(Part three of my South African wine and travel report; click here for part two, and here for part one.)

The consensus among South African vintners is that the future of wine in South Africa depends on how gracefully it can ditch its past – and by past they mean not only the vestiges of apartheid but, ironically, ZA’s indiginous grape, pinotage. This odd little red variety was invented by a professor at Stellenbosch in 1925 by crossing pinot noir, the noble grape behind France’s great red Burgundies, with cinsaut, the fertile vine responsible for oceans of plonk washing forth from the south of France and Algeria at the time. Presumably, the hope was to capture the delicate flavors of the former variety and the disease-resistant adaptability of the latter.

The frankenvines that arose from this experiment did go forth and multiply in South Africa. But the wine they produce is no Romanée Conti: instead, it is a full-bodied and fruity drink, typically showing brambly, peppery elements. Weirdly, the tell-tale flavor note of pinotage is ripe banana. If great care isn’t shown in the cellar, the wine can develop off-putting, bitter tastes.

Pinotage rightfully claims to be South Africa’s “native” variety, and some wineries – notably Beyerskloof and Kaapzicht – are showing their pinotage pride by giving the rustic grape the TLC they believe it deserves, with undeniably tasty results. But plantings of the vine peaked in 2001 and, for the most part, vineyard managers have been pulling and replanting since.

The other skeleton in ZA’s viticultural closet is bad chenin blanc. The most widely planted variety in the country, chenin is sometimes capable of making delicious, sought-after whites, especially in the Loire valley of France. But until recently, most of the chenin that was vinified in ZA led to simple, characterless quaffers. Underrated and underappreciated, it just isn’t the greatest grape on which to build an international reputation.

Enter syrah (or shiraz, as some South Africans call it, after their Aussie neigbors across the Indian ocean). Considered the great red hope of South Africa’s wine making industry, syrah is a heat-seeker of a vine, so it thrives under the African sun. Covering almost ten percent of the vineyard area, it’s the second-most planted red grape in ZA next to cabernet sauvignon. At its current new-plantation rate – acres under vine nearly quintupled since 1997 – syrah just may surpass King Cab as the ruby-red jewel in South Africa’s crown.

It’s hard to describe the style of South Africa’s syrah. Its rise to prominence has been so recent and swift, there is still a lot of diversity. But I’d have to say that from what we tasted, philosophically South African winemakers are not in general looking east toward Australia, where shiraz has made such a splash, but north toward France’s Rhone river valley, syrah’s ancient homeland. Rather than plush, purple fruit bombs, they are aiming for wines with a little more finesse and a lot more emphasis on the earthy, meaty elements that syrah will lend to a wine from, say Côte Rotie or Hermitage. True, South African syrahs are no shrinking violets (though we smelled some violets in the beautiful garden at Waterford Estate’s, pictured above): the hot climate of the Cape tends to ripen any grape to its maximum, thus rendering high-alcohol, richly-flavored wines. But still, we are not in the land of pure blueberry and licorice jam-in-a-glass. This is slightly more serious business.

Otherwise, the trend in red wine has been (as in California) toward cabernet and cabernet-based blends, some of them with semi-luxury price tags and “proprietary,” fancy-sounding names à la Napa’s Insignia. We also enjoyed quite a few “Cape Blends,” which are unique to South Africa and consist of international varieties like cabernet and syrah, blended with pinotage. It seemed to be a great way of making use of South Africa’s native grape while allowing the more recognizable, better quality grapes to support (and help hide its flaws). Considering pinotage’s declining popularity in ZA, the Cape Blend may become harder to find, so we bought and consumed it when we could.

Finally, the most pleasant surprise we sipped during our sojourn in South Africa was, believe it or not, sparkling wine. A good glass of crisp, dry bubbly turned out to be the perfect refreshment while one is sitting alfresco in the country’s Mediterranean climate. Also, the flexibility of sparkling wine can be handy when it comes to pairing a glass with to the local cuisine, a challenging mélange of seafood, farm-raised meats, and grilled game, all articulated with a heavy southeast Asian accent. I’m surprised there hasn’t been more done locally in this category. In South Africa, sparkling wine is called Méthode Cap Classique or MCC, and Graham Beck, JC le Roux, and Villiera are good winery names to look for. Villiera, in fact, has a lovely tasting patio and their MCC is the perfect way to wake up your palate at the beginning of a day’s trek through South African wine country.

For part one of my South African wine and travel report, click here.
For part two, click here.
For my reports on individual wineries and tasting notes, click here.