MICHAEL FRIDJHON: Wines that please until the day they die

Collecting wine — in the same spirit and with the same intent as, for example, collecting stamps — is a self-defeating enterprise. The moment the collection is complete you cannot drink a bottle. Anyone who buys it — and pays the premium normally attributable to completeness — acquires the same burden.

An entire line-up of every bottle of Mouton Rothschild, each with a different artist’s label — from the launch vintage of 1945 until the most recent release — is not simply the vinous equivalent of a bird in a gilded cage: it’s a bird whose mortality gathers momentum with each passing year. A well-stored bottle of the 1945 might still give drinking pleasure, but not the 1946 or the 1963 or the 1965. And in very little time nor will even the best vintages of the 1950s, the 1960s and the 1970s.

Part of the joy of wine is its transience, its capacity to evolve and give pleasure in its various stages of maturity. The best reds pass from an initial primary fruit stage, the berries and cherries of the taste descriptions on the back labels, through to the more earthy secondary and tertiary notes of “forest floor”, and mushrooms and truffles. The age-worthy whites — mainly chardonnay, riesling, semillon and chenin blanc — follow a similar trajectory: first citrus or tropical fruit notes, then smokier, more layered flavours of baked biscuit and tarte tatin.

Maturing wines that have the potential to evolve in bottle requires money, cellar space and, of course, the elapse of time. Modern homes don’t necessarily have suitable storage. In Europe the problem is more acute — unless you happen to have inherited an old pile in Hampshire or a chateau in the French countryside. For people with money there are always options. In Britain disused mines have been converted to commercial storage, in Hong Kong there are state-certified temperature-controlled warehouses. In SA, Wine Cellar offers the service in Cape Town.

Despite St Paul’s enthusiasm for older wines, modern consumers have come to prefer the primary fruit flavours. Many have never encountered the transformation that takes place over time. Those who suddenly come across a bottle well advanced on the plateau of maturity don’t necessarily like what they taste. The aromas are alien, offering no compensation for the absence of bright primary fruit notes. If you’re accustomed to brash personalities, it can be hard to tell the difference between the strong silent types and those who have nothing to say.

Some wines can give pleasure pretty much from the moment they go to bottle until the day they die. Modern-style cabernet blends set out juicy and showy, harmonise over time, and acquire restraint and polish after years in bottle. The Vilafonté Series C — from any vintage — delivers instant accessibility, while the aged releases reveal a horizon that extends beyond two decades. Incidentally Vilafonté was judged top producer at this year’s International Wine & Spirit Competition.

This rule applies to most of our benchmark cabernets and bordeaux blends: Rubicon, Sophia, Taaibosch, Paul Sauer, Neil Ellis Jonkershoek, Le Riche, Morgenster’s Reserve, Warwick Blue Lady, Simonsig’s The Garland Delheim Grand Reserve, Tokara’s Director’s Reserve, Boekenhoutskloof Stellenbosch, Keet First Verse, De Grendel Rubaiyat and Rustenberg Peter Barlow, to name but a few.

This holds equally true for great Cape chenin. I’m thinking of Ken Forrester’s FMC, which is good for at least 15 years and gets better all the time, but also the more recent releases of Sadie’s Mev Kirsten, Alheit’s Magnetic North, DeMorgenzon’s Reserve Chenin, Steytler’s Kliprug and The 1947, Stellenrust, Botanica Mary Delany and Mullineux Granite.

With chardonnay, it’s important to know which wines have been built for the long haul. Those that are overly plush and pretty in their youth don’t always stay the course, while those that are too lean and green sometimes never get out of the starting blocks. My shortlist includes Ataraxia (some of the earliest vintages are immortal), Kershaw, Hamilton Russell, Cluver Seven Flags, Meerlust, Talana Hill, Dewetshof, Jordan, Iona, Bouchard Finlayson, Capensis and Storm.

This column originally appeared in Business Day.