
Mike the First,
and the Great Palate
19 February 2007
Mike the First
My husband always urged me to push myself forward a bit –
‘You’re too diffident, dear’ he’d say, drowning his disappointment with
another cirrhotic glass . And if the Grape lot weren’t such a dour, drab
bunch holding me back, now that I’ve blossomed a little with maturity, I
could have my own banner heading: Exclusive! The
first widow in the world to passionately and exclusively bring you
hand-crafted insights from the winelands.
The dear man never knew Mike Ratcliffe of Warwick and
Vilafonté, or he might have better appreciated my charming reticence.
Amongst other pushy things, being the first – or claiming to be so,
whenever possible and even when not – is something Mike clearly values
highly. I don’t know whether he learnt this passion for primacy all by
himself (along with the art of massaging auction prices for his wines), or
through his wine marketing education in Australia: perhaps there was a
course that trains you to be creative with the truth, and then, if you’re
publicly caught out, well, just change the story.
Some of us were first led to wonder about this when we
noticed a sycophantish report on Winecoza about the American magazine
Wine Enthusiast’s enthusiasm for Warwick Trilogy: how and where, one
puzzled, could the magazine have got hold of the untruth that this
was ‘the first Bordeaux blend from the Cape’?
More recently,
the same easy-going website (which is apparently not all that fussy about
what it carries, especially if payment is satisfactorily made) offered a
press release from Vilafonté, the winery in which Mike is a partner. Another
Ratcliffe first proudly proclaimed: Groundbreaking! The first winery website
in the world to carry online videos of the harvest! Trouble is, the claim
was patently untrue and misleading, as was courteously but firmly pointed
out in a comment posted on the website by Gary Jordan, who’d been doing
video-things at Jordan Winery for a while already.
Then Winecoza
showed its willingness to also remove anything from one of these
paid-for pieces if some contradicting truth arrives to embarrass their
client. If you looked on the website a day or so later, the original untrue
claims had been magicked away – along with Gary’s comment (let’s hope he
doesn’t mind being thus censored without so much as a by-your-leave).
Unfortunately, much of Mike’s prose remains. It must be his, surely:
appalling as many PR consultants are, surely no professional could switch
off their pomposity filters so effectively as to allow them to perpetrate
some of the stuff there – like the sentence suggesting that the purpose of
the not-quite-world-first videos is ‘to bring the passionate consumer closer
to the real face of winemaking and give them exclusive insight into the
remarkable lengths that we go to to create serious red wine’. Those
remarkable lengths, the passionate consumer can pantingly and exclusively
discover, seem to go even as far as picking grapes and fermenting them –
wow!
But other, as
yet unchallenged, first prizes are claimed for Vilafonté on their own
website as well as in their portentous press releases. This is, they say in
big print, ‘South Africa’s first luxury brand’. Well, it’s an odd claim, but
it’s difficult to see that ‘luxury brand’ means much more than very
expensive; and one doesn’t need to look far to find local wine producers
predating Vilafonté by having only expensive wines – Hamilton Russell
Vineyards a long time back, for example, Sadie Family more recently with
wines that are quite a bit more ‘luxurious’ in price than Vilafonté’s.
Another
declared primacy is that Vilafonté is ‘the first joint venture between
American and South African vintners’. Well, there is of course the
partnership between the Ernie Els partners and Silver Oak which produced
Cirrus Syrah – launched with the 2003 vintage, just like Vilafonté’s wine. A
pretty close call, I’d say. Is Mike quite sure that his joint venture really
was the first? Judging by his other claims, I doubt if he has bothered to
find out for sure.
The great palate
I look at the unseemly public squabbles between that other
Mike (Fridjhon) and Neil Pendock with some sadness. Why oh why can’t people
just be nice to each other in our happy industry? I sigh to myself.
Far be it from me to comment on the substance of the debate
and risk enflaming things futher, but I must say just something about Neil’s
response to Michael’s insulting letter to the Financial Mail, which
had essentially accused Neil of being a mere amateur and a pathetic
winetaster. I’m sure you all saw it. Well, Neil’s riposte the following
week, after alluding to Michael’s many apparent conflicts of interest, was
mostly a triumphant reference to a poll carried in Wine mag – ‘voting
me’, as he said, ‘SA's most respected taster (Fridjhon came a distant
fourth)’.
Now, most
people I know had simply had a good chuckle over the poll and Michael’s
likely apoplectic rage about it, assuming it was more or less a joke, or
rigged, or both. Neil clearly took it seriously, however. For him, this was
evidence, he said, that the ‘broader wine public values the views of
"enthusiastic amateurs"’ like himself. If you’re a more avid follower than I
am of the drivel in the local wine press, you will probably have noticed
this poll in the January edition of Wine, but you won’t have seen, as
one does when polls are respectably reported on, anything about the size or
nature of the constituency. I believe that it was about 150 clicks on their
website that prompted Wine mag to proudly offer this as a valuable
insight into the views of the public. No doubt they were not being
irresponsible, but were confident that this was a representative sample of
people who are in a position to judge.
Neil got a
winning 33 percent of the votes. He’s the mathematician, I know, but to me
it seems that the ‘broader wine public’ he boasts of, who rate his palate so
highly, can be calculated to consist of nearly 50 people. Or, for all I
know, one person pushing the voting button 50 times.
I confess I am
quite intrigued, though, as to how anyone comes to assess Neil’s tasting
ability at all these days – I am a devoted (though occasionally puzzled)
reader of his writings, and it’s quite a while since I saw him saying
anything substantial about any actual wine. Take, for example, a recent
description of Withington Shiraz/Cab, a ‘Pendock’s Pick’ in the Sunday
Times: I quote his review in its brief entirety:
Medieval merchant Dick Whittington famously went to London to
see the Queen and this near homophone and fellow merchant Charles
Withington, does a lot of travelling to source grapes, in this case out to
darkest Paarl.
The result is a generous spicy red with good persistence. As
Cape Town retailer Vaughan Johnson said, 'I’d rather have this bottle in
front of me than a frontal lobotomy.'
Now, this is
unquestionably not intimidating, and quite possibly quirkily charming
(though the first sentence has a rather lame analogy, clumsily expressed,
and a misplaced comma). But this pretty typical example of Neil's prose and
his wine criticism doesn’t really say enough about the wine to give any
evidence of a palate at all, either good or bad, does it?
There are, I
sadly know, bitter and malicious observers of the bitter quarrel between our
two main Gauteng-based winewriters who would cheerfully see them destroy
each other's reputations. But I will drink to reconciliation. Or to blissful
oblivion.