Coming down to heaven and earth 11 April 2008

The subtle, refined wines of Bouchard Finlayson, sampled by Tim James

The Hemel-en-Aarde valley doesn’t always seem to be a happy place in terms of enthusiastic wine-producing collaboration. While two other famous valleys – Constantia and Franschhoek ­– are showing a notable degree of dynamic co-operation between the wineries, and the wines and their image are prospering, this cannot be said for the quiet and still sparsely populated valley just inland from Hermanus. There are more and more wineries setting up, and there are many good wines,  but there is more sign of squabbling (they still can’t even agree on the ward structure and what to call the wards) than of co-operation in building a shared reputation.

Nonetheless, there’s plenty going for the Hemel and Aarde, and shining brighly amongst its advantages are chardonnay and pinot noir, with Bouchard Finlayson undoubtedly one of those deploying these fine grapes with greatest aplomb. There’s also sauvignon blanc, of course, and a whole host of varieties – a handful of them are in BF’s rather delicious and untintimidating Hannibal blend: one wonders what could be the link between the Burgundian passions of Peter Finlayson and this idiosyncratic blend of Italian varieties (a lot of sangiovese, plus nebbiolo and barbera) with pinot and … shiraz, but one is glad that there is such a link.

In fact, it’s one that runs through all Finlayson’s wines: a lightness of touch, a restraint, and at its best a real finesse. His Sauvignon Blanc 2007, for example, is the opposite of showy; there’s no green brashness, no overt pungency, just a cool crispness, with fairly delicate but forceful notes of granadilla and citrus. It’s a very good food accompaniment (as was shown at an excellent lunch at the Cellars-Hohenhort in Constantia, where Peter showed some of his wines).

A similar combination of subtlety and quiet forcefulness is there also in the Sans Barrique Chardonnay 2007 – it’s rather odd, of course, that the abiding expectation is that chardonnay is wooded, so that an unwooded version must be announced as such. Finlayson’s was one of the first of this genre (the label was launched with a 1997) and it is certainly one of the finest, with a fine silky balance, a touch of citrus and, as Peter pointed out, unusual notes of banana – a character which always appears, and is presumably associated with the Kaaimansgat vineyard, near Villiersdorp, where the grapes come from. Incidentally, this wine is not the second-best remnant of the BF Kaaimansgat Chardonnay, the wooded version (which we didn’t sample on this occasion), but makes use of the earliest grapes to come off the vineyard.

The Missionvale Chardonnay 2007 is from Hemel-en-Aarde vines. It has a lightly nutty, oatmeal character, and a spiciness which seemed to emerge with the food, but a real joy is its texture: it’s satin-smooth and sensuous but with an austerely mineral spine (if that’s not mixing too many metaphors). As with all his wines, Finlayson has a light hand with oak – just a quarter new barrels, for seven months. Would that all producers of chardonnay would heed the lesson that this fine wine could teach: seriousness is not a function of wood flavour.

I think we were all waiting (though happily) for the Galpin Peak Pinor Noir, and it came as a triad of vintages: 1997, 2001 and the current (already nearly sold out, apparently) 2006. These were the standard bottlings, not the Tête de Cuvée barrel selection made in some particularly good vintages. The 2001 had its particular admirers: it’s a comparatively bold wine, still easily in its prime, rich, with the subtle fruit sweetness at its core that makes fine red wine, perhaps especially pinot, so lovely. A lightly tannic structure, but with fresh acidity playing a vital shaping role, as it should.

For me, certainly, it was the 1997 which starred, however. It had all the positive virtues of the 2001, with less possibility of being accused of chunkiness, with an added finesse, and more ethereal charm to its perfume. Long and harmonious, with some complexity, it should hold its own for another five years with no diminution (given perfect storage, of course…). The colour – not too deep, and with some browning at the rim, was scarcely more advanced than that of the 2001.

Peter Finlayson, is not sure that the 2006 has the structure and fruit to mature as long and as well as that 1997, but it’s a very good wine – and the context of the two older ones made it amply clear just how young and even raw it is, and how much the patient winelover will benefit by holding it for at least a few years (longer, if you have somewhere cool and dark to keep it). The farmyardy, earthy notes already mingle very happily with the youthful raspberry notes, and again there is no rush of oak to contend with – just 30 percent of the barrels were new.

A decade or so back, the prevailing wisdom around the world seemed to be that pinot noir was doomed to never achieve first-class results anywhere outside Burgundy. That view is much less heard these days – Germany, Oregon and parts of California, and New Zealand  have ensured that; and there are other good examples from Australia and elsewhere. The Cape too, has shown that it’s possible to make fine pinots here – once one learns how, and has decent vine material planted in suitable sites. The Hemel-en-Aarde and Elgin are, so far, the areas showing most promise. We have Hamilton Russell, Paul Cluver with their new Seven Flags version, perhaps Oak Valley and one or two others; and we have Bouchard Finlayson as perhaps the clinching argument.

• Link to the Bouchard Finlayson website