Enraptured
Enraptured
New editor Cathryn Henderson explains how she came to love wine.
My fascination with wine extends far beyond appreciating great taste sensations. A whole new realm awaited me when I traversed the doorway of Oddbins, London, some years ago. Before I knew it, a simple purchase of a bottle of wine for a dinner party opened a multifaceted world.
Sweeping above me, ample sections were divided, not just by country, but by numerous regions like "Mendoza", "Rioja", "Languedoc- Roussillon". My immediate reaction of enthrallment was followed by - but why?
With burgeoning curiosity, I realised I had found intrigue beyond a "hobby", and the obvious move was to complete some courses with the Wine & Spirit Education Trust. So began my continuing expedition to discover just why this wine world is exactly that: a world unto itself. With so many different territories, methodologies, talents, nuances, and the sheer delight of experience, a single sip can become a veritable journey that delivers many revelations along the way. Of course part of its essence, and in part answer to my initial question, is the significance of this concept of regionality.
Traditionally "terroir" is the idea of a particular grape variety, grown in a specific territory and soil type, in a certain climate, all of which impart characteristics detected in the final product. It's a captivating moment when the aroma or taste of a wine conjures up its origin.
In SA, our "territories" are denominations known as regions, districts and wards, where the French, for example, have communes, villages and chateaux. Our marked difference is that we distinguish grape varietal on our labels; the Old World to date does not.
The original controlled naming scheme known simply as "Appellation Contrôlée" came about when French vineyards suffered near devastation from diseases and pests accidentally introduced during the 19th century.
Supply did not keep pace with the demand for fine wine and, at times, all kinds of fermented juice (including vegetable!) was added to make up bulk. Fraud was rampant, hence government intervention through regulation to prevent malpractice and increase quality. It has certainly achieved its purpose, with quality and the pride within the wine industry speaking for themselves.
At the same time, there is an argument against becoming "terroir-ist." Market competition, particularly from New World wines, has led many French producers to protest against the stringency of the laws. Consumers are willing to learn what's behind the label of a number of French wines, but not the hundreds of appellations which can appear mystifying.
I feel that our local concept of regionality, with our "Wine of Origin" stamp, has merits from both worlds. As consumers, it adds a dimension to our drinking pleasure and purchase, and it upholds standards. I note the increase in questions people are asking about climate or soil during their tastings at wineries, and that the general level of information provided at some of the tasting rooms has risen. For me, it all adds to the allure of the wine experience, which I'm looking forward to exploring with you.
While seeking the meaning in everything can become an intense process, it has contributed to the evolution of wine, and perhaps is a factor at play in the distinctive flavours our territories are increasingly becoming renowned for. Wine is really not just a beverage; it becomes a lifelong experience. So in salute to the maturity of time - and to busty reds, stalwart whites, budding blanc de noir and celebratory sparkling - let's raise our glasses to a full and robust 2010.
