Just because it is science, does not mean I have to like it. Not that I can claim breaking into a sweat of hysteria and reaching for the gas-mask whenever the term Genetically Modified Organism (GMO) is mentioned.
If plants can be subjected to genetic variations that would rid the world of starvation without any detrimental long-term effects on the environment, go for it. I would support GMO if it really benefits mankind where there is a real need and where it can be proven the implementation of GMO is all positive and no negative.
The wine industry does, however, not fall into the category of an industry requiring GMO’s to improve the quality of life or the human race in general. And that is why I object to the University of Stellenbosch’s Institute for Wine Biotechnology’s plans to go ahead with experimental GMO vines in Stellenbosch.
The two issues at hand are necessity and the potential harm to the image of the South African wine industry.
With regards to issue one: why consider any genetic modification at any stage of the wine-making process? When the rumours of GMO dabbling by the Institute for Wine Biotechnology surfaced I called a few winemakers, most of whom told me that the only reason something like GMO vines would be considered was to eliminate virus’s and diseases. Think no leaf-roll and no mildew after those warm summer rains.
But, I ask with tears in my eyes, is it really worth playing God by means of genetic modification to make life on the wine farm a bit easier? When it comes to bearing the brunt of what nature throws at you, wine farmers have little to complain about when comparing their irritating bouts of mildew with a impoverished maize farmer in Ethiopia who has lost a total crop due to a hail-storm.
I have no formal – or any other – qualification in viticulture, but know that the vine must be one of the hardiest pieces of plant ever cultivated. If you need GMO’s to fix your vines, you are in the wrong business.
And, as little as we in the industry like to believe, the world is not going to starve if a global wine crop fails. Last time I looked, the tanks were pretty full, China!
The other reason I question the necessity of GMO in the wine industry is because this practise would destroy the fabric of wine’s diverse nature. This is the one aspect that makes wine intriguing, unique and worth pursuing: taste of place, specific style, taste of place.
Get the GMO ball rolling and you could theoretically create a Pinot Noir vine that will produce grapes of the same genetic make-up and style as those found in Beaune or at Hamilton Russell. This will enable winemakers to replicate specific wine styles and intrinsic from Koekenaap to Champagne; Devon to Dunedin.
Like Guinness stout or Coca Cola, you could just plonk down a winery to make any wine you want, anywhere in the world to a predetermined taste. Château Global, anyone?
(Of course, even global giants like McDonalds have banned the use of any GM products, anywhere, which should get one thinking: do global behemoths like McDonalds who are accountable to billions of consumers know something about the perceptions of GMO’s the wine industry doesn’t?)
My second reason for disagreeing with the GMO experiments in Stellenbosch is the short-sightedness of those responsible in failing to realise the damage this can have on the already shaky image of the South African wine industry.
Labour issues, farm conditions, rubber-tainted wines, the 2004 flavourant scandal…..all these are being used by our competitors in the global markets in attempts to shunt us aside. Throw in “SA wine industry looks to GMO’s” to this mix, and you’d have a brew to make a Macbeth witch puke in her cauldron.
The failure of those responsible to see this time-bomb is mind-boggling. Especially when looking at the one marketing tool the South African industry has been using to characterise our wines, namely biodiversity and nature. It is going to be very difficult to maintain the industry’s Variety is in our Nature campaign, with its commitment to the floral kingdom, birds, chameleons and other critters when you – the industry – are condoning a little bit of GMO experimentation.
The fact that the Institute for Wine Biotechnology also has the arrogance to perform its little experiment at Welgevallen, probably the most hallowed part of vineland real estate due to the role that it has played in the birth of the South African wine industry, also leaves an especially bitter taste.
I would like to end with a question to producers: would you ever like to see the words “Made from Genetically Modified Grapes” on your label?
Case closed.

It was not for the faint-hearted. But then again, I had never been to a ham launch before.
This is correct: a function to launch a piece of dead South African pig lovingly treated just as the Spanish do with serrano and the Wops (Italians) do with prosciutto.
I must admit, when I initially heard that a few locals were attempting to create serrano ham in our backyard, I was a bit sceptical. This product has always been spoken of in solemn tones of admiration, as if making a serrano or prosciutto could only be done in Europe, and preferably by men whose mothers sport striking facial hair and whose father’s smell of garlic and Brylcreem.
So about 60 people rocked up to Stellenbosch’s Café Dijon last week to find a huge guy with white hair called Jason Lucas standing next to a beautiful looking ham. “I think we should just drink to the ham,” said Jason, before he was encouraged to tell us about this product that he had made.
And it soon became obvious that Jason and his mates had not learnt the art of curing decent ham over the internet or in Jambon 101.
No. Spain had been visited to check out the techniques. After the right pigs had been procured in the Stellenbosch vicinity, the legs had been massaged by hand, salted and cured for 14 months in Prince Albert. Spanish consultants had paid Jason a visit to ensure he was not stuffing it up. “They said that ours was the best serrano-style hame they had tasted outside of Spain,” Jason told the audience, who were by now tucking into plates of the gorgeous pink, aromatic ham.
Demand had flown through the roof without any marketing or publicity. Charles Back from Fairview was demanding piles of the stuff, and at this stage there does not seem to be enough to go around.
Fortunately, those attending the launch were well plied. With Jason slicing away, platters were passed around. It was silky, soft, moist, sweet and bloody amazing. All washed down with some Pinot Noir and Grenache Jan Boland Coetzee had bought along for the occasion.
Joaquim Sa, a Portuguese gourmand, could not contain himself. “I want to buy a whole ham,” he told Jason. At R2 500 for a whole leg of cured pork, this was a steal. The imported stuff goes for R8 000, and the local quality is better.
Buckle-up. This local ham is going to be huge for South Africa.
Hoping to flush out the arteries, I waltzed to Balducci a few days later. Nothing like a rocket salad and some mineral water to bring one back to life.
As Borat says: “NAAAAT!”
Thys Louw was in town, still celebrating his spate of accolades for Diemersdal Shiraz and Bordeaux blends. And there’s nothing Thys likes more than getting some pizzas going.
Only, Balducci’s pizza oven had not seen anything like this before.
Fresh foie gras sliced. Pan-fried for a minute on each side. And then the slices were placed on pizza dough before a trip into the pizza oven.
Three, four minutes later you had a foie gras pizza: not tomato or cheese, dummy. Just the crisp dough topped with unctuous morsels of foie gras.
No, you don’t have any idea how good it was. Along with myself, table-mates Jonathan Steyn and Neil Pendock had eaten some pretty decadent things in our lives, but the foie gras pizza must surely be right up there with Roquefort cheese ice-cream and deep-fried calf brain. Do they do take-out, I wonder?

Here they are, folks. Wines which achieved 5 Stars in the Platter Sighted Wine Tasting Guide. (Take note of the pretentious Bordeaux style White Blend section.) And to all the PR agencies out there: we have all seen the winners, so inundating us with media releases on “delighted” and “thrilled” reactions from winemakers is totally unnecessary.)

White Wine of the Year
Sadie Family Palladius 2008

Red Wine of the Year
Le Riche Cabernet Sauvignon Reserve 2005

Sauvignon blanc
Fleur du Cap Sauvignon Blanc Unfiltered 2009
Lomond Pincushion Sauvignon Blanc 2009
Tokara Elgin Sauvignon Blanc 2008
Woolworths Cape Point Vineyards Sauvignon Blanc Limited Release 2009
Cape Point Vineyards CWG Auction Reserve Barrel Fermented Sauvignon Blanc 2008

White blends – Bordeaux style
Woolworths Steenberg Sauvignon Blanc-Semillon Reserve 2009
Cape Point Vineyards Isliedh 2008
The Berrio Wines The Weathergirl 2008
Vergelegen White 2008

Chenin blanc
Beaumont Hope Marguerite Chenin Blanc 2008

White blends
Nederburg Ingenuity White 2008
Rall 2008
Sadie Family Palladius 2008
Woolworths Tulbagh Mountain Vineyards Spectrum White Limited Release 2008

Chardonnay
Ataraxia Chardonnay 2008
Chamonix Chardonnay Reserve 2008
Paul Cluver Chardonnay 2008

Pinot noir
Newton Johnson Domaine Pinot Noir 2008
Catherine Marshall Pinot Noir 2008

Grenache
Neil Ellis Vineyard Selection Grenache 2007

Pinotage
Beyerskloof Diesel Pinotage 2007

Red blends
Sadie Family Columella 2006
Spier Frans K. Smit  2005

Shiraz
Dunstone Shiraz 2008
Haskell Vineyards Pillars Shiraz 2007
Rustenberg Stellenbosch Syrah
Saxenburg Shiraz Select Limited Release 2005

Red blends – Bordeaux style
De Trafford CWG Auction Reserve Perspective 2006
Kanonkop Paul Sauer 2006
Morgenster Estate Morgenster 2006
Stony Brook Ghost Gum 2006
Woolworths Jordan Cobblers Hill Classic 2005

Cabernet Sauvignon
Boekenhoutskloof Cabernet Sauvignon 2007
Le Riche Cabernet Sauvignon Reserve 2005

Port
Boplaas Vintage Reserve Port 2007
De Krans Cape Tawny Port NV
Boplaas Family Vineyards Cape Tawny Port 1997

Unfortified dessert wine
Buitenverwachting 1769 2007
Fleur du Cap Noble Late Harvest 2008
Nederburg Winemaster’s Reserve Noble Late Harvest 2008
Mullineux Family Straw Wine 2008

Chateau Haut Kop, anyone?

Restless natives may be embraced by the PC brigade, novelists and German sex tourists, but they can be such a damn hindrance.
Speaking to my wine retailer mate who runs a wine shop in Mill Hill, London, he said that it would appear as if South Africa’s image is currently being tarnished by a bit of aforementioned restless nativeness.
“When it comes to wine, you are dealing with a very personal product,” my mate said. “People are very sensitive towards the reputation of a wine’s country of origin. Last year a female vineyard worker died in a Californian vineyard due to heat exhaustion, and my sales of Napa dropped for six weeks. Eastern Europe is churning out some great stuff from Russia, Rumania and Estonia, but wine drinkers are not partial towards countries seemingly run by a bunch of oil grabbing Mafia and escord girls.”
So, what’s the deal with South Africa?
“Don’t you guys have Sky TV?” he tells me. “The other day we turned on the TV and saw a horde of people running through the streets of Cape Town smashing car windows and throwing rubbish everywhere. And if this is how things look in Cape Town, people are asking what the rest of the country looks like.
“Constant reports of trouble on the farms with labourers are also not doing you guys a lot of good. When taking customers to a shelf of South African wines, they are very keen to tell me things are not looking so good over there and that this affects their wine decisions.
“Look, I don’t have a psychological explanation for these customers views, but buying wine from Pierre the Red Nosed Frenchman riding a bicycle through a peaceful vineyard seems more appropriate than wine from a country where they throw fish heads in the street.”
Of course, we hope this changes during 2010, but even if they exude ignorance, opinions such as these cannot be ignored.

L’Epicerie 10 pl. St-Pierre, Avignon, France, 0033-4-90-82-74-22
The quest for “authentic” local cuisine is possibly one of the most frustrating, counter-productive and exhausting pursuits on which a tourist can embark. Extensive planning is often rewarded with massive disappointment: guidebooks can be as deceitful and corrupt as international sports administrators, while a meagre catch awaits anyone who is willing to trawl through the oceans of inanity posted on advertisement-infested internet sites.
Placing everything in the hands of fate, hoping that the invisible hand of the culinary gods will guide you to the ultimate regional dining experience is not a wise gambit either. There are only a few pointers, like avoiding establishments which a) display a big board with frayed photos of the food; b) solicit custom from the street through a fawning waiter who gushes about the specials “we have for you today”; and c) serve local specialities out of season (who in his right mind wants to eat cassoulet in Toulouse in the middle of summer?). But one trick seems to work better than most. Ask the hotel receptionist. They know the place, they know the food, and they know that a few hours later you will be back.
So, having adopted this strategy, I recently arrived for lunch at L’Epicerie, a Provençal restaurant situated on a quiet square outside the St. Pierre Church, next to the Palace of the Popes in Avignon. After a quick glance at the surrounding tables, I took my cue from the local patrons, and ordered a house speciality, the Assiette L’Epicerie, served with a carafe of rosé.
Picture a very large round white plate, covered in a bed of fresh lettuce, dressed in the lightest of vinaigrettes. On it, spread out with a meticulous sense of natural order reminiscent of the arrangements of spring flowers on Cambridge college gardens, the following could be found: vivid green, glistening marinated asparagus spears; a few slithers of subtly flavoured smoked ham; slices of toasted baguette topped with green and red tapenade; soft, warm goat’s cheese; quartered fresh mushrooms; a wedge of velvety smooth tian d’aubergines, a little puffy cylinder which looked like brioche, but had a light savoury- bacon flavour, and, in the middle, a little ramekin with a slice of bright red cocktail tomato floating in some baked cream.
It was the real deal. An adventure within an adventure. Let me proceed no further, and only say this: it was a culinary sensation so perfectly in harmony with its surroundings that, for once, and perhaps not entirely unsurprisingly, one felt very close to heaven.
JP Bruwer

Dear Roelof
It was great talking to you and the other students from the Stellenbosch Wine Society last week. I was amazed to see that your Society has over 400 members! And your commitment to learning more about the industry through field (vineyard) trips, reading and holding exhaustive tastings sure dispels any opinions we old squirts may foster as to students being a bunch of piss cats!
But I really am sorry that I could not answer your queries with regards to who runs the South African wine industry.
We had reached this question when you and some of your mates asked me how the industry is gearing itself to utilize the enormous opportunities of World Cup 2010.
The unfortunate answer is that whilst there is a lot of talking going on as to what these opportunities may be, there are not many practical strategies in place to make use of these opportunities. You mentioned a project where one of the industry bodies is training wine stewards to tell 2010 visitors that shiraz is like a big strong rhinoceros and that sauvignon blanc is a fresh and vigorous as a splash from the Victoria Falls.
And I agree, this is cute.
But the question remains: A cumulative television audience of nine billion will be seeing South African during one month. Over 500 000 visitors will set foot on our shores for the same period.
Who is co-ordinating a selective strategy to ensure that during all the hype and all the focus on South Africa, the wine industry is going to raise its hand and ensure it gets its share of the attention, something we need very much? Africa’s ability to make wine and grow grapes is not a well-known fact, and 2010 can see us change this perception.
Unfortunately there is not a strategy nor an industry body tasked with addressing this. I don’t know if this is because of a lack of interest of funds or just plain South African thick-skinned stupidity, but with nine months to go it seems that the Big Game Hunting Association of South Africa and the mountain bike groups are far ahead of the wine industry in latching up to the aforementioned opportunities.
Not that members of the industry do not see the need for leadership and guidance in the wine industry’s relationship with 2010. I am inundated by wineries and tourism bodies with the following questions:
- What are the legal parameters in terms of branding our tasting rooms during 2010?
- Who is liaising with the tourism bodies at local and national level to ensure that the teams of electronic and print media visiting South Africa on a weekly basis are directed towards the wine industry as a major tourism attraction?
- Why is no-one informing the wine industry which areas within the winelands have been identified as base camps where teams participating in the World Cup Tournament will be based for the duration of the tournament? This will allow the relevant locations to embark on a wine tourism specific strategy as to how to handle the thousands of fans and media who will be based in these wineland locations for the duration of the tournament.
- Who is going to run a proactive Wine South Africa communication and marketing strategy in tandem with 2010?
- Is there a body or organisation who can brief wineries – from Cape Point to Kakamas; Darling to the Langkloof as to how to cope with the influx of visitors and ensure that a standard of service levels are in place of which the industry can be proud?

Sorry, Boet, I just don’t know. Yes, there are a number of industry bodies who should be looking into these and other issues. I know they should be because their member wineries are knocking on doors looking for assistance!
Unfortunately the industry’s powers that be do not seem to realise the importance of galvanising itself to exploit the tremendous once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that awaits. Actually, it has already begun.
Be glad that you are still at university and do not have to be part of this complacency. Hopefully you and your fellow wine fanatics can learn from this balls-up we outoppies are responsible for and change the general way the wine industry is doing things.
Kind regards
Coach

Meerendal Wine Estate in the Durbanville Wine Valley celebrated the 350 years of South African wine by planting a historic vineyard today. It is 350 years since Jan van Riebeeck made the first wine at the Cape on 2nd February 1659. Meerendal was founded in 1702 and was one of the first wine farms in the Tygerberg that would become Durbanville later. Meerendal was also one of the first 14 farms to be granted Wine Estate status in 1973 when the Wine of Origin Legislation was introduced. A special site with virgin soil was selected for this new vineyard. It lies next to the Pinotage Heritage Block vineyard and the soil has a soft, loamy texture with some clay. Three hundred and fifty vines have been planted to pay homage to the 350 years of SA Wine. The vines that have been planted have a unique origin. Meerendal was one of the first farms to plant Pinotage in the early 1950’s. One vineyard that was planted in 1955 has remained intact and these bush vines produce the grapes for the single vineyard wine called the Heritage Block Pinotage. It was decided to use this vineyard as the source of material for the 350 vineyard as the vines came from the original stock of Prof Perold, the father of Pinotage that was supplied to the wine farmers then. In this way Meerendal is continuing the historic link with the origin of Pinotage and ensuring that the original planting material here is preserved for the future. In June 2008 cuttings from these bush vines were taken to Cape Vines Nursery that grafted them on to Paulsen root stock, ready for planting this year. The guests that attended included representatives of the famous Pinotage farms of the 1950’s – Bellevue, Kanonkop and Uiterwyk – wine writers, Cape Wine Masters, the Pinotage Association, other industry leaders, all the winemakers of the Durbanville Wine Valley, the present owners and staff of Meerendal, children of the Starke family that previously owned Meerendal for 75 years and invited guests. The guests could select their vines from the table that was set up in the new vineyard and proceed to the holes that were prepared. After the planting ceremony each guest signed a special scroll that will be displayed in the tasting room at Meerendal. The first wine will be made in 2012 and the few barrels made from the 350 vines will be kept separately and bottled as a reserve wine. Meerendal is proud to continue its commitment to the South African wine industry through this project and to the rich heritage of Pinotage that this estate has since the first release of a bottled Meerendal Pinotage in 1969.

The past decade or two has seen the KWV ringing in the changes, too many to mention in this whimsical blog. The KWV has always been a favourite target for Pinko wine commentators when requiring a scape-goat to refer to the bad old days when Apartheid and the Dop-system were as much a feature of the wine industry as Roodeberg and the Broederbond blend.
The KWV’s political baggage has never concerned me, nor the recent drive to position it as a go-getting international company purely concerned with making good wine and a profit. (Which of the two is more likely, is anyone’s guess.)
However, in the field of communication the current renaissance at La Concorde (KWV’s head-office) is ironical. Currently the KWV’s communication department reminds one of the gruff monosyllabic strategies employed by grey shoed State Bodies of the past. Whereas in the 1980’s, before the advent of Château Mandela Freedom, the KWV had a proactive, lively and energetic communications department – far removed from the terse and backward way it does PR in 2009.
Those who remember the late Chris Swanepoel, as well as the way Arnold Kirkby and Cassie du Plessis handled communications can attest to this.
My first fault is the way queries are dealt with.
I recently made queries re the KWV’s consultant wine-advisers as well as to the very important relationship between the SA Wine Industry Trust and the Phetogo empowerment group, the latter making up just over of KWV shareholding.
Well, contacting the KWV’s communications honcho was like asking a nun to show you her G-string. Cold, terse, icy and evasive response.
One thing she did succeed in was getting me to not bother contacting the KWV in future.
Okay. So attitude and strategy sucks.
Then we get stupidity.
Just this week I received a bottle of the KWV’s very drinkable Café Culture Pinotage. This is the number with the seductive hint of mocha, an very good drink indeed. I pulled the cork and sipped with gusto.
On Friday, however, I bump into a KWV media release about its new lifestyle range of wines. According to the brand manager, this range is sealed with a screwcap because “15%” of wine is affected by cork taint.
So how is this for stupid? KWV produces a wine – Café Culture – as well as other ranges in cork, whilst being under the impression that 15% of these wines could be spoilt?
Of course, the 15% of wines affected by cork taint is complete bullshit, and this brand manager should do better homework.
But those allowing media releases to be distributed with incorrect facts which could harm other ranges under the own brand, need a refresher course in PR 101.

Cooked sheep's head.

There is a magical culinary landscape, slap-bang in the heart of South Africa. This is the Karoo. Here the hospitable people are great cooks and hearty eaters. And the sheep which dot the empty landscape, well, the sheep they are afraid.
 Very afraid.
 Mutton is the staple foodstuff for inhabitants of the Karoo. Okay, so the desert-like terrain may not be all that conducive to the cultivation of organic cucumbers and rosa tomatoes, but this is beside the point. The folk from the Karoo eat a sheep from head to tail. Literally.
Think I’m kidding. Check-out the arty photo’s adorning these pages. And follow this recipe to culinary Nirvana.
Right. The first thing that is required is an inhabitant of the Karoo to teach you how to cook and eat real mutton delicacies. These are normally weird body parts that would send anyone working at a Shoprite-Checkers meat counter into a seizure should you request them for your table.�
 I found a Karoo lady on the wine farm Muratie outside Stellenbosch. Her name is Annatjie Melck who was raised in the Karoo. Also being known as a cook of note, I asked Tannie Annatjie to teach me to cook and to enjoy that noble of all mutton delicacies, namely the sheep’s head.
The first thing Tannie Annatjie told me, was that a sheep’s head is like a duck. (The folk from the Karoo have a way with words, but this is ridiculous.) No, she, said. “By this I mean that, like a duck, one sheep’s head provides more than enough food for one person, but too little for two people.”
 So keep that in mind.
 The next step is to get hold of a sheep’s head, something a sheep is known to object to. But a sympathetic butcher will help you out. And if the butcher knows his stuff, will wash the head and shave it. Yes – shave, because you want to eat the thing without the wool. This shaving is, doll, done with a real Minora blade – not the hair removal cream woman tend to use on their legs.
In any event. You have your head, severed, cleaned and shaven. It should be grey and pasty in colour, kind of like the same hue as the dork who did too much studying at school and never got out much.
 This head, Tannie Annatjie shows me, needs something. A body might do, but no. It’s got to be smeared with some sheep’s fat. If you can’t get hold of this, I’d say you can use pork fat or oil. So go on. Smear the thing with the greasy, oily stuff – over the ears, the cute snout, the dull eyes and those chubby cheeks. Feel the flesh beneath your fingers. This is reality eating.
 Whoops – almost forgot. Decent Karoo folk like Tannie Annatjie are not just going to chuck the head into the oven to bake. This would be barbaric!
 No way, Japie. We are going to rip the stomach out of a sheep. The stomach is a piece of fatty tissue resembling a tea towel in a Hillbrow flat, just not quite as dirty. Thus, you have to wash and scrub the stomach until it is a clean, grey strip. Now, wrap your head – that would be the sheep’s head – with the stomach so the head and stomach form a harmonious parcel, the likes of which you are just dying to leave under the bed of that vegetarian whimp next door who keeps burning incense and listening to Bob Dylan.
Restrain yourself! Join the loose strips of stomach with toothpicks. See, very civilized. No bulging eyes or woeful grin.
Now you give your parcel another going-over with the fat or oil. Place the head in a oven baking bag. Plonk it in your oven, which has been pre-heated to 150C°. And bake for four to six hours.
 If you thought the preparation was fun, wait for the eating part.
 Tannie Annatjie says that your sheep’s head should be eaten at room temperature. There is a lot of fat and grease in the head, and if the dish is hot it is extremely rich.
 So far, so good.
 For the next couple of steps you require a sharp knife, but begin with a saw.
Keeping the head in its golden brown stomach casing, saw the back of the head open removing a golf ball size piece of skull. Peering into the hole, you will be met with a pat of grey matter. This is the brain. Being a sheep, the brain is not very big and has never been used much. It is, however, melt-in-the-mouth stuff. Stick a spoon inside the head and scrape out every last morsel of brain.
 Next, cut away the jaws and tear them apart so the head splits in two. This is where the good stuff is.
First there is the roof of the mouth, also known as a scorpion. On the other jaw lies the tongue. Remove this tongue and cut into slices. The best meat, however, is found on the linings of the jaws and on the cheekbones. On a perfectly baked sheep’s head, this meat will separate easily from the bones.
The only part not eaten, is the snout as things are known to get ugly inside those nostrils. And if the folk from the Karoo say it gets ugly, well, just listen to them OK?
 So what does it taste like?
Man, oh man. The jaw flesh is the tenderest of meat. The brain and eyes are like marrow. The tongue is firm to the touch, yet full of satisfying flavours. The list goes on and on.
T he meat is eaten as is, but I enjoy giving it some zip with a squish of lemon.

OFFAL
Offal is all the bits not found in your cosy little supermarket. This includes the head, stomach and trotters of the sheep. Some butcheries sell all this stuff in one parcel, and it is a joy to cook and eat.
Let me show you how.
 Soak the stomach, head – which will have been halved – and the trotters in some cold water for about an hour. Pour off the water and rinse the offal until the water runs clear.
 Cut the stomach into manageable strips. Place all these lovely meatsheadstomach, trotters – into a large pot which you are heating to a low temperature. Add two to four cups of water. And half a sheep’s neck or a couple of mutton chops. When the water starts simmering slowly and gracefully you have reached the correct temperature. Now add: half a cup of vinegar, two bayleaves, a teaspoon of salt and four cloves. Cover the pot and cook slowly. I mean, slowly. For at least six hours, but I go for up to eight hours.
 After this lengthy cooking, something magical has happened. The meat has cooked to buttery tenderness. The meat has loosened from all the bones, which you must now remove. What you are left with is a bowl of rich goodness, a medley of terrific flavours. Add three peeled and quartered potatoes. Cook until the potatoes are soft.
 You could also stir-in a tablespoon of mild curry powder halfway through the process to give it a great colour and a light spicy flavour.
Eat with rice and brown bread.
The animal died for a noble cause. You, my friend, are king of the beasts.
* Great wine with tripe? Unwooded Chardonnay or a Semillon.

Ntsiki in untraditional wine-making garb.

The subject of a Woman Winemaker Competition provides annual amusement in wine circles. Just as soon as the competition is announced, certain commentators berate the fact that such a competition exists. Sexist and chauvinist are two of the labels plastered to the event, implying that there is no need to distinguish between a winemaker who has a set of hooters and one with brass balls.
The moaners, usually hairy-armpitted dykes, ugly housewife bloggers or over-critical queens, never tend to look at competitions like SA Businesswomen of the Year or the International Woman Winemaker of the Year. No, because it is held in our backyard it is deemed irrelevant and divisive.
“Get a life!” one wants so say. The Woman Winemaker Competition is little more than a bit of much needed marketing for those involved in the industry. It does a sterling job in drawing attention to the fact that the wine industry is – more than any other agricultural pursuit in South Africa – frequented by an array of sassy women, including quite a few babes.
The competition also draws attention to the respective entrants’ enduring passion for wine, something that always needs punting.
Take this year’s winner, Ntsiki Biyela from Stellekaya.
From clay hut in Ulundi without running water to top-notch Stellenbosch winemaker. I would like to see another wine industry that can deliver someone with this pedigree.

Okay, now to Nicolette’s media release:
�
Ntsiki Biyela form Stellekaya in Stellenbosch was crowned SA Woman Winemaker of the Year in Somerset West at the Lord Charles Hotel last week.  Ntsiki beat 64 wine entries, from 28 woman winemakers across South Africa in this year’s competition, which is sponsored by Landbouweekblad, the country’s leading agriculture and agri-business publication.  The competition took place for the sixth time this year.
Nontsikelelo, or Ntsiki as she is fondly known, was born and raised in Kwa-Zulu Natal.  She matriculated from Mahlabathini High School in 1996 where she excelled in science.  She had high hopes to study engineering, but had no money to study full time.  Not detoured and determined to save money to pay for her studies, she started off working as a domestic worker.  Coincidently her uncle introduced her to winemaker Jabulani Ntshangase, and he assisted Ntsiki to apply for a SAA scholarship, and she was chosen as one of ten black students to pursue a bursary program to study winemaking at Stellenbosch.�
In 2003 Ntsiki graduated with a Bachelor of Science degree in Agriculture, specialising in Viticulture and Oenology, at the University of Stellenbosch.  Ntsiki started working at Stellekaya in 2004, and also boasts a vintage in Bordeaux, as well as extensive travels abroad for wine promotions.  She is fluent in Zulu, English, Afrikaans and Xhosa, and is determined to spread the magic of wine enjoyment across cultures and language barriers.�
Ntsiki wowed the judges with her 2006 Cabernet Sauvignon.  When asked when she knew winemaking was her career of choice, she said: “I grew up in Zululand, so wine was not exactly part of my culture.  Studying at Stellenbosch, and being exposed to wine regularly, I could not help falling in love with wine and the winemaking process.  It all started to make sense to me when I did some practical work, including tastings at Delheim.  I then just knew that I was hooked.  Although a technical career, winemaking has an artistic side.  I could never become bored of it, every vintage is different.”
Besides making the wine at Stellekaya, Ntsiki is also responsible for selecting individual vineyards and growers in Stellenbosch and ensures that each grower crops and hand picks the grapes to her exact standards.�
“Being involved from the beginning, and selecting the perfect grapes for a particular wine, deciding on oak treatment, and all the other elements to ensure we create a product worthy of the Stellekaya brand, forces me to think of every wine that I make as one of my children and it is my job to raise and guide that child, before I can let it go out to conquer the world.
“As one of the first black woman winemakers in South Africa, I want to be remembered for my wines and not me as a person, but I do not mind being a role model for other people.  I want to communicate that with hard work and determination you can achieve anything.”
According to Marilyn Cooper, head of the Cape Wine Academy and president of the judging panel, Ntsiki sparkled.  “Not only did she impress us with her well made Cabernet Sauvignon, but she is confident and passionate about the wine industry, eager to share her knowledge and passion with others.  She’s not only an inspiration for future woman winemakers, but anyone who is considering winemaking as a career.”