The Arnie and Dolly show 8 November 2006

Viognier does not usually make an exactly  subtle wine, suggests Tim James in his latest noseweek article

My scandal of the month is called viognier. Pronounced, as a few winemakers certainly don’t know, something like vee-ON-yeer (or vee-ON-yeay to sound a little more French). If you’re already au fait with this, you might also realise that viognier is among the more louche and disreputable grapes, and need read no further. For others, I shall first digress, in order to attack my quarry from behind, in good cowardly fashion.

There are, of course, some splendid resources of nonsense available to winewriters. Although the Platter Guide, for example, seems to have tightened up on metaphoric-euphoric excess, we still have such evocative delights as a ‘hovering citrus thread’,  ‘fruit seamlessly etched’, ‘powder-fine tannins escort[ing] lovely elegance on exit’.

One shrinking resource is sexual stereotypying, subject as it is to a stern social gaze. Sexism still manifests itself in wine notes (not just Platter), but when, say, a delicate wine is described as (therefore) feminine, or a powerful one as (therefore) masculine, many editors now have the grace to add quotation marks.

Intriguingly, a bit of gender confusion can come into play around ‘blockbuster’ wines, where the emphasis is on massiveness – notably of ripe fruit flavour and alcohol, sometimes of oakiness, and often a soft thickness of texture. It’s not uncommon for them to be personified as ‘Schwarzenegger wines’ to underline their forceful power. When the describer wants to stress the abundant fleshiness, however, it is equally plausible to sneeringly (or lustfully) refer to ‘Dolly Parton wine’. Ultra-macho and exuberantly female become united and equated in the idea of excess, of a vulgar lack of subtlety.

Furthermore, although no one is likely to mistake Arnie or Dolly for each other, even – or especially, God forbid! – in the dark, what were once comfortably conceived of as polarities can get more confusing yet. As with viognier, which is what urged me into these deep waters: I was wondering how to characterise it and felt tempted to invoke the standard sexual stereotypes – but as with the ‘big boy/big girl’ duality of the blockbuster wines, I was oddly and simultaneously tugged in different directions.

Prosaically, I should first establish that viognier is a white grape variety increasingly in vogue around the world in the last decade or so. Its name now pops up all over the wine-shelves – including, strangely enough, in a supporting role among the red wines. Geeks will want to know that there are some 650 hectares of it planted in Cape vineyards – well in excess of, say, pinot noir; ten years ago there was almost none.

Clearly some people love viognier, but it can be a most irritating grape to intolerant and irascible others. Some wish it had been strangled at birth – even before its sex had been argued over. So what are those signs that are going to have people assigning gender? Basically, there’s generally a lot of showy perfume (flowers and, above all apricot-peach), and there’s usually also plenty of alcoholic power. You do the assigning. Dolly Schwarzenegger or Arnie Parton? Or one of the hairier-chested macho mincers from the Village People?

My squabble is not viognier’s sexual identity, though; it is that I find it rather dull in its effusiveness – making even pleasant nonentities like run-of-the-mill sauvignon blancs seem packed with personality. A little of it goes a long way. When it is gets treated like chardonnay and lavished with oak, it has definitely gone too far. And when it gets added to shiraz (a fashionable trick of the moment), unless its more cleverly and subtly done than usual, it’s also gone in quite the wrong direction. The best thing is to throw it among a few other white grapes and make an interesting blend.

But of course (said he, backing down fast) it is nice to have a good varietal viognier occasionally, even if only as a reminder how much better riesling and chardonnay and even chenin blanc are. There are some good viogniers around, even at middle prices (and most are quite expensive): my favourite ones recently have been Graham Beck’s (around R50), and a good 2006 bargain (at R32) from a new producer called Towerkop – from Ladismith of all places; this has all the typical characters in restrained mode, and is fresh and bracing.

Some are so markedly fragrant and alcoholic, though, that if you try it and decide it’s too much to be expected to drink the stuff, you could always put a dab behind each ear, Dolly … er, sorry – Arnie.

• This article first appeared in Noseweek, 'South Africa's unique investigative magazine'

COMMENT

From Jean-Vincent Ridon (winemaker at Signal Hill):
Viognier has never been an elegant and balanced grape. This obscure cultivar from the northern Rhône was almost dying out until Mr Robert Parker discovered the Condrieu appellation. When I started in the wine industry, Condrieu had 27 hectares of vines, plus 3 ha of Chateau Grillet [the other, single-estate, appellation where viognier is the only permitted variety]. That was only 20 years ago.

So the validity of your point can apply to France. Condrieu was a difficult wine to sell on the French market, and because of the difficulty in selling the wine, they allowed the grapes to be blended with the syrah of Côte Rôtie to allow the farmers to use their existing plantings.... Viognier was so difficult to sell in the 1980s that a part of the crop was used for semi-sweet and sparkling wines, sold mostly around Lyon.

Viognier is somehow vulgar, but so are many modern wines, and this easy fruity, peach nose has been an entry point to many new drinkers not ready yet for the acidity of, for example, Sancerre or the austere minerality of a Savennières [both Loire wines].

Although viognier can be done in a very modern style – simple, fruity, short – with aromatic cold fermentation, the variety can give very interesting expression of some minerality and length with warmer fermenetation in barrels, like the first releases of Fairview Viognier, made by Anthony de Jager.

Thanks J-V. This is an interesting thought about the origins of using viognier in syrah wines from Côte-Rôtie - though as they are different appellations, it would surely be a problem? I asked another winemaker, Chris Williams, who makes both shiraz and viognier wines, and is a Master of Wine student into the bargain, for a further brief comment: