Popularity breeds success, success breeds fashionability; and, as we know, as quickly as something can be in fashion, so it can disappear through the black hole out of fashion.

And I’m not referring solely to shiraz here, but we’ll come to that bit later.

Shiraz, of course, has been the variety of the moment for much longer than ‘the moment’ fashion usually lasts! Well, here are both Michael Fridjhon and myself writing about it; Wine magazine devotes a Challenge to it; wine lovers continue to drink it and producers continue to supply that demand.

The latest SAWIS statistics reveal shiraz now covers just over 10 000 hectares, that’s about 10% of Cape vineyards, making it the fourth most planted variety (after chenin blanc, cabernet sauvignon and colombard). In 2000, shiraz represented 5630 ha or +- 5% of vineyard area; a good indication of how the grape’s popularity has increased.

The trouble, as with every other fashionable variety, is that not every vineyard has been ideally sited and not every winemaker has been ideally experienced to successfully guide the grape into wine. Hence the title to this piece, there’s wine that’s labelled shiraz and there’s real shiraz.

Hartenberg Shiraz definitely falls into the second category. The farm, which stretches up the north-west facing slopes of the Bottelary Hills, has been renowned for shiraz since – well, for those of us for whom the 70’s represent an early memory, since the Finlaysons owned the farm, marketing their wines under the Montagne label (the 1974, as with so many other reds of that vintage, stands out as exceptional).

When Ken McKenzie purchased Hartenberg in 1986, he recognised the heritage of shiraz and determined to improve on it; in fact, one of the tastings which helped to grow my love of Rhône syrah, was hosted by Ken back in 1988 (25th February to be precise; I still have my tasting notes, which is why I remember the date!) and presented by Michael Fridjhon. Then Danie Truter was the winemaker; today, Carl Schultz (pictured here at the lunch) heads the cellar team, as he has done since 1994; a long tenure by Cape standards and one of the reasons why Hartenberg shiraz, which accounts for 60% of production, is such an authentic and distinctive wine. I say wine, but in fact there are three versions – the regular bottling, The Stork and Gravel Hill. Shiraz also combines in the excellent value and drinking Cabernet Sauvignon-Shiraz blend.

The opportunity to try all three varietal wines, two across a couple of vintages, was not one to turn down (Platter or no Platter!). The time given over a recent lunch at Societi Bistro, was instructive, delicious and thoroughly worthwhile.

The three varietal offerings are very different wines, separated neither by marketing design nor sleight of hand in the cellar but rather more significantly by the sites where the vines grow. In all there are 15 blocks of shiraz on different soils, nine of which provide suitable fruit for the varietal wines, the balance being channelled into the blend. From this it must be clear how valuable to the end result is Carl Schultz’s knowledge of the land.

Interestingly, he wouldn’t have automatically thought of planting shiraz on the terra rosa soils at the top of the farm. This is where The Stork comes from and using this site was the inspiration of consultant Alberto Antonini.

The richness of this red soil, some 7 to 10 metres deep, is reflected in the wine. It is big, viscous and demanding, full of spice and red fruits with narry a sign of its 26 months in new French oak. ‘It needs to be fruit driven rather than wood assisted,’ explains Schultz. If it clocks in at 14%+ alcohol, the effects are diminished, as in the other two, by its total lack of residual sugar. Thank goodness, it’s an absolute no-no for Schultz.

Gravel Hill vines, on the other hand, grow on much poorer, stony ground (surprise, surprise!), providing a wine with much less obvious fruit; terms such as liquorice, earth, minerals and savoury come to mind. It too can soak up new oak, ‘but unlike The Stork, with this wine I have to be careful not to extract too much’, warns Schultz. He describes it as the more intellectual wine of the pair; it’s certainly a wine requiring contemplation and time too is needed for it to break out of its youthful cocoon. The 2000 (according to Schultz, a great vintage) is just beginning to drink beautifully, while the 2005 (another great year) will still benefit from considerably more time before it starts to show its true colours.

Costing R375 and R675 respectively, The Stork and Gravel Hill are not for everyday drinking, but for anyone who enjoys and respects authentic wines – real shiraz – they are worth the outlay and the maturation they deserve. The regular shiraz is more affordable – R130 for the current 2006, which received 4* in the latest Wine magazine Challenge – no less real and exceptionally satisfying.

Thank goodness such an abundance of riches was presented with dishes that did them all justice, their pleasures wouldn’t have been properly appreciated at a ‘taste and spit’ session, without food.

Take a bow, Stéphan Marais, chef at Societi Bistro (an undiscovered gem of a real bistro – or have I been snoozing?), who created four courses that not only matched each wine, but were so well balanced, there was no problem working one’s way right through the menu and the rich wines. I did note  Crispy duck leg, peas à la Francais with The Stork 2003 was ‘ not for sissys’, but then sailed through to Chocolate Nemesis Cake, Chai-spiced crème Anglaise with the regular and velvety Shiraz 2006!

As befits Carl Schultz’s long tenure and focused approach, the wines achieve an admirable level of consistency. When I mentioned the importance of consistency to Schultz, he sighed, saying, ‘Consumers chase fashion in wine as much as anything else; the producer to follow one year falls off the radar the next, as a new one becomes the winery of the moment.’

Are wine lovers really that crazy? Isn’t it about time that ‘it’s cool to be consistent’?