Harvesting a Forty-year Family Legacy – Simonsig’s Kaapse Vonkel

It’s summertime in the Cape winelands. The sun is shining. The afternoons are so heated the air seems to shimmer. The mountain tops above seem heavy, a distant deep purple and the leaves on the vines before me are glowing a luminescent green. Bunches of grapes hang from them like perfect, radiant spheres – and they are ripe for the picking.

This is the very start of harvest season, when these delicate globes take the next step of their journey from the vineyards to our glasses. A time of the year that conjures up romantic images like basket loads of grapes streaming out of the vineyards by day and by night, of grape stomping rituals and most importantly, of bountiful celebration. And this year, the Stellenbosch winery Simonsig has much to celebrate.

Home to Kaapse Vonkel, the acclaimed Méthod Cap Classique (MCC) bubbly, this harvest represents the 40^th anniversary since visionary winemaker Frans Malan introduced it to the South African market. It was the first bubbly in South Africa to be made using the traditional Champagne method, a bold move at the time. Under the careful attention of Mr. Malan’s sons, it also became one of the few MCC’s to use the same classic grape combination used in Champagne – Pinot Noir, Chardonnay and Pinot Meunier. In other words, it’s about as close as you can get to “real” Champagne without throwing a few hundred rand at an imported bottle.

And why not buy local when such at outstanding MCC is at our fingertips? The recipe for Kaapse Vonkel has paid off in the form of a long list of accolades like numerous 4-star rankings from the Platter’s Wine Guide, top position in the Wine Magazine Cap Classique Challenges, international recognition, and several Veritas awards.

Crisp and bisquity with a citrusy nose and yeasty flavour, Kaapse Vonkel pairs well with seafood like oysters, smoked salmon and sushi. It also pairs well with friends, good times and summertime weather, when you feel inspired to lift your glass in tribute to the accomplishments of the past, the joy of the present, and the possibility of the future. Cheers to Simonsig – may this year’s harvest bring even more sparkle to the Cape.

Seeking Chenin’s Serious Side

South Africa plants more Chenin Blanc than any other grape variety and production levels here are the highest in the world, yet she carries the stigma of unsophisticated bulk wine and many consumers overlook her true potential as an elegant gem. But Chenin Blanc’s struggle for recognition isn’t over yet and her unsung story is complete with champions like Ken Forrester set on changing the odds.

The humble Chenin Blanc grape is a curious character. Something like the quiet girl at the party, she has all the grace and sophistication one could want for – yet she fades into the background next to the glitz and glamour of her outspoken cousins Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc. A walk into an average wine shop confirms her small pool of friends – bottle after bottle, other wines greet you at the door and only if you make it past their bells and whistles, seeming to catcall to you from the shelves as you walk by, will you find poor little Chenin tucked away in some small corner – sometimes overlooked and mostly underappreciated.

There is of course a reason for this ugly-duckling status – until a few decades ago Chenin was used to produce the bottom-of-the-barrel for the down-and-nearly-outs of society. Her history in South Africa started out innocently enough – Chenin was among the very first vine clippings planted by Jan van Riebeeck in 1655 – but the winemakers of the day had a fairly poor knowledge of viticulture, allowing the vines to grow like weeds and produce generous harvests of grapes that had little similarity to the complex quality and concentrated characteristics of Chenin when yields are low. Adding insult to injury, basic winemaking materials like oak barrels and fining were not readily available in the Cape, meaning that Chenin Blanc wine was what today we call plonk – it might have even made that sound upon landing in one’s glass – but let’s leave that topic for another time. It was so unpleasant that the officers of the Dutch East India Company wouldn’t dare touch it and only the working classes would.

But in 1806 a funny thing happened – the British occupied the Cape. I say this was funny not in the hilarious sense, but in the ironic sense. At war with France, the English Empire was desperately cut-off from the trade of French wine and to substitute they began exporting Cape wine to the world. The demand was so great that Cape wine production increased by ten-fold and the British were soon pumping millions of litres of plonk to their unsuspecting kinsmen everywhere. This surely must have hastened efforts to kiss and make up with France. When a treaty was finally signed in the 1860’s the bottom fell out. Alas, the party was over and like a discarded mistress the Cape wine industry was left holding the bag.

Then a pivotal question presented itself – just what to do with all that wine? Eventually a decision was taken to distil it into brandy - a process that yields one litre of brandy for every five litres of wine. In a way Chenin Blanc’s versatility rescued the industry from bankruptcy but this didn’t do much for her reputation since the quality of brandy, known as “witblitz” or “firewater”, was even worse than plonk wine. After this Chenin’s fate was pretty much sealed and until a few years ago no one would give her a second look let alone believe in her potential for elegance.

But did you know that a South African Chenin Blanc, properly made today, rivals the finest examples in the world, even those from Loire Valley, France where the grape originated? And just like any good underdog story Chenin Blanc has her champions – her knights in shining armour – who fight to change her reputation from one of ill repute to one of true stature. People like Ken Forrester discovered her potential before most in the industry, and even started the Chenin Blanc Association as a way to both elevate quality and change perceptions.

Discovering “diamonds in the rough” is something of a pastime for Mr. Forrester. When he decided to move from Johannesburg to Stellenbosch he found a new home for his young family – not just any home, he bought a derelict structure through public auction that had been standing vacant for years. There was no roof, no electricity, and evidence of vandalism was all over the place - sounds like a real charmer to me. But what do I know? As it turns out, his instincts were spot on – this historic Cape Dutch homestead was built in 1694, part of a farm originally granted in 1689 and today this manor home has been restored to its original glory. Besides his passion for Chenin Blanc, Mr. Forrester considers Pinotage to be another unsung story and is intent on revealing its true potential as a wine with structure, one that can even be confused with classic Burgundy, if it is kept in the barrel and aged in the cellar longer before its release. He makes a case for a change in industry standards to better inform the consumer about the care that goes into developing a wine, to encourage both craftsmanship on the part of the industry, and informed appreciation by consumers. With vision like this it’s not hard to imagine his passion for Chenin Blanc paying off – and in fact, it is already starting.

Ken Forrester wines have been recognized globally and served at gala events, including Nelson Mandela’s 85^th birthday celebration. The democratic offering comes in three tiers – a value, estate, and premium range – so there is something for every occasion and every wallet. No matter which Chenin Blanc you choose, according to Wine Spectator the entire offering ranks upwards of 86-points– a nod that they are truly outstanding varietals. Best of all the 2009 Forrester Meinert Chenin (FMC) earned a 92-point rating – on par with some of the best that France can offer, albeit at a decidedly more welcoming price point.

With such a successful track record perhaps Ken Forrester has struck onto something significant – in a highly competitive global market why try to compete with the Sauvignon Blancs and Chardonnays of the world when they’re already surrounding us with their fame, calling to us from every aisle shouting “4-stars” this and “double-gold” that. At the end of the party, aren’t they just more of the same, like so many wilted flowers? When Chenin Blanc is so well suited to the South African climate and has the potential as a niche offering worldwide, why not set our own standard? Perhaps Chenin Blanc is our lady in waiting after all. Funny thing is, she’s been here all along. Funny not in the hilarious sense, but in the ironic sense. If only we would notice.

Port Dreams and Calitzdorp

A visit to Calitzdorp is sort of like a step back to another era – once off the main road, the streets are few, narrow, and lined with colourful Bougainvillea, the houses are thick-walled and set back in ample shade, the building that holds the town museum looks like part of the display, the police station is friendly and relaxed, and you get a quiet feeling of being in a place where time moves a little slower. This is an honest place, like a little welcoming gem in the dusty, lonely expanse of the hot Klein Karoo. It’s blessed with a climate perfect for growing sweet, sugary grapes and as a result is home to South Africa’s top two producers of port – Boplaas Family Vineyards and De Krans.

These winemakers consistently score the highest marks in the John Platter ratings guide and aren’t shy about telling you through the many sign-boards posted throughout town. Every few hundred meters there is a reminder peeking out through the flowers at you, making it nearly impossible to leave without stopping in for a try. I had to make a choice between the two wine farms and chose Boplaas because of its older history, since 1880. It was easy to find – I just followed the signboards like directions on a treasure hunt, and within moments I found the shaded car park and made my way up to the tasting room.

Dark and cool inside, I nearly forgot it was only 11AM and got stuck into tasting all versions of sweet and smooth goodness. The Cape Ruby port was dark, plumy and ripe with fruit – I imagined myself enjoying it with a rich, gooey, dark chocolate dessert, perhaps with raspberry sauce. The Cape Tawney is grown on 20-year old vines and aged for 12 months in Portuguese oak, and you can tell – it tasted like raisin molasses, perfect on its own or over a rich vanilla ice-cream. The Cape Vintage Reserve is aged for 2 years in Portuguese oak and was the Grand Daddy of them all, living up to its five-star reputation with ease. It has a dark, deep purple colour and tasted smooth, regal, and heavy with blackberries.

At the end of the tasting I found it difficult to choose which treasures to purchase – would it be ruby, tawny, dark and plumy, pink, raisin-like, or berry delicious? Finally I settled on the Cape Tawney and the Vintage Reserve and now that I’m back at home, I have the even more difficult task of waiting for the perfect opportunity to enjoy them again!

Details & Cellar Door Prices

-Tasting: R20 per person, unless you make a purchase over R200, then it’s complimentary

- Cape Tawny Port Vinter’s Reserve 2006, 4-stars JP Guide, R100 per 750ml bottle or R41 per 375ml bottle

- Cape Vintage Reserve Port 2006, 5-stars JP Guide, R150 per 750ml bottle

Exhausting Cape Town

A compact city nestled in the bowl of Table Mountain, Cape Town is steeped in history, surrounded by natural beauty, and offers a kaleidoscope of experiences.

Known as the Mother City, Cape Town was the first permanent European settlement in South Africa, established in 1652 to replenish the Dutch East India Company’s Spice Route ships, whose sailors risked life and limb in dangerous seas at the prospect of fame, riches, and a little black pepper. Once past the Cape of Good Hope, returning sailors could stop off at the Castle for supplies and a little reverie. Set in the centre of town, the Castle still stands today with its thick stone walls and a moat designed to keep out the unknown and the undesirable. In 1659 the first recorded wine was produced in Constantia, and became sought after by the likes of Napoleon and Frederick the Great. Today wine farms still grace the sloping hills around Cape Town and the surrounding areas like Stellenbosch and Franschhoek with neat rows of vines set dramatically against the mountains where they can be cooled by the drifting sea air.

The Cape’s rugged, natural beauty speaks to its position on the southern tip of Africa – with jagged mountain peaks and sheer cliff faces that fall into the sea in red, rocky knuckles that persist in a longstanding battle against the elements, fighting erosion for as long as possible. The wind can play havoc all year round, the winter westerly bringing driving rains and the gusting summer southeaster, also known as the Cape Doctor, blows some of the freshest, cleanest air in the world to its first stop on land since leaving Antarctica. Autumn brings relief to the summertime heat, and Springtime is even more gentle, bringing lovely flowers like the white Arum Lily that grows freely all around, the Protea – South Africa’s national flower – and the triumph of all, the West Coast’s colourful wild flowers that burst like confetti once a year from the dusty, arid ground in vibrant shades of red, purple, orange, white and yellow.

Perfectly suited to a driving tour, it’s possible to whiz through the city and its surrounds in a day but a week would be more realistic if you want to do more than skim the surface. You can start by visiting the city centre, where historic Victorian buildings stand as a reminder of its European heritage, framed by the modern-day chaos of Africa. Take a walk down busy Loop Street, buzzing with energy as street hawkers sell goods on the corners to the smorgasbord of overseas visitors, each looking for the perfect souvenir, maybe a carved elephant, or perhaps a tribal mask, before returning to their 5-star hotels like the Mount Nelson where they can enjoy afternoon tea on the shaded veranda in true Colonial style. Sprinkled amongst the slow-moving crowds are the locals, weaving their way through at a faster pace, perhaps quickly popping out of their offices to run an errand or grab a bite to eat before taking the lift back up to their skyscraper offices where they’ll conduct business on the line with clients in America or the head office in the UK.

Dodging through the traffic-laden streets, full of mini-bus taxis and fearless pedestrians, you can jump in your car and make your way out of the city centre’s hustle-and-bustle. Within 10-minutes you can be standing at the mountain look-out on the ridge near Lion’s Head, or at the base of Table Mountain where you can take the cable car to the top for a panoramic view over the city, the harbour, and Camps Bay, just south of the city. Famous for its beautiful white sand beaches and popular among visiting Europeans, Camp’s Bay offers a natural shelter from the summer winds and views framed by the dramatic ridges of the Twelve Apostles, part of the Table Mountain range. The Main Road through town is a fashionable affair, where you can stop off for a bite to eat or enjoy a cocktail while taking in the view of both the place and the people.

Carrying on farther south, the winding road hugs the shoreline on your right and the mountains on your left, traversing the peninsula past Llandudno and its boulder-strewn beaches towards Hout Bay, a working fishing harbour where if you’re lucky you’ll find fresh snoek or yellowtail just off the boat. If you’re in the mood for a treat, stop off at one of the local fish shops for fresh calamari and chips you can enjoy at the water’s edge while taking in the view. Frequent cruises leave the harbour taking you just outside the sheltered zone where the waters run deep near Duiker Island, home to thousands of seals and a sometimes-pantry to the Great White Sharks who patrol this zone. Farther along, the Sentinal peak juts upwards abruptly over the sea, casting its shadow on a surf spot called Dungeons where enormous waves break a few times a year. Only visited by the sea’s most respectful and worthy pilgrims, the place feels sacred and heavy.

Back in your car, carry on along Chapman’s Peak – a magic drive where the mountains glow red and deep burnt browns in the sunset hour. Carved into the mountain-side a hundred years past, the road is an engineering feat just barely clinging to the steep sides of the near vertical cliffs it passes through, allowing your eyes a scene reserved for the lucky and for most, only once in a life time. Following the path of the road you’ll see Noordhoek with its farmyard charm and where you can kick your shoes off and take a walk along its six-kilometer long beach, so big it never feels crowded.

Jutting out on a peninsula, you can see the Slangkop lighthouse in Kommetjie. Drive up the hillside and enjoy a sundowner and another panoramic view – if you stay long enough you might be paid a visit by the Chacma Baboons who live on the mountainside and frequently drop in to town looking to grab a quick snack from an unsuspecting household or road-side picnickers. Potato chips are a favourite item, so keep an eye out for the sneaky thieves!

Driving on, more treasures await – Cape Point at the tip of the peninsula, Simon’s Town and its resident penguins, views across False Bay, gentle waves at Muizenberg – perfect for learning to surf – and across the Cape Flats towards the vineyards of Stellenbosch, Franschhoek, Paarl and Wellington where you can sample the regional wines, fruits and cheese before returning to town, exhausted and full of memories.

So I'm officially a Kleine Zalze Ambassador... what have I done?

So I’ve recently been selected as a Kleine Zalze Wine Estate Ambassador and I’m wondering, what’s in store for me? As part of the programme, I’ve committed to demonstrating my joie de vivre, enriching my adventures with complimentary wines and celebrating with compelling stories for all to read on this blog. My goodness, I’ve got that morning after feeling and I’m wondering – what have I gotten myself into? Will I feel compelled to fill my writing with superlatives, platitudes and gushing about how fabulous life is? Will I truth tell for better or worse, boring or otherwise? Perhaps the other Ambassadors will be far more interesting than me and I’ll somehow get voted off this avatar-island we’ve all so suddenly populated. Ok, I tell myself - calm down. A shipment of lovely wine is coming my way, and we’ll soon be informed of the first Ambassador Challenge. How bad can it be? I love wine. I love trying new wine. I love trying wines I like again and again. I remind myself of the prize – a weekend of the Good Life on the Kleine Zalze Estate, and the opportunity to share my musings with other wine enthusiasts. Ok, I think. I might just be ready. Let the adventure begin!

Writing a Ticket to Freedom

So one day I decided to become a writer. I haven’t started yet, but it sounds like a good plan – I can make my own hours, work wherever I like, and spend time with the people I love. Over and above the positives, the decision was also spurred out of exasperation – the realization that I’ve been working in a not-so-glamorous desk job, where the effort-to-fulfillment ratio is no longer working in my favour.

So what made me think I could do this? You see, I have a history of this kind of behaviour, of making a decision and then diving in wholeheartedly. If I had a motto it would have to be “do it or bust”. About to graduate high school, I decided to go to a private university. When my parents couldn’t afford the tuition, I landed a scholarship and studied abroad in South Africa for six months. After university, I decided to move to California – it sounded nice and sunny. I had no job, no contacts, and just enough money. I took a road trip and when I got there I decided to stay. I needed a job so I decided to work in Advertising – I had been thinking about it since attending a presentation about it at a Career Fair. It sounded interesting so I got out the Yellowpages and called every listing until I landed my first job. After seven years I decided to move back to South Africa, I missed its natural beauty and the raw feeling of being on the edge of the world. It was calling my name.

So after living in South Africa for four years I’ve found myself looking at my path here and feeling a little disappointed at my achievements. Before the move to SA I was full of romanticism about my new beginning. I would travel, see new things, meet new people, focus on life – not work. I guess all the freedom was just a little overwhelming because at some point I crossed the line back into familiar territory – work, work, work. The trouble with being a good worker though, is that it doesn’t just take eight hours a day – it takes almost all of them. You can’t be a good worker unless you’re passionate, and you can’t be passionate if you’re waiting for 16:59 on the clock to start packing up to go start your day. The worst of all, you can’t think about beautiful things when your mind has been cluttered with appointments, politics and the boardroom shenanigans of the Corporate Empire.

So I’ve decided that by becoming a writer I can focus on being the person I want to be, and have time to think, to dream of lovely life. Time to actually have the experiences I dream about – traveling into the unknown to the Transkei, up the West Coast, to the Karoo, the Overberg, Mozambique, Namibia and beyond – and most of all, the small nondescript towns in between that no one ever talks about but which leave you with a true feeling of a place, its gritty history and the people who have built it through generations of time.

I’ll explore all these places through meeting the locals, eating new foods and through rough-and-tumble camping. I’ll focus on other activities at home, too – I’ll finally learn to surf and overcome my hesitation to dive in the freezing Atlantic – I’ll catch my first crayfish. I’ll kayak the ocean and small, mellow lagoons. I’ll climb mountains and learn how to take beautiful photography. I’ll teach myself the art of cooking and pastry making. I’ll become a better mountain biker – no more falling on the downs because I’ve squeezed my brakes in a panic! I will no longer be afraid of baboons in close proximity. I’ll sample fine local wines, braai with friends and listen to the ocean through open air on the night breeze.

Being a writer sounds just great. I just have one question I’ll need to answer before I can begin. – I wonder, “What I should write about?”