The impact of wine lists

The impact of wine lists
Wine lists are vital, but they don’t have to be formal. Len Maseko takes a look at the wine lists at the heart of some of Soweto’s eateries.

Could Plato have had restaurant wine lists in mind when he mused, “The beauty of style and harmony and grace and good rhythm depends on simplicity”? Nothing can beat the suspenseful pleasure that precedes the arrival of the treasure trove that is a restaurant wine list. Just the process of elimination that punctuates the exercise of choice in the maze of vinous offerings can induce something resembling a gambler’s joy at the sight of slot machines.

Well, sometimes when doing rounds in eating places in Soweto, the first challenge is to find it. You need not take matters any further if your request to see the wine list is met with an opaque look on your waiter’s face. Rather, for your own peace of mind, ask him to bring you two or three bottles of wine – either in the low or high price range, depending on your taste and budget – from which to make your final selection. While the waiter is away, you might want to take a deep breath in anticipation of a price that is often way out of kilter with what is generally charged by other restaurants of the same standing.

Some time ago, at Soweto Junction in Dube, I was offered a bottle of Chateau Libertas for R150, which instantly prompted me to order a bottle of mineral water instead. Wine list? I was told there was none. I have never been back since. As they say, the heart doesn’t crave what it doesn’t see. At the bustling Sedibeng club-like restaurant, the neatly packed bottles of wine on the bar’s shelves are the nearest thing there is to a wine list. The way to order is just by pointing out your choice at the bar – in much the same way as a victim pointing at the suspect during an identification parade.

But all is not really lost... that is, not if you have time to visit the famous Vilakazi Street in Orlando West – historically home to the Mandelas and Archbishop Desmond Tutu, and now Nambitha and Sakhumzi restaurants. Nambitha’s wine list is about the most organised I have seen anywhere in Soweto. This impressive list begins with white wines, starting with light and moving through dry, fruitier, mediumbodied moderately oaked to full-bodied and richly oaked. Along with the names of the wines, there are succinct, simple descriptions that evoke the wines’ character and personality. Nambitha’s forte is its formidable consignment of boutique reds, which include a few organic wines. A favourite bubbly among customers is the Glen Carlou Grand Classique, and you can expect to pay between R900 and R5.000 for top Champagnes.

By contrast, Sakhumzi’s listings are middle-priced offerings averaging R160. The list is dominated by tried-and-tested South African favourites, with a base price of R50. Diners are offered some pricey Champagnes in the form of Dom Pérignon and Veuve Clicquot. True, there can never be a substitute for a list that is not only lucid and expansive but also one that categorises local offerings and their international counterparts in a way that ignites the imagination while the finger slides down in search of a singularly special wine.

That is unless a restaurant can – in the absence of a wine list – oblige one with the honour of walking into its cellar and, while savouring the vinous treasure, induce the wonderment of a mosquito wandering in a nudist camp.