In search of wines past: Part 7 29 June 2007

Angela Lloyd resumes her tastings of local 1997s with memories of a long-past visit to St Emilion and a look at some local 10-year old versions with cabernet franc and merlot

St Emilion was a disappointment. Not the medieval town itself, where we marvelled at the narrow, cobbled streets lined with old buildings, the monolithic church in particular. Carved out of the ground as a single piece, the church's crooked pillars only add to its charm and authenticity. Nor our delightful auberge, which had, I swear, the smallest bath in France as well as an evocative view over the renowned vineyards. Nor even the restaurant (one of the few open on a Thursday - why Thursday closing we wondered!) where I recorded in my diary that we ate ‘one of the best steaks ever and really crisp pommes frites', though I regrettably neglected to note the name of either the restaurant or local wine that partnered our meal.

I described St Emilion as a touristic heaven, so where's the disappointment? That the welcome the town afforded tourists did not run to the wineries; there was barely one open to the public, let alone without an appointment. And even an appointment didn't guarantee a welcome, as we discovered at Château Cheval Blanc, where it took ages to find anyone to show us around and then, I noted, ‘he wasn't very enthusiastic or informative'. (Sorry, Pierre, this was long before your time, I know this wouldn't happen under the Lurton regime!).

The area's ghostly spirit continued as we walked right through Château Ausone without seeing a soul, while a drive further afield through St Emilion and Pomerol also failed to elicit any welcoming ‘open' sign.

It was all so different from our experience in the Médoc earlier in the week. Here we had enjoyed visits to star châteaux such as Mouton Rothschild, Margaux, Haut Brion, Palmer, Yquem and more; several even offered us tastings. We gleefully thanked the tour bus that failed to arrive at Yquem, leaving the bottle of '76 to be shared between four of us! The year was 1980, before I joined the wine-writing fraternity professionally, so we considered ourselves very lucky that such celebrated cellar doors were opened to us.

Much has changed in Bordeaux since then; with the failing fortunes of many less important châteaux, opening to the public is a marketing necessity. The latest Decanter supplement advises that in St Emilion ‘there are plenty of châteaux that are open and welcoming - if you know on which doors to knock.' With the names such as Lurton, Boüard and Moueix becoming as well known in the Cape as on the Right Bank, I do know which doors I'll be knocking on before my next visit!

We have yet to return to St Emilion and, if the French don't mind, I'm sure we will. I add the caveat, as our many of our visits appear to have coincided with poor vintages - 1980, 1987, 1991 and 1994, so we might not be welcomed back! But then, poor' vintages are all relative; a Château Figeac 1980 tasted blind a few days ago was in great shape and fooled us all. So much for Michael Broadbent's no-stars rating of the vintage and his drink-up notes (of ten years ago) in his Great Vintage Wine Book!

Franc and merlot 

To our own difficult vintage, 1997, and wines based on the Bordeaux Right Bank varieties, merlot and/or cabernet franc. Merlot has become the whipping boy of the South African vineyards and is, possibly the only variety without an established hierarchy, though Steenberg and Thelema are well regarded. Saxenburg excelled in 1997, chalking up a Platter five star rating for the Private Collection Merlot; it includes 10% unwooded cabernet sauvignon from 1998.

Cabernet franc, on the other hand, is the sexy number in the Bordeaux varietal entourage, especially on the Helderberg in Stellenbosch. Cordoba Crescendo can take much of the credit for this association. Although always based on cabernet franc, the wine's partners have varied according to vintage; in 1997 they were 20% cabernet sauvignon and 10% merlot.

Both the Crescendo and the Saxenberg Merlot wines were deemed worthy of ageing in new French oak, a decision that has been vindicated ten years on. That said, the wines are very different, the blend once again more robust and showing greater fruit richness, though capturing Crescendo's trademark elegance and restraint.

No surprise it stood up better than the Merlot to my spicy venison sausage braised in red wine, shallots and mushrooms. Has the Saxenburg's heart and soul flown? My first impression thankfully changed a day later, when, within its admittedly light frame, there were traces of the opulence and bitter chocolate core of my Platter description (2000 Guide). But no time should be wasted in further maturation and, please, a much less exuberant dish than my choice should accompany it.

Crescendo too seemed to grow (no pun intended!), cabernet franc's filigree leafy, spice singing with great purity above the still rich texture; the tannins still very much alive. While I doubt time will reap further rewards, as with the Welgemeend, I'll be in no great hurry to drink our few remaining bottles.

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My search for wines past has been fascinating and provided some interesting conclusions: the white wines have been the stars, gaining immensely in complexity over the ten years. The reds generally have been less exciting, showing their acidity and age, except the blends have far out-performed the varietal wines .. now there's food for thought.

But wait, with unholy cold weather and snow sitting over the Cape there's a bottle of 1997 Cape Vintage Port that needs exploring.…