The rise of South African white blends
It seems that there's nothing like making a white blend to bring out the romantic in a winemaker. But will the wine sell? Joanne Simon discovers the philosophy, poetry and passion - not to mention potential - in a niche category.
"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I...
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference."
These lines from the famous poem by Robert Frost were the inspiration for Two Roads, the premium white blend produced at Flagstone by Bruce Jack and his team. The name - perhaps simply because it's a nice one - belonged very briefly to a Chardonnay until Jack realised that the single-varietal route was anything but "less travelled by". How much more in keeping with the sentiment expressed to do something different: to create a white blend of superior quality and complexity…
In South Africa, like most New World wine-producing countries, the focus is very much on varietal Sauvignon Blanc, for example, or Chenin Blanc or Chardonnay. There may be a growing appreciation here for red blends (perhaps because red Bordeaux is famous, unlike white Bordeaux - or perhaps it all boils down to the French Paradox that "red wine is good for you") but the perception is that if white wines are blended, it's to get rid of leftover bits and pieces or, at best, to create large amounts of entry-level wines. It's a category associated with quantity rather than top quality.
A small group of winemakers, however, is working hard to change this. What's more, some of them are not merely trying to prove that white blends are "as good as" as South Africa's best mono-varietal white wines; they believe that blends are where South Africa's potential for greatness truly lies.
"The complexities of our climate and unique, ancient geology (in soil terms we are the 'old world') have resulted in the most diverse winegrowing region in the world," says Jack. "We want to pursue the essence and intriguing complexities of our country with this wine by balancing different varieties and vineyard sites [six varieties and three areas, to be precise]. Blending Two Roads is like building a castle of whispers. Hopefully they will tell you something about the beautiful hope and the fragile majesty that makes South Africa different."
It's not so much that South Africa is different, but more the maritime climate it shares with Mediterranean countries which underpins Eben Sadie's philosophy in producing Palladius, at around R300 a bottle by far South Africa's most expensive white blend. "Continental climates can produce linear, focused, knockout wines from a single grape variety - one only has to look at regions such as Burgundy with its Pinot Noir or Piedmont with its Nebbiolo or the Mosel for its Riesling. In all of those regions the mono-varietal wines bring an abundance of complexity, structure and result in complete all-round wines with huge expression of terroir. But in the warmer Mediterranean climates people for centuries have blended different grape varieties to gain the complexity and all round structure and balance of their cooler northern counterparts."
He continues: "Unfortunately we can't move the Cape 150 miles to the south, so all we can do is find the most suitable soils and focus on grapes which have proved their agility and happiness in a Mediterranean climate, and blend them for complexity."
Sadie, admittedly, has chosen to craft his wines in the Paardeberg of the hot, dry Swartland (because of its perfect soils, he says). There are, however, considerably cooler areas in South Africa - from which most of the handful of premium white blends edge towards the style of white Bordeaux rather than the Mediterranean, perhaps simply due to the fact that there is more Sauvignon Blanc and Semillon planted here than the Marsanne and Roussanne of the Rhône, for example… never mind the likes of Rabigato or Donzelinho from Portugal or Verdejo and Viura from Spain.
Vergelegen winemaker André van Rensburg says his philosophy behind Vergelegen White is extremely simple: to make the very best white wine possible, whatever its components. His just so happen to be Schaapenberg Sauvignon Blanc and Semillon - but he is at pains to point out that "Bordeaux has a 100-110 day growing period from flowering to picking, and that's more or less the growing period I achieve here too".
He goes on: "In the classic definition of a blend, the final wine is better than any of its individual components. This quality is based on longevity, so my aim is to make a wine that will mature for at least 10 years - not just barely stay alive but actually improve long after single varietal wines have faded into obscurity."
With five-year old Vergelegen White 2001 having won the "Museum Class" trophy at this year's Old Mutual Trophy Wine Show.
Almost as famous for his ego as his acclaimed wines, Van Rensburg says that "the true purpose of blending is to make the ultimate white wine in the cellar". Likewise, instead of trotting out the old cliché that "good wine is made in the vineyard", Ian Naudé of Adoro says a blend is "a wine where you can really see the winemaker in the wine" (he uses Chenin Blanc as well as Semillon and Sauvignon Blanc to achieve "a fine balance between Old World complexity and elegance versus New World fruit and structure" in his Naudé White Blend 2006).
But Van Rensburg insists that his wines start in the vineyards. "I try to make wine that expresses that often-abused word 'terroir' and where you can taste the vintage. Our vineyards are 16 or 17 years old, so I know their intrinsic quality, and every year, from the vineyards, I have an idea of where the wine will progress."
Sadie, too, insists that "Palladius is, above all, a wine of its vineyards" and that the key is "respecting each vineyard's difference and allowing this character to emerge and to blend with other characters to achieve a higher complexity". Although he does acknowledge the "crucial effect of human intervention," he insists that "what is important to remember in vinification is that nothing of essential value can be introduced - but a great deal can be lost".
From Bruce Jack with his castle of whispers to Andre van Rensburg and his collection of trophies, the white blends category is steeped in the poetry, philosophy or at least passion of a handful of people taking the road less travelled by - and it does indeed seem to be making all the difference. "White Blends" was one of the smaller categories at the Trophy Wine Show earlier this year, but it yielded higher scores and more trophies than any other category (the above-mentioned Vergelegen White 2001 in the Museum Class, Cape Point Vineyards Isliedh 2005 for Best Wooded White Blend and Vergelegen Sauvignon Blanc 2005 - with its smidgeon of Semillon - for Best Unwooded White Blend).
There's no doubt it's an exciting category; the question is whether wine drinkers realise this. Sadie produces 5 000 bottles of Palladius and these apparently sell out within a month - albeit not locally. Likewise, Naudé says that there is huge foreign interest in South African white blends: "We travel and people tell us that there's a great niche for our white blends, but there aren't enough of them!"
So why is demand so low in South Africa? "Most people don't get it, but fortunately there is a discerning consumer out there," says Van Rensburg. Although Graça drinkers aren't likely to see any reason to start spending 10 times as much on a white blend ("Graça is one of my favourite wines," Van Rensburg hastens to add. "Surprised? Have it with seafood - it's amazing!"). However the 6 000 bottles (500 cases) of Vergelegen White produced each year are snapped up. "We sell about 300 cases locally - they fly off the shelves because the wine's reputation is so well known," reveals marketing manager Eddie Turner. "It's a harder sell in the UK where we're asking £20 a bottle. It just stands on the shelf because no-one knows what it is, but the Bordeaux whites have the same problem. In the US it also goes on the shelves sheepishly at $35 or $40 a bottle, but eventually the retailers all say it's a bargain at the price."
Bevan Newton Johnson, who looks after exports and marketing at Newton Johnson Wines in the Hemel-en-Aarde Valley, has been pleasantly surprised at how well his brother Gordon's Pour Mes Amis 2005 white blend has sold. "Pour Mes Amis is whatever wine Gordie feels like making in a given year, the idea being that our friends will drink it if nobody else does," he explains. "In 2000 it was a Pinot Noir; in 2001 it was a wood-fermented Sauvignon Blanc - a wine Gordie felt lacked a bit of broadness or fleshiness, which is where he first got the idea of combining it with some naturally fermented Semillon."
Bevan admits he was anything but encouraging: "In 2005 Gordie said he had something really special and I said no, a white blend won't sell. He made it against my advice; it sold incredibly well; and I had to go back and ask for more…"
Only 40 cases were made, retailing at R85 a bottle. "But from a marketing point of view, it's definitely something that we'll revisit - and I look forward to the day it sells like Vergelegen White," he quips.
So does the Newton Johnson example suggest that marketers don't have their work cut out as much as they may think to raise the profile of white blends? Does it really need to be spelled out that a premium white blend costs much more than a cheap white blend because it's a far superior wine? "Journalists always try to confuse the issue," concludes the inimitable Van Rensburg. "It's simple. The biggest volume cellars produce blends and the smallest volume cellars produce blends. What more do we want?"


