Interesting and addictive liquids 15 February 2007

Might the absurdities of coffee geekdom have some lessons for winelovers?
Tim James wonders

Was this really what I wanted? Arcane rituals of pouring and sipping; claims of fanciful flavours; references to obscure places I had no wish to know about; descriptions in a language remote from English as she ought to be spoke…. No, I realised I didn’t want it; and yet, and yet, it was all hinting at a new world of enriched experience and understanding, one that I maybe didn’t want to inhabit but would like to visit occasionally.

And all this wasn’t even about something reasonable like wine, but coffee! I had innocently resolved to learn more about another addictive drink from which I get pleasure. Hence this confrontation, in books and websites devoted to coffee geekdom. It made me (as they say) think. Is this what it feels like for people who enjoy wine, and want to know a bit more – but who don’t want to feel overwhelmed by a mass of information, challenges, secrets and pretensions which might (or might not) give some sort of key to a garden of delights?

It made me think, then, about both wine and coffee. First, I decided I couldn’t cope with being ambitious with both. To hell with the idea that genuine satisfaction was hopeless unless I roasted my own beans. Too bad if coffee tastes ghastly to the experts unless it’s made with water at exactly 95 degrees (or is it 96?). I accepted, though, the idea of always using freshly roasted beans (never much more than a week old), and acquired a  better grinder. Well, I think it’s better: you wouldn’t believe how much earnest discussion is possible on the subject of grinders – nearly as much as there is in different circles about wine-glasses. Using one of those whirling blade grinder things is laughably inadequate – ‘slow-rotating conical burrs’ are vital.

It’s easy, of course, to make fun of the jargon and rituals of other people’s passions – there’s plenty of ridicule directed at wine, after all, that I put up with. But that’s my point really: I was reminded how intimidating it can all be for those on the outside, wondering how to get in – and whether it’s worth the effort.

It is worth some effort for wine even more than coffee, I’m sure of that. Although my expertise claims must remain modest, I’ve become dissatisfied with coffee made from stale beans, or poor quality ones. I’ve sampled (even made!) coffees from a dozen different countries and know that I’ve enjoyed the Ethiopian ones most – though I wouldn’t begin to pretend that I could sniff, slurp and spit (or whatever coffee geeks do in the ritual they call ‘cupping’) and make identifications and highflown descriptions. In short, I’ve sharpened my sensitivities and upped my coffee-pleasure quotient, and added to the quality of my sensual life.

Oh, and I also spend a lot more money. All of these benefits and the one disadvantage are assisted by the splendid newish coffee supplier in Cape Town called Origin Coffee, where there’s enthusiasm, considerate helpfulness, a lack of pretentiousness – and some great coffee. I do hope there are winebars and wineshops that are as welcoming, unintimidating and informative, all at once.

Wine is more complicated, of course, with a lot more variables involved. But I’ve realised what are the really important first steps: lift the quality and enlarge the range of what you drink, pay more attention to what you’re drinking, and … don’t worry, be happy.

My coffee adventures have also confirmed a crucial category in my basic wine preferences, the one that must be met before I order another glass or buy a bottle or a case. Difficult to explain, but what must be there is ‘character’ and ‘interest’. You don’t get them in bland bulk wines like Tassies and Graça, and certainly not always in expensive and high-scoring wines.

What for me makes Vergelegen the standout Cape producer is its combination of character with quality, from the top reds to the modestly charming Vin de Florence. (For top-end good value, the Cabernet Sauvignon, at around R120, is hard to beat.) Other current favourites on grounds of character and class include Black Rock and Lammershoek (both from the Swartland), Franschhoek’s Solms-Delta and Chamonix, Stark-Condé in Stellenbosch, and Tulbagh Mountain Vineyards.

Incidentally, I’ve noticed with some alarm that Origin also stocks a large range of teas. I shall resolutely ignore them: there’s a limit to the number of interesting liquids with which one can form meaningful relationships.

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