Despite the best efforts of the “Anything But Chardonnay” movement, whose triumphs — dating back to the 1980s and 1990s — are now distant memories, there’s no shortage of demand for the great white grape of Burgundy.
The brief dip, about a quarter of a century ago, had more to do with incompetent winemaking than any intrinsic shortcomings of the variety. Poor fruit handling combined with overenthusiastic oaking did yield some vinous monsters: clumsy, chunky and dull — and about as charmless as Vladimir Putin, bare-chested astride an unhappy mare.
But that was a long time ago, and if we were to reflect on chenin or sauvignon from the same era we could hardly imagine being any more enthusiastic about the average quality of what went to bottle in the Cape. Chenins were generally simple and sweet (so not at all like Mr Putin), whereas the sauvignons were aggressive, sour and even a little bitter (making them pretty good avatars for the Russian leader).
An invitation to taste an array of current-release Cape chardonnays was a welcome addition to a visit to Stellenbosch. The selection had been curated by a couple of winemakers so it reflected their idea of what should be regarded as benchmarks. The tasting wasn’t blind (which came as a bit of a surprise — there’s nothing like a glimpse at the label to confirm one’s prejudices.)
The line-up comprised mainly wines that are readily available — so it excluded examples such as Richard Kershaw, Capensis, Storm and Iona. It did have many of the usual suspects. As is often the case when you compile an array of well-made wines, what you get to taste is a combination of origin (terroir in other words) and the hand of the winemaker.
Only two of the wines appeared as under 13% alcohol on the label: the Glenelly 2021 reserve and the Paul Cluver 2020. This, it could be argued, might be a function of place or winemaker preference. The Cluver comes from Elgin where the cooler conditions favour greater ripeness levels at lower alcohol. The Glenelly is certainly from a cooler part of Stellenbosch — though not as cool as Vergelegen, whose reserve 2022 was included in the line-up.
Clearly Luke Luke O’Cuinneagain, who made the Glenelly, chose to harvest a little earlier than the other Stellenbosch producers to capture more of the lemon-to-lime flavours of chardonnay. This was accentuated by a decision to use blond toast barrels: less char means fewer sweet, caramel notes and a more austere style of wine.
Rustenberg’s 2021 Five Soldiers — from a site close to the Glenelly — showed more obvious oaking: marzipan and almond notes, rather than the citrus hints of chardonnay fruit. It was certainly more flamboyant that the standard Rustenberg Stellenbosch release.
From further up the Helshoogte Pass came the Delaire Graff Banhoek Reserve, a bigger, richer style of wine, the oak more evident but well integrated, the fruit showing a sweet-sour tension that added lift to the palate. The 2019 DeMorgenzon, from the Polkadraai side of Stellenbosch — so with a little less altitude but greater proximity to the sea — had much the same richness. Carrying an extra year of bottle age, it also showed more development.
Finally, the Hamilton Russell (also lower in alcohol at around 13%) was altogether a little unexpected. It was more textural, and had some of the tangy zestiness evident in the Delaire Graff, but also some smoky, leesy whiffs which hinted at complexity down the line — assuming they don’t overpower the fruit.
Preferences are always subjective when it comes to wines of this calibre. One of the group opted for the Rustenberg Stellenbosch — which sells for less than half the price of the single site Five Soldiers. For me — and for another taster at the table — the vote went to the Paul Cluver. It showed lovely integration and carried the oaking perfectly. With the finesse that comes from the lower alcohol, it had a purity setting it apart from the other, flashier examples.
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