Towards a dry, white sensation 14 September 2006

Some top-end white blends intrigued Melvyn Minnaar at a recent tasting

There is something deliciously egalitarian to the thought, neatly accentuated by Dave Hughes, that  both bottom-end plonk and the array of expensive try-to-be icon whites offered at the tasting in question here, are made by adding together wines from different grapes.

That thought, cutely tickled with socialist contradiction, hints at how high (or low) the bar is set, not only for those who grandly indulge in producing the Great White Hope, but also those who must convince high-paying consumers to acquire and drink it, and then praise it.

It is the latter which seemed more of a point of contention in the second ‘Great  White Tasting’, arranged by Ian Naude, which included six local white blends, as well as two important ones from Portugal and Spain. To the question of what a truly great white (Cape) blend is, the answer, judged from this tasting, seems as elusive as ever. Even if one simply defines the paradigm as ‘great wine’, there seems no short cut to that the definition of greatness.

The wines offered seemed too different, drawing attention away from their intrinsics - unlike the first tasting at Dornier, offered by Naude two years ago. With the majority edging towards the style of white bordeaux, others taking the ‘warmer Mediterranean’ route, insight on taste fell short.

In fact, Christiaan Eedes suggested that the styles of white wines should be more closely defined when they’re being assessed.

But there is no doubt about the smartness of some South African white blends. Eben Sadie’s Palladius and André van Rensburg’s  Vergelegen ‘White’ sell out at luxury-level prices.

There is also no doubt of the winemakers’ passion about getting to the great white blend. Organiser Naude is an evangelist, having made some fine wine at Dornier, and now for his own Adoro label (an intriguing wine which uses chenin blanc with great polishing effect.) Van Rensburg is direct: the urge to make the very best possible white wine, whatever the components (which in his case happens to be Schaapenberg sauvignon blanc and sémillon).

Like last time, Bruce Jack’s merry mixture for Flagstone, of no fewer than six different grape varieties, made a strong point about a white wine that does not, at initial encounter, set the tasting tone by reference to varietal aromatics (whether sauvignon, chardonnay, muscat, or whatever), but baffles the taster somewhat, lures him/her into the complexity. One can say, it is a discovery of the new, the usual.

Of course, Sadie’s white also does this. This was comparable in some ways to the Redoma Branco Reserva 2004 –  from the Duoro region of Portugal, made by Dirk Niepoort. This is is a blend of old Portuguese grapes (splendidly name rabigato, codega, donzelinho, viosinho, arinto). Priorat winemaker Joan Sangenis’ Mas d’en Compte 2004 also made use of some leser know varieties, such as picapoll and pansal, together with grenache blanc.

(In Austria recently, I tasted some very intriguing white wines made by the pioneering Viennese winemaker Fritz Wieninger from what is know as ‘Gemischter Satz’ – old vineyards indiscriminately planted to more than seven different types of wine grapes. His Nussberg Alte Reben, made from these vineyards in one harvest, is a magnificent white – also because you simply cannot be waylaid by detecting the Neuburger from the pinot blanc, or the Zierfandler from the traminer!)

After the tasting, freewheeling talk was about consumer acceptance, marketing of these kinds of top-en white blends, pricing, etc. Given the problem that, as blooming beauties, these grand wines have (theoretically) the same origin as plonk, there was much huffing and buffing.

The truth, of course, is fairly simple: greatness will out - strong individuality will be counted and acknowledged.