Marglin on Taste

While some may think South Africa dangerous, its fine wines are safer bets than ever. The country’s exports to the United States essentially began a decade ago, when the trade embargo ended with the fall of apartheid. Given the power of the US wine market to drive sales and, in turn, make capital investment in wine attractive, the fine-wine industry has really operated in South Africa for only about 10 years.

That’s not to say South Africa is new to wine, which has actually been made there since 1659. During the 18th and early 19th centuries, as a British colony, South Africa supplied plenty of wine to England. But South Africa’s wine industry suffered when England and France opened up trade in 1861, and then was pretty much decimated by the plant-lice phylloxera and the Boer War. After World War I, the KWV wine cooperative formed. It operated pretty much as a monopoly, producing mediocre wines of little merit, and the country’s exports were nothing to write home about.

Indeed, for a time, things were so bad that millions of vines were uprooted in favor of alfalfa, which was used to feed the ostriches “” ostrich feathers being highly fashionable during the roaring ’20s. When the ostrich fad faded, KWV was left controlling production, import, and pretty much everything else. Then the US trade embargo closed South Africa’s major market for wine, leaving England and Holland as the only two significant customers to which South Africa could export. Since the embargo’s end, however, KWV’s grip has eased on the South African wine industry: there are now 71 cooperatives, 95-plus estate wineries (called wine farms) where grapes are grown and wine is made, and another 125-plus cellars (which produce wine from sourced grapes).

White wine (much of it steen, a clonal variety of chenin blanc) accounts for 80 percent of South African wine. Most of it has been mediocre. But now, with the markets reopened, fine South African wine is improving and may well reach its zenith in the next few years. Problems may lie ahead, however: investment has slowed, and many winemakers are fleeing for other, safer countries. Unless socioeconomic conditions change, South Africa may lose its best and brightest winemakers, and, without sufficient capital, the fine-wine industry could falter.

Absent the current climate of violence, South African conditions for winemaking “” in terms of terroir and weather “” are ideal. It’s the only wine region influenced by two oceans, the Indian and the Atlantic. Most of its premier areas lie to the west, surrounding Cape Town and the Cape of Good Hope. Its major wine regions have temperate maritime climates, including fog, sufficient but moderate rainfall (so almost no irrigation is needed), and diverse soils that yield ripe grapes. Indeed, unlike Europe, South Africa rarely has an off vintage (though the 1999 heat wave didn’t help).

At their best, many South African wines, especially the reds, are big wins in the $10-to-$30 range. (The reds have a smoky quality because of the high mineral content, especially iron, in the soil.) Cabernets, merlots, and shirazes dominate; the country’s even been trying its hand at pinot noir. There’s also a unique South African red called pinotage, which, after years of ranging from blah to undrinkable, has now become exciting. Pinotage was first developed in a laboratory in South Africa in 1925, when yields of pinot noir were considered too low, by crossing pinot noir with the high-yielding Rhône varietal cinsaut (actually the South African version, Cape cinsaut). The result was a fruity, higher-yielding wine with lots of smoky taste. Most good wine stores carry at least one pinotage, but be sure to discuss it with your merchant before purchasing.

Over the past decade, South Africa has had oak issues “” they often use too much, and it totally dominates the fruit. With younger, better winemakers, this problem has receded. South African sauvignon blancs now rival New Zealand’s; my favorites are Mulderbosch, Neil Ellis, and Paul Cluver from the Elgin region. Recently, I’ve even tasted some steens that I wouldn’t kick off my table. I also very much like Russell-Hamilton chardonnay, and Villiera, in Paarl, makes an excellent sparkling wine called Tradition.

South African wines give us many good reasons to be hopeful “” so drink some while the drinking is good.

2001 Paul Cluver Sauvignon Blanc Elgin. Grapefruity and zesty, quite lively, with plenty of acidity and zing. Exciting on the palate, full of fruit, with a faint bouquet of new-mown hay. Would go great with oysters (even fried) or other raw shellfish.

1999 Delheim Merlot Stellenbosch. Even in a hot year, you get a wine that is potent yet restrained, with ample black fruit, including blackberry and cassis: it says lamb or steak.

2000 Spice Route Pinotage. Called a cult wine, this is truly impressive: brimming with fruity flavors that stand up incredibly well to Creole and Cajun spices. I paired it with duck, and it also works wonders for Chilean sea bass. Very forward, quality American oak, chewy but not too dense “” the best pinotage I’ve tasted.

1998 Rust en Vrede Stellenbosch. This is a blend of 54 percent cabernet sauvignon, 29 percent shiraz, and the rest merlot. Sexy mid-palate, where the shiraz really rounds out the flavor; it’s still got loads of sharp oak, but the blend works harmoniously. The kind of wine that demands exotic meats, like elk, venison, or ostrich.

After popping corks for the Patriots and tasting however many hundreds of vintages at the Boston Wine Expo, you may be wondering what’s new in wine. Recently, I was lucky enough to attend the annual Zinfandel Festival and Tasting in San Francisco. My teeth are still purple. And I’m happy to say that zin is still in.

First, a quick disclaimer: we are not talking about white zinfandel, the sickly sweet blush wine that tastes like a fruit-soda beverage. When we say ” zin, ” we mean red zinfandel, which is almost uniquely American (of the handful of zinfandel producers outside the US, none is too successful). Often high in alcohol (rarely less than 14 percent), bold in fruit, and deep in color, zinfandel is called America’s ” heritage ” wine by the Zinfandel Advocates & Producers (ZAP), a nonprofit organization dedicated to promoting the varietal. ZAP, which throws the big tasting every year, is the informal governing body of all things zin.

Wherever zinfandel may have originated (this is in dispute, but much evidence points to Croatia “” not Italy, as some previously thought), it first came to prominence toward the end of the 19th century in California; today, 99 percent the world’s zinfandel is still grown and made in the Golden State. (Ironically, the word ” zinfandel ” was first used by Boston nursery owner Samuel Perkins in 1832, in an advertisement for cuttings of the varietal.) Zinfandel began as a popular table grape grown under glass in the Northeast; it migrated to California in the 1850s following the Gold Rush. By the 1880s, it was California’s leading wine varietal. (In 1998, zinfandel reestablished itself as California’s leading red varietal. This may be misleading, however, since the statistics include zinfandel grapes used to make the wildly popular white zinfandel, which is really a rosé.) For more info on the history of zin, visit ZAP’s Web site at www.zinfandel.org/about_zin/zindev.htm.

Outside the US, critics and drinkers are also taking to zinfandel. The British appreciate it, Aussies love it for its similarity to shiraz, South Americans like its resemblance to malbec, and even the South Africans are trying their hands at producing zin. The 1990s were particularly good to zin, which in the ’80s had been relegated to ” hobby ” wine or the white-hot hell of blush. ZAP’s first tasting, in 1992, featured the exceptional bottlings of ‘90 and ‘91. The zins of ‘92 and ‘93 were variable, but ‘94 and ‘95 were back-to-back blockbusters. The Parker-ization of American tastes was in full effect (Robert Parker, the world’s most influential wine critic, loves big, fruit-forward, powerful wines “” read: zin), the American wine industry had hit its stride, and zin became one of the big vessels in the US fleet as it sailed the great wine seas.

Hit-and-miss years were ‘96 through ‘98; many wines were overripe or too powerful. While zinfandel almost makes itself in good years, vintners sometimes overdo it and go for power and fruit over finesse. Then the wines become overwhelming, harder to pair with food, and less versatile. People liked the high-alcohol wines, and many zins seemed to become near-caricatures of themselves. Prices soared; where once you could buy exceptional zinfandels for $10 to $20, now most of the good stuff was at least $20, and many were more than $30, with cult-status wines like Turley and Martinelli costing $50-plus on release.

Today, however, the zinfandel makers seem to have righted their ships. Prices have stabilized (or dropped ever so slightly), and many producers are achieving an ever-elusive ” style. ” (Style is elusive in a winery’s early stages because it doesn’t necessarily know what to do with the fruit, or the fruit has not fully matured, or the winemaker lacks experience. European wineries often take centuries to establish their styles.) Some examples are Peachy Canyon (with its brambly, outdoorsy, approachable, laid-back Paso Robles style), Ridge (each-vineyard-is-its-own-world intellectualism, minimalism, balance, purity), Rosenblum (fruit, fruit, fruit), Turley (brute force, big oak, over the top), and Cosentino (adventurous, poetic, artistic flights of fancy). It’s good to see that, despite some less-than-stellar years, demand for zin remains strong, and the people who make and drink it still have such passion for it.

After tasting more than 150 zins from 1999 and 2000, I found ‘99 to be a pretty solid year, not quite ‘94 or ‘95, but right up there with ‘91, and ‘00 will be reminiscent of the wines of ‘90: not over-powering, but full. I like the trend of reeling in the fruit and dialing down the often-overpowering American oak. Some makers are using French oak, and not everyone feels compelled to use entirely new oak barrels for aging.

Each of the wineries I’ve mentioned (along with another favorite of mine, Cline) releases a handful of different, excellent zins. Beyond those, here are some zins that I’ve loved; most are available locally, either in restaurants or stores. If not, let your merchant know, or look online.

Acorn 1999; Amphora 2000; Benson-Ferry 2000; Bella 1999; Bradford Mountain 1999; Charter Oak 2000; De Loach OFS 2000; Easton 1999; Edmeades 1999; Joel Gott 2000; Grgich Hills 1999; Howell Mountain Vineyards 1999; Mara Reserve 1999; Marr 1999; Stryker 1999; Pezzi King Estate 1999; Seghesio 1999; Storybook 1999; Terraces 1999.