In search of wines past: Part 5 20 Frebruary 2007

From Burgundy to the Cape

By 1997 pinot noir and chardonnay were well established here,  producing wines that gave pleasure to Angela Lloyd a decade on

Burgundy is wonderfully three-dimensional. Those who are familiar with at least the Côte d'Or will know what I mean. Drive as far south from Dijon along the N74 as this pretty route extends, and the slopes, aspects, vineyards and villages spread out on either side: the Hautes Côtes, or high slopes, to the west, many of the favoured Grand and Premier Crûs on the gentler mid slopes, the land then flattening to the east of the N74, before meeting the Saône river in the far distance.

So easy to understand, especially with two main grapes only to get to grips with: pinot noir for red, chardonnay for white … if only it weren't for the complex soil composition, the myriad, often tiny climats or vineyards, and the equally numerous families (confusingly, many with the same surname!) who farm the land and make the wine! But the upsides are many.

It is the sort of place where travelling on foot or bicycle may lead to happy meetings. Walking though the streets of Fixin on our first visit way back in 1980, the clickety-clunk of a small, hand-operated bottling machine led us to the cellar of Messieurs Molin and Gelin. A warm greeting and invitation to come inside was immediately followed by the tastevin, filled with their good, honest red Burgundy, offered for tasting.

Above the noise of the machine, they told us about their vineyards, including a smallholding in Grand Cru Chambertin Clos de Bèze. Later that evening, we enjoyed a bottle of our new friends' best burgundy with Jambon persillé, Vol au vent fruits de mer and duck at the estimable Chez Jeanette. I wonder if this delightful auberge still exists?

We might not have struck it so lucky had we passed by Domaine de la Romanée Conti…. but no matter, any experience such as ours encapsulates the sense of community and wine culture that makes Burgundy what it is. We can learn much beyond winemaking from the Burgundians.

Pinot noir and chardonnay have had decades rather than centuries to assimilate in the Cape but, as with so much else concerning South African wine, there are now clear signs that winemakers have a better understanding of their goals. Pinot noir remains particularly tricky given its cooler growing and particular vinification requirements, but with confidence the pinotphiles have gained a more relaxed approach and it shows in the wines.

Pinot in the Hemel-en-Aarde Valley

If any South African winemaking family is associated with pinot noir it is the Finlaysons. Walter was first off the pinot mark, producing some charming examples at Blaauwklippen, but it was his younger brother, Peter, with Tim Hamilton Russell, founder of Hamilton Russell Vineyards, who were determined to put top quality Cape pinot noir and chardonnay on the global map in the then uncharted territory of the then southernmost and coolest winegrowing area of the Hemel-en-Aarde valley. Not only uncharted but, in the early 1980s, also illegal as far as vineyards were concerned thanks to the KWV quota system. Subterfuge was the order of the day for several years; thank goodness this determined duo remained undeterred!

Despite pinot vine material then being limited to the unflattering Swiss BK5 clone, the Finlaysons usually managed to coax some suppleness and elegance in their wines.

Peter Finlayson started his own Hemel en Aarde winery, Bouchard-Finlayson in 1991; Burgundian Paul Bouchard provided the authentic intention of the enterprise, new, quality clones, the wherewithal to raise South Africa's competitiveness on the world stage.

With twenty-five-and-a-bit vintages under his belt in this valley, now abuzz with many more pinotphiles, Peter is well-placed to claim familiarity with all aspects of growing and making his Burgundian duo, though like any perfectionist, every vintage brings the promise of improvement.

His 1997 Galpin Peak (named for a landmark behind the winery) was a Platter five star wine in its launch year; `The closest you'll get to the Côte d'Or south of Lyons.' was the guide's enthusiastic declaration. (New Zealand's Central Otago was still a few years off hitting the pinot headlines.)

Ten years on, the Galpin Peak would probably not attract five stars, though it remains a pinot of some charm, showing liveliness and delicacy, the typical pinot core acid fine though becoming a little pointed when sipped alone. But as Peter asserts, food is an essential to bring out the best of this grape. It blossomed when savoured with quails stuffed with grapes; its supple, light-texture combining mature and savoury flavours in harmony with its freshness. A quietly satisfying partnership indeed; I preferred it to the rather more oaky magnum of Peter's 1997 Tête de Cuvée served which I also tried recently.

Chardonnay in Robertson

If the Cape's wine producers have been cautious in taking on pinot noir (today's nearly 535 hectares compares with 151ha in 1983) they have adopted a far more gung ho attitude towards chardonnay (170ha in 1983 - nearly 8000ha today) though probably little of that that 1983 figure was the genuine stuff and winemaking success has proved nearly as elusive as with pinot. More haste resulted in less speed when smuggled chardonnay vines (the authorities were dragging their heels too much for producers' liking) proved to be auxerrois.

Over a quarter of those 8000 ha are planted in Robertson, where the rich vein of limestone suits the grape to a T, initially as a table wine though lately bubblies have been taking centre stage, but they're for another time.

Abrie Bruwer is Springfield but he could have stepped straight out of Burgundy. He's a man of the (Robertson) soil and has been all his life. He takes pride in reflecting that soil and the air surrounding it as accurately as possible in his wines and is never happier than when sharing them with friends and customers alike.

His approach, not so much hands-off as ‘look Ma, no hands', is taken to the extremes of Burgundian derirng-do in his Méthode Ancienne Chardonnay; sometimes it works, others it doesn't and the whole lot has to be abandoned (at which point, sister and Springfield marketing supremo Jeanette hides her face in her hands!).

Uncover your face, Jeanette; take a bow, Abrie, the 1997 was wonderful. Brilliant in appearance, spirited yet calm in its composition; its creamy richness paced by natural, savoury acid, the flavours forming a gentle growth curve of intensity and reluctance to fade. It is a wine such as this that is proving the Cape is chardonnay country and making the ABCers change their minds. More so when the wine is complemented by the scallops with caramelised chicory I prepared.