When the word hit the street that a bottle of Pinotage with a R1 000 price-tag was about to be released, reaction in my circles was unanimous: Only Kanonkop could justify such a price.

And so it was, with Kanonkop Estate this week releasing its first new label in almost 40 years, namely the Black Lable Pinotage 2006. This is a limited release wine made from vines planted on the Kanonkop Estate in 1953 and is aimed at the premium, exclusive wine market. Of a total production of 1 178 bottles, 1000 bottles were placed on the market at a price of R1 000 per bottle – exclusively sold through the Wade Bales Wine Society and Fiona Phillips from cybercellar.com.

I dared share this news with the famous John Maytham, the talk-show host, wine expert, supreme ornithologist, literary commentator and general knowledge boffin. Obviously also being a talented speaker of Afrikaans, Maytham replied that paying a grand for a bottle of Pinotage was all “sinne beroof gebied” (an area inhabited by people who have been robbed of their senses.)

But hey! Scarcely two hours after the R1000 Kanonkop had been displayed on the websites of Wade Bales and Fiona Phillips, the first allocated tranche of 600 bottles was sold out.

Conveying this news to Maytham he stated: “Quite clearly there are people with more money than sense. If I had a R1000 to spend on a single bottle of wine, it certainly wouldn’t be this.”

Take note the knee-jerk reaction of homo sapiens vinus hackus – making a statement without tasting the wine. To us in the industry the funniest is, of course, the fact that Maytham knocks Pinotage, but in his spare time he is paid by the Pinotage Association for MC-ing the Association’s 2009 Absa Top 10 Competition!

But back to the reason behind the launch.  “This wine is a highlight in Kanonkop’s history since the release of our first label in 1973,” says Johann Krige, co-owner of Kanonkop. “With the Kanonkop Black Label Pinotage we want to make an international statement through a uniquely South African wine. We would like to see this wine become a benchmark the South African wine industry can use to prove that as a country we are capable of making a wine that can compete with the best in the world.”

The wine is also a tribute to Kanonkop’s formidable reputation for Pinotage.

 “Pinotage has been an integral of the Kanonkop portfolio since our maiden vintage. Throughout the years our winemakers have been enthralled with the quality of the grapes from our oldest Pinotage vines, the wine of which is usually blended in the standard Kanonkop Pinotage,” says Krige.

“Five years ago we decided to separate the select old-vine crop, vinifying and aging the wine separately. The results after 14 to 16 months of aging in new French oak has been phenomenal. On consultation from other wine makers and various retailers, we are convinced that this wine demands its own label and warrants marketing to select buyers of fine wine – locally and internationally.

With only 1 000 bottles available, Krige underscored the importance of the Kanonkop Black Label Pinotage in assisting in creating a secondary wine market in South Africa.

“The first allocation to our two negociants will be 600 bottles, with the next tranche of 400 bottles released a few months later once the market has determined the value of the wines,” says Krige. “With two negociants controlling the supply and demand they will be able to buy back stock from willing sellers to sell on to parties willing to pay a higher price.

“This secondary market, which the South African wine industry needs more of so as to establish itself as a producer of really premium wines, will open up a totally new set of dynamics in the wine industry, as well as creating an appreciation for and collectability of fine local wines.”

The second vintage of the Kanonkop Black Label Pinotage, the 2007, will be released towards the end of 2010. “Having created a secondary market for this wine, the objective is to have a genuine en primeur system in place by 2012 whereby followers and other interested consumers will be able to buy the wine after tasting it while still in barrel and before bottling – just as the system in Bordeaux,” says Krige.

Putting his money where his mouth is, Krige put on a tasting of some of Kanonkop’s top Pinotages throughout the past three decades, ending the last flight with the 2006 Black Label.

It was apparent that this wine is on a different level to any Pinotage Kanonkop has ever produced, and perhaps matching the Estate’s Paul Sauer 1998 in overall greatness. Dark as ox blood, the wine has a nose of sluttish extravagance: violets, brambles, fynbos and just-rained-on tar. The intoxicating nose is followed by a deeply moving taste – forest floor with hints of truffle leading to finely tuned black fruit and cigar box. The wine lies in your mouth like a Jim Morrison song – heavy, sensual, dramatic. A perfect balance of tannin and acid gives the wine a life-affirming freshness, with a very impressive seamlessness.

If any wine is worth a grand, this is it.

There is a cynical adage stating “if it looks and sounds too good to be true, it probably is”. Whilst certainly applicable to ponzi schemes and time-share agents, there are exceptions. Zimbabwean author Alexandra Fuller writes like Hemingway and looks like a runway model. Former French rugby captain Fabien Pelous would rip a whole opposing scrum apart and afterwards still discuss St Emilion vintages from the 1960’s to 1980’s in French and English.

Everything about Waterford Estate in the Helderberg sounds and looks too good to be true. The hacienda like entrance, leading you onto a square where models and other good-looking types leisurely sit around on ample leather chairs sipping wine or coffee looking as if they were extras on the set of a Roland Joffe movie.

The Waterford staff exude an air of politeness that one expects to find in airy old clubs off Knightsbridge. Walking into the tasting room, they actually look glad to see you – not out of desperation, of course, as this is one of the most popular estates in the country. But they greet you as though you’d walked across the Sahara to be there. What can we get you – water (still or sparkling), coffee, some wine-tasting, perhaps?

Then there are the wine-makers, Kevin Arnold and his lieutenant Francois Haasbroek. Kevin, who commandeered the Waterford project making it cash-positive in six years, is to South African wine-making what Morné du Plessis was to South African rugby. Easy-going, likeable and terrifically skilled at what he does, Kevin would be a shoe-in for the position of South African wine ambassador if ever there was one.

Haasbroek is a Kevin on steroids. Probably one of the most passionate blokes in the South African wine industry, Haasbroek’s physical energy in the winery is matched by the amount of grey matter he has floating around in that chiselled head of his. Want to know why Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children is the greatest book of all time or need a dissertation on Stellenbosch vintage variations in the 1990’s? Haasbroek is your guy. Need to know how to cook pigeon in the Alsatian style? Call Haasbroek.

Having people like this around is good. Call me bias and short-sighted, but if Kevin and Haasbroek are involved in a wine cellar, there ain’t going to be nothing but good wine coming out of that joint.

I do not seem to be the only one: Waterford’s wines are found on over 70% of the country’s wine-lists. Personally I can’t think of another South African wine brand which has established itself so firmly in the mind of the consumer, retailer and restaurateur in the past ten years as Waterford. It has to be the South African brand of the Millennium thus far.

During a recent visit to Waterford, Kevin hauled me onto a Land Rover to join farm’s latest tourism experience – a wine drive. The Land Rover has been refurbished to accommodate eight people on a drive around the 120ha farm, which has far more rugged country than the manicured lawns and pruned orange trees at the entrance would suggest.

A dip to the north brings one to the Chardonnay vineyards where, lo and behold, the car pulled over at a table next to a dam where wine was poured. We were given the run-down on the Waterford Sauvignon Blanc and Chardonnay, both 2008 and particularly enjoyable.

The Sauvignon Blanc was firm and ballsy, without any flashy pyrazines or zingy acids and had developed beautifully with a bit of bottle aging. Pure class. The Chardonnay was what might be described in poetic Afrikaans as a “koekhou”.

Ever so subtly wooded, the wine was clean, mineral with a hint of typical Chardonnay sunniness verging on the tropical.

The steeper slopes of the Helderberg’s south-western side were negotiated, with Table Mountain and Constantia Neck now visible in the distance. “No other wine region in the world is like this,” says Kevin. “Nowhere do you find the maritime influence combining with a mountain range to form such a unique terroir for wine-farming.”

It is a truly spectacular view, once again reminding one that when it comes to aesthetically pleasing wine-lands, South Africa kicks butt from Chile to Chablis.

Next to a Cabernet vineyard, three more wines were poured: Waterford Cabernet Sauvignon, Kevin Arnold Shiraz and The Jem, the Estate’s premium blend consisting of eight varieties.

The Cabernet made my day. It is not as silkily seductive as the Shiraz or The Jem, but has a serious irony, fynbos whack which is almost as dramatic as the view from where it was sipped.

Back at Waterford HQ, a film-crew was busy shooting an advertisement, not an uncommon occurrence. Upon closer inspection, I noticed the advertisement was for Pedra Negra wines from Argentina.

The irony of choosing a South African wine estate as a back-drop for an advertisement promoting a leading Argentinian wine brand says all that can be said about Waterford. Good, and true.

Members of the Wine Swines Wine Club know that opting not to attend one of the monthly tastings rates as big a crime as suggesting that a female be allowed to join this old and hallowed wine club. Friday past, however, I did a runner when an invitation came around for lunch and wine from Paul Cluver jnr.

Why opt out of Swines? Because a leisurely afternoon at the Cluvers joint in Elgin is one of the South African wine scene’s more civilised offerings and always leaves me with a tremendous feeling of appreciation and gratitude to be involved in the wine industry.

The reason for being invited to the Cluvers was to check out the 2009 Sauvignon Blanc and assist in consuming some of the fresh crayfish that have been pestering divers and netters off the Overberg coast of late.

Now, pioneering Elgin estate Paul Cluver has always made wines that are hard not to like. Most educated palates currently raving about South Africa’s cool climate wines were initiated to said characteristics by Paul Cluver’s Sauvignon Blancs from the 1990’s. This cool climate Sauvignon Blanc obsession also led to the creation of an (incorrect) South African perception that good Sauvignon Blanc and a cool site were as inseparable as Pamela Anderson and her plastic surgeon. But that Cluver has showed it works at Elgin, is non-negotiable.

Those partaking in the joys of Paul Cluver also soon discovered that things in Elgin were not going to be limited to Sauvignon Blanc. Pinot Noir quickly became a revered addition to the portfolio, where winemaker Andries Burger set about making elegantly clean and finely fruited Pinots with an almost cheeky confidence and undoubted skill. Andries’s penchant for all things Burgundian – shared with brother-in-law Paul Cluver jnr – has also resulted in local and international accolades for the Paul Cluver Chardonnay.

With the recent interest in varieties of Germanic origin, Weisser Riesling and Gewürztraminer from Cluver have gained an added following. The Paul Cluver Gewürztraminer 2009 is a current personal favourite, and if there is a vinous term for the poncy gastronomic word “umami”, the this wine has got it. The floral freshness is complemented with a limey zing and zippy mouth-feel making it very hard not to finish off a bottle by yourself, something I have been doing quite regularly of late.

All five aforementioned varieties were on show during this crayfish lunch on Cluver Estate where Paul jnr, and Burger had gathered a few wine hacks in a kind of “let’s see where we are going” exercise. This was – praise be to God – no horizontal line-up with explanations and lyrically waxed philosophies. The wines were brought out during an al fresco meal, and in between a few chirps, stories and jokes we drinkers were given the opportunity for deciding ourselves.

Is there a common characteristic in the Cluver portfolio?

My money is on spot-on expression of varietal character. I have always been convinced that a good wine is one where its identity is revealed in an upfront, cleanly confident manner. This all Cluver’s wines do.

The Sauvignon Blanc 2009 does not jump out flashy pyrazine pyrotechnics, but has an austere depth with the accent on clean mineral flavours and a hint of green fig. The Chardonnay 2008 is subtly wooded with a lot of clean fruit, but none of the overtly sticky botrytis syrup many South African Chardonnays show to tone down any potential showy oak.

Another characteristic of Cluver wines is a meticulous clean clarity that is overall quite gorgeous.

Together with some Weisser Riesling, including the Close Encounter (8% alc; over 40gm residual sugar), Burger’s crayfish were going down very nicely indeed. Andries grilled them on hot coals, with a hint of sweet chilli and things were good. The boy can cook on a fire, that’s for sure.

Despite the great time and good wine, I was missing my fellow Wine Swines immensely, but Paul jnr soon helped me out. A whole Serrano-styled, air-cured ham, made on neighbouring Oak Valley, was brought out and Paul jnr set about creating wafer-thin slices of pig meat.

By now we were on the Pinot Noirs, including the grand 7 Flags made from specially selected vines and given the full Monty in the cellar.

The ham was superb, but it was too harsh for the sensitive sensibilities of the silky 7 Flags. The sweet-salt-meat-fat flavours were, however, terrifically complemented by the standard Paul Cluver Pinot Noir 2007.

Unfortunately for Cluver, the combination was such that myself and wine-writing machine Neil Pendock had consumed about half the whole ham before Paul had a chance of putting it back in its resting place.

I think it was Walt Whitman who sang the praises of men who were “big, hairy and good feeders”.

We sure are glad to oblige.

Walt, a good feeder who never got to the Cluvers.

Two famous Italian dishes.

South African novelist, journalist and social commentator Jaco Kirsten  reflects on Italian cuisine after one of his visits to the country of Ferrari, babes and garlic breath.

To understand Italian food you have to understand Italian cars. And there’s not a lot to understand, really, because they’re all shit. Total rubbish. From a Fiat Palio to a Ferrari 360 Modena – and all the hideously unreliable Alfa Romeos in between. A while ago we were driving back from a delightful lunch at Franschhoek when two supercars, a Porsche 911 GT3 and a Ferrari F50 overtook us. “Ferrari’s are nice to see and to hear,” I said to my wife, just as the juvenile-looking driver changed down a gear and extracted a glorious wail from its engine, “but they tend to be terribly unreliable.” Less than 10 kilometres later we overtook the stranded red car, its gearbox having just joined the choir invisible.

          Mention the concept of Italian food in most conversations and the instinctive feedback, like the default setting of a Korean microwave oven, is positive. Same with Italian cars. “Ooh, they’re stylish you know.” Well, maybe if you live in Boksburg, where chunky gold jewellery is considered aspirational and Joost van der Westhuizen’s long-suffering wife Amore (with the ironically Italian surname Vittone) is considered to be a role model of some sorts. Where young Italian, Portuguese and Greek – who, if we’re brutally honest, aren’t Greek at all but, in fact, Cypriot – men all receive a chrome-plated 9mm pistol and a BMW 3-Series for their 21^st birthday. But even they have wizened up to the total unreliability of Italian cars. So the only people driving Italian cars are suckers from other places.

          For us repressed, white Anglo-Saxon and Calvinist South Africans there’s a bit of exotica associated with things Italian. Just enough to make the juices flow understand, but not too much to expose one’s lack of rhythm. It’s sexy, with a hint of uninhibited rewards, without risking it all for full-blown jungle fever.

          The inside of all Italian cars are identical. The plastic has the consistency of a vinyl record and the tactile sensation of a kitchen top. Switches self destruct after 2 weeks and you are lucky if the electrics work when you buy the bloody car.

          But they do have one or two redeeming features. Generally the engines have a nice sound and the outside appearances are pleasing to the eye. So they’re nice to observe from a distance. Much like Italian food.

          Most people who swoon about Italian food have never been to Italy and are devout followers of the lithping young Englithman called Jamie Oliver. Yes, he proclaims to love Italian food, but if you come from England anything you come across is bound to impress you, even boiled roof tiles.

          I have been to Italy numerous times. I have avoided falling into the canals of Venice. I have marvelled at the incredibly tacky gold jewellery at the Ponte Vecchio in Florence. Scratched my head at the incomprehensibility of public transport in Rome and almost had to defend myself with physical violence against African immigrant “street vendors” in the heart of Milan, shortly after subjecting myself to the Mussolini-like arrogance of the blokes who man the information kiosks at the metro railway stations.

          You see, just like the nicest Englishmen are expats, the nicest Italian food is to be found outside of Italy. In Italy they honestly don’t give a toss. Want to order a pizza with speck like the one on the menu? Well, screw you. We’re only giving you one with a teaspoon full of tomato paste and a few scraps of cheese. Looking for salt and pepper at your table? Who the fuck are you?!

In South Africa one has started to get used to the idea of olive oil and balsamic vinegar on tables. I used to think that this was a sophisticated “Italian thing”. I was wrong. Not once have I ever seen it on a table in Italy. I suspect it was the brainchild of a Portuguese restaurant owner from the east of Joburg who reinvented himself as “Italian” after lying low for six months and selling the concept to the themed restaurants at Monte Casino in Gauteng.

          Want to order risotto on the banks of Lake Como? Well, don’t expect anything out of the ordinary. I’ve had far superior risotto in Cape Town. Not to mention in my own kitchen – which is a rather serious indictment of Italian food if you take into account the fact that I’m usually fairly intoxicated when cooking.

          If you eat out in Italy you would no doubt also have had the misfortune of getting to know the exploitative practice of copperto. Basically it is a shady “cover charge” for the privilege of being able to use their table, clean table cloth and cutlery. In a smallish town, a figure of about €4 or roughly R45 is the going rate. It could be a Mafia-type tax, I don’t know.

          What I do know is that the eating experience in Italy is totally overrated. Sure, unlike Indian cuisine it won’t hurt you or make you shit your lungs out, but you can’t exactly accuse it of being rewarding or good value for money. Will eat Italian food again? Absolutely. Just as long as it’s not made by an Italian.

Jaco Kirsten, left, after burying an Italian chef in the Kalahari Desert.

IS TIGER WOODS  in South Africa? Or more specifically, is the swinging philanderer in Stellenbosch? In an article in Die Burger earlier this week, sources close to Woods says he had left the media glare in America and headed off to a “friend’s estate” in Africa. As far as estate’s go, one has to seriously doubt whether Tiger is chumming it up on a sugar estate in Tanzania or a coffee estate in Kenya.

A wine estate is more likely, especially if one remembers that golfer Ernie Els and golf-sponsor/fan/adviser Johann Rupert both have such estates in the Cape. Reinforcing this rumour was Dinkle Verwey, a Stellenbosch student who waitrons at a quiet eatery off Plein Street.

“I am sure it could have been Tiger Woods sitting in the corner the other day eating a muffin and drinking rooibos tea,” Dinkle said. “He had a cap on his head and was wearing a T-shirt that read ’14 Down, More to Go’, but at first I did not think it could be him. But when he looked up at me to ask for the bill, there was something about him. At first I thought he was just a normal Cape Coloured as his lips were big. But then I saw his eyes, which were a bit skew. I Googled when I got home, and yes, I am sure it was him. He paid cash, so I did not get chance to see his credit card.”

Whatever, expect a lot of paparazzi and tabloid snoopers around the wine-lands. And if your daughter looks like a Las Vegas cocktail waitress, keep her locked up.

                                                                                                                                                                    – Jan Rap

Being snowed in at Edinburgh International Airport over New Year is not all that much fun. Not only did I get head-butted by a Scottish waiter at a make-shift diner for telling him his haggis was cold, but I missed the connecting flights to summery Cape Town.

Whilst chatting up and attractive Eastern Europe lady who I had ascertained was not a porn star, stripper or toilet cleaner, she told me she had inherited her grandmother’s powers of reading the future. I therefore hastily asked her to focus onto the South African wine industry. She closed her eyes, flicked one of her glittering golden earrings and gave the following predictions for 2010:

• The popularity of wines with expressive flavours and garish labels will continue to increase in the South African market. Popular Coffee Pinotages such as Café Culture have been followed by a Sweet Shiraz called The Jam Jar, which is all the rage at the moment – but this is nothing. In2010 we will see wines appealing to popular tastes carrying names such as “Cracking Caramel Cabernet”, “The Melon Chardonnay” and “My Meaty Merlot”. More racy versions aiming to appeal to the hot and wild crowd include “Wild Pussy Pinot Noir”, “The Boner Blanc” and “My Well Hung White”. These quirky names, as well as the easier drinking styles, will lead to an increase in per capita wine consumption in South Africa from the current 6,7 litre per person per annum to 15,8 litre in two years. The uptake of wine’s local popularity will, however, have a debilitating effect on exports as most of it will be consumed by South Africans. 
• The world of wine judging will be turned on its head with the introduction of the VinoPod, a computerised wine judging system. Invented by Steve Jobs of Apple in conjunction with the University of California, the VinoPod removes the human element of wine assessment through a combination of software and computerised sensorial detectors. The VinoPod is plugged into a computer’s USB port. 35ml of wine is poured into the VinoPod’s funnel, after which the computer program identifies the wine variety or blend, its vintage, potential faults and provides a score out of 100 as well as a written description of between 80 and 250 words. A special South African version, developed for the Platter Wine Guide, will also automatically identify the producer to ensure wine is not identified in a blind manner.
• The Pebbles wine charity in the Cape winelands begins a special arm to provide assistance to wine writers who have become unemployed due to the increasing irrelevance of the printed, “dead-tree” media. Pebbles keeps spirits alive by providing the former writers with back-issues of magazines and old Platter Wine Guides, and the annual Freebie Re-enactment day proves to be very popular. On this day, PR consultants visit Pebbles to remind the scribes of the days when they were still eligible for complimentary wine samples and meals by re-enacting popular events such as Kanonkop Snoek Braais and the Nederburg Auction.
• The South African wine industry is boycotted by English retailers after a dramatic incident during the 2010 World Cup Soccer Tournament that saw England losing to Portugal in the finals. English striker Wayne Rooney missed during the deciding penalty shoot-out, blaming an evening “on the piss with Pinotage” for his poor form in the final match. Apparently, Rooney was sipping mineral water in his hotel’s bar on the evening before the final when he was lured into joining a few Stellenbosch wine-makers for a Pinotage tasting. Rooney went a bit too far with the wine – describing it as “fookin’ A”, putting away three bottles from the 1998, 2000 and 2003 vintages before passing out on the floor and causing him to play the final in a hung-over state. Describing the incident in a press-conference after the match, Rooney claimed the actions of the wine-makers was nothing more than “fookin’ mean” causing “those Porra gits” to win.The boycott will extend until England’s next victory against Portugal.
• Jacob Zuma, President of South Africa, becomes the most prolific member of the Cape Winemakers’ Guild to date after the performance of his Château Shaka Shiraz in local and international wine shows. Zuma, a keen garagiste wine-maker, enters his first wines into 2010 wine competitions, and they prove to be an instant hit among judges who describe them “loud and colourful, despite being fat and sweaty”. Zuma’s Guild membership, however, causes kill-joy political journalists and his political opponents to accuse him of spending more time at wine tastings and lectures than running the country. There is also domestic conflict in the Zuma household as his three wives clash over who is to accompany the President to the Veritas Awards and Cape Winemakers Guild Auction.

                                                                                                                                                                           – Darien Morgan