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MICHAEL FRIDJHON: You need more than a midwife to birth a fine wine

If the role of winemakers were unimportant, they would have long become redundant

The Vrede en Lust estate in Paarl has just launched its ultra-deluxe red: the 2019 Napoleonsberg Cabernet Sauvignon. Picture: SUPPLIED
The Vrede en Lust estate in Paarl has just launched its ultra-deluxe red: the 2019 Napoleonsberg Cabernet Sauvignon. Picture: SUPPLIED

Winemakers like to say that if they harvest healthy grapes at the right time their wines virtually make themselves. The implication is that the human role is like that of a midwife, or at least that of the conductor of an orchestra. “Minimal intervention” appears at least as often on wine industry brochures and tech sheets as “harvested at optimum ripeness”.

If this sales patter were true, then all wines from the same location, from similarly managed vineyards and harvested at optimum ripeness (of course) would taste the same. This is clearly not so. Jordan estate in Stellenbosch-Polkadraai markets three different Chardonnays (one admittedly unoaked). Of course they are all distinctly differently; likewise the DeMorgenzon Chardonnay from the adjacent property.

If the role of winemakers were unimportant, it wouldn’t have taken until the Age of AI for them to have become as redundant as wheelwrights and telegraph operators. They do far more than merely turn grapes into wine. If they are competent, their aesthetic vision will drive the end result.

Two recent tastings clearly illustrated the way the bottled wine reflects what the winemaker set out to achieve. The Vrede en Lust estate in Paarl has just launched its ultra-deluxe red: the 2019 Napoleonsberg Cabernet Sauvignon. It’s evident that cellarmaster Karlin Nel wanted the wine to be as striking as the packaging. (You could argue that the packaging was made to be as striking as the wine but this kind of wine is envisioned long before it’s made, and part of that vision is how it will come to market).

The fruit was given enough hang-time in that first of the post-drought vintages to ensure it was opulent and full, without even the faintest savoury whiff of leafy greenness. Already this is indicative of the style the winemaker has chosen to pursue. Then there’s the role of the oak, which adds both aromatic and textural elements. Finally there’s the delayed release date, to give the component parts a chance to harmonise.

At about R700 (and with the kind of presentation which might inspire the marketing folk at Dom Perignon) it’s obviously targeted at the luxury beverage market. Consumers here don’t want to wait for their wines to mature. They also want plushness not grippy tannin. This is was Ms Nel set out to make, and it’s exactly what the wine delivers.

John Seccombe, producer of the Thorne & Daughters wines, has a wholly different approach. Most of the vineyards from which he sources his fruit are unirrigated, frontier-like sites mainly in the Swartland. To capture a sense of place he avoids the higher sugars which transform into super-plush, showy wines. He generally uses neutral vessels — stainless steel, older oak, amphora or blond barrels. His grapes have to survive their environment — it’s character-building — and they need a little time in bottle to recover from the struggle of getting there.

His latest releases, all from the 2022 vintage, are of an evenly high quality, though some are more forward than others. So, of his two sémillon-based wines, I found the Paper Kite harvested from 60-year sémillon blanc vines more accessible. Only from the texture and aromatic depth can you imagine it might have spent time in oak, and from that predict how good it will be three to five years hence. I suspect that the Tin Soldier — from a rare sémillon gris vineyard — will become more forward in time. At the moment its sibling is doing most of the talking.

Seccombe’s two best known wines — the Cat’s Cradle Chenin and the Rocking Horse multi-cultivar blend — are worthy successors to earlier releases, ready to be enjoyed now but with ample evolution in reserve.

My big discovery was his Copper Pot Pinot Noir made from Hemel-en-Aarde fruit. Uncomplicated, delicious and readily accessible — and at R190 selling for half the price of his “on allocation” whites — it’s vastly more enjoyable than many of the more expensive and more famous pinots from Walker Bay, the so-called Burgundy of the Cape.

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