 1996 (****) at least five years, saying `it will be very good'. Here we are five years on from that tasting and it is developing as promised, gaining in complexity. I hope I'm not being overly optimistic in declaring this can be safely left to mature.

A tasting of mixed fortunes, which is as to be expected, but for me the joys outweighed the sorrows.  A glorious older wine is something that every winelover should experience at least once; it might even throw a whole new perspective on the desire for instant gratification.