Weltevrede is brimming with bold ideas and visionary wines

A vision is an ephemeral thing. It can take decades to formulate and then pinpoint, and still, despite clarity, remain elusive in its fulfilment.

Many winery entrances attempt to convey grandeur, heritage and winemaking craftsmanship by having ostentatious filigree gates surrounded by perfectly pruned rosebushes, or centuries-past dates and logos emblazoned on gabled, whitewashed manor houses. In comparison, the approach to Weltevrede is mundane.

On the road from Robertson, just at the outskirts of Bonnievale, Western Cape, there are no boundary fences, the signage is minimal, and a flash of well-used farm equipment is the primary imprint on the mind’s eye. If you’re driving fairly fast, en route to a destination further along the R317 or heading back to the N2, you could feel little incentive to pull in.

You would be missing the opportunity to experience an exceptional wine tasting and an immersion into a microcosm of SA history and the story of chardonnay worldwide.

Stepping out of the car, there’s a gentle breeze from the Breede River flowing across the far end of the farm. The landscape is framed by the backdrop of the Langeberg and Riviersonderend mountain ranges at ten o’clock and two o’clock respectively. The effect is to make the vineyard look huge, significantly larger than its 100ha.

A young-looking, muscular man is intently pruning some gnarly, knotted vines at the walkway to the tasting centre. They’re exhibited as the farm’s very first vines, now 96 years old, which are being resurrected and nurtured as homage to the estate’s roots. The vines are being fashioned in the hope that in a year or three they’ll take on sculpted shapes befitting their names: Michelangelo’s Pietà and David, Auguste Rodin’s The Thinker and similar references to creativity and innovation.  

This is a first glimpse into something special happening at Weltevrede. To discover more, I’m heading underground.

A barrier rope blocks the entrance, like an old-style cinema, creating a sense of anticipation as it is lifted with a dramatic flourish. Descending into a cold, dimly lit cavern, I realise this is the first in a labyrinth of old concrete tanks, sealed with beeswax, which was how wine was fermented and stored in the early decades of the farm’s establishment. With the help of architect and building consultants, during the Covid-19 hiatus Weltevrede’s owners, the Jonker family, took the opportunity to explore, excavate and transform these tanks as part of a reimagining of the cellar.

First conceptualised 20 years ago, the tasting facilities are now embedded in a series of interconnecting dens surrounded by decades-old barrel and bottle collections, nooks with chardonnay-related educational displays and museum-like nodes containing artefacts and archival materials documenting the history of the estate and the family.  

My guide through the maze is Zizipho Jantjies, whose obvious love of wine is matched by his respect for the surroundings and their history. Janties’s explanations, accentuated by the ambience, enhance appreciation of the first tasting, Calcrete. The 2021 vintage is flinty and crisp, with an apple-and-peach aroma, then citrusy lime on the palate. Calcrete is a calcium-carbonate deposit prevalent in limestone; it is found in other parts of SA, but in wine-producing areas it’s unique to the terroir here, in the Bonnievale-Robertson valley.

The wine’s name unveils Weltevrede’s vision: to forge Calcrete as an area-specific style and brand, perhaps inclusive of like-minded chardonnay producers in the vicinity, such as Arendsig and De Wetshof. The terroir around the midpoint from Robertson to Bonnievale does mirror many of Burgundy’s climatic and soil conditions. Imagine: an SA wine appellation to match Chablis in Burgundy, France, the world’s most esteemed wine region.

The idea is bold and brave, not least because chardonnay has only existed in SA since cuttings were smuggled into the country in the early 1980s by Danie de Wet and a few other winemakers frustrated by the rules of the KWV monopoly. And there’s a smidgen of chutzpah in aiming to start mirroring Burgundy’s principles, with its complex system of classifications and nomenclatures.

Weltevrede’s chardonnays are surely exceptional value, even if connoisseurs have yet to categorise them as world-class.

Taste-wise, I find Weltevrede’s Calcrete a bit austere; bottle ageing for a year or two will certainly highlight the nuances and soften its edges. Wine experts may debate whether calcrete, the substance, harnesses the natural minerality of limestone characteristics to the wine. Does it make the vines suffer further in the semi-arid soil, and synergise with the cooling coastal winds — channelled into the valley from Africa’s southernmost point, 120km away — in contributing to the distinctiveness of Weltevrede’s chardonnays? The answer is moot: by referencing the rocky terrain and riffing obliquely on Chablis, I think Calcrete is an apt name for a regional brand appellation. 

Winding further through the crypt-like cellar and absorbing more information, I taste Weltevrede’s flagship, Poet’s Prayer, produced only in years when the winemaker believes the yield is perfect, and only in minute quantities. The 2017 is elegant, modestly mineral and more gently floral than the Calcrete.

There’s a surprise: half an hour later, in the last, warmer underground chamber, I retaste the wine, accompanied by an emotional poetry reading by Jantjies. It’s almost mystical and, intriguingly, the wine is now more rounded and harmonious, slightly buttery, with a hint of butterscotch. Which proves the complexity of this particular wine, as well as how the aesthetic and sensory context affects what we taste and how we recognise nuances.

The third speciality chardonnay is Place of Rocks. It bridges the other two, and combines characteristics of both: lightly acidic and zesty in the mouth, but with a soft, creamy smoothness in finish and aftertaste, with hints of toasted almonds, vanilla, marmalade and marshmallow.

I haven’t tasted enough white Burgundy or Chablis to know how Weltevrede’s creations compare with the world’s best. But, with even the most commercially accessible Burgundy labels priced at about R500 a bottle, and the premium domaines into the thousands of rand, Weltevrede’s chardonnays are surely exceptional value, even if connoisseurs have yet to categorise them as world-class.   

Until now, I’ve been sceptical of the awe attributed to terroir, sensing that its use is sometimes pretentious wine-speak that befuddles enjoyment of a wonderful beverage. But I may have seen the light. Weltevrede is onto something with its tight terroir vision and definitions. It’s no ordinary wine farm, and — having explored the Cape’s wine lands fairly extensively — the cellar tour and tasting can be described as unique.

As I’m about to leave, the man whom I saw pruning the showcase vines enters the tasting centre, still with secateurs in hand. I’m introduced to Philip Jonker, the estate owner and fourth-generation winemaker — the man with the Calcrete vision. He’s modest, but there’s a sense of destiny and confidence when he sums up his passion and commitment: “Chardonnay chose us,” he says.

Having witnessed Jonker, hands-on, attending with reverence to a small part of his dream, I feel sure his vision will be realised.