Garden Route Shiraz 2011: Easy drinking, somewhat enigmatic…

2011 Garden Route Shiraz, made from grapes grown in the Outeniqua wine ward

“Location: Calitzdorp • Map: Klein Karoo & Garden Route • WO: Durbanville/Outeniqua • Est/1stB 2008” reads the entry in Platter’s 2012 for Garden Route wines.

The bottle in my hand reads “Garden Route Shiraz 2011, Wine of origin Outeniqua” on the front label. The Platter entry lists the 2007 Shiraz, made from Durbanville grapes, noting that the 2011 Shiraz is made from grapes grown in the Outeniqua wine ward, one of the newer wine wards to emerge in the Southern Cape in the last few years. It’s all thoroughly confusing really. What happened to the ’08, ’09 and ’10 vintages I wonder. Where did the grapes come from ? Or did they just not get made?

The wines (I received the 2011 Shiraz and 2012 Sauvigon Blanc via courier a couple of weeks ago)  are made at De Krans in Calitzdorp, by the redoubtable Boets Nel, he of De Krans Port fame. Aside from a slew of competition honours, half the De Krans page entry in Platter’s is a solid block of red type, indicating 4 1/2 and 5 star wines, testimony to the winemaking prowess of Boets, and not just in the port and dessert wine stakes. The 2010 Touriga Nacional and the 2006 Redstone Reserve, a blend of Touriga and Cab Sauv, both crack 4 Platter stars.

So it’s entirely reasonable to expect that he should be able to put together a credible Shiraz, which if you taste the 2011, you may well agree he has done. Okay, I don’t believe it’s a 5 star wine, but it is entirely drinkable, inky garnet in colour, with a dense black fruit nose of plums and blackberries on vanilla and earthy spice notes.

The palate speaks of surprisingly dense black fruit, with cracked black pepper notes, underpinned by gentle oak and a vanilla edge. The fruit is mouthfilling, juicy and is balanced by pleasing acidity, the tannins very soft and gentle for a 2011 wine. Ten months in 2nd and 3rd fill French barrels make for well integrated oak. I don’t believe it’ll last for ever, but I doubt it’s meant to. It’s a typical cool climate wine, with bright juicy fruit, made to drink young.

I drank it with a very mild chicken curry, not the ideal pairing I admit, but it was passable good nonetheless. It’ll do well with a traditional roast, beef or lamb, and it’ll also do great with a slab of steak, or with a typical South African braai.

Drinking well now, it retails at R92 a bottle. The 2007 gets 3 1/2 Platter stars, and the 2011 cracked best Shiraz at the Klein Karoo Young Wine Show that year.

Carl Schultz on Shiraz

Carl Schultz in the cellar at Hartenberg with a glass of his fine Shiraz

The first time I listened engrossed while Carl Schultz spoke about wine was about a year ago. The occasion was a dinner and tasting of 11 South African Rieslings. A notoriously difficult grape from which to make a good wine in South Africa, Carl’s discourse about the varietal, its origins, the difficulties a winemaker faces in working with it, its the peculiarities, what happens when it ages, and his reflections on the great Rieslings he has tasted over the years (it is evident from his reflections that he has travelled widely in pursuit of his understanding of Riesling), gave me the most remarkable insights. In short, I learned much that evening.

Libertè, egalitè, fraternitè! The Franschhoek Bastille Festival

the revellers celebrate freedom in true French style by raising a glass

Eppie and I were well and truly muffled up when we left Somerset West for Franschhoek on Saturday. With the hint of winter’s steel in the sunbathed air justifying the layers, we were looking most forward to a day in Franschhoek, celebrating everything that is French, but particularly the sentiment of freedom that has become synonymous with what happened at Le Bastille on that fateful day in 1789 when the rabble of Paris stormed the hated symbol of the French monarchy, and started the French Revolution.

As we approached the “French Corner”, winter’s cold white footprints were clearly evident on the surrounding mountains, further affirmation of the Michelin-man mode of dress we had adopted.