In the world of wine, 25 years is little more than the blink of an eye. If you’re a producer planning to revise the mix of varieties in your range, this is the time frame required to study the market, test out the possible trends, implement the changes, and then obtain a clear result that confirms the wisdom (or otherwise) of your decision.
The same elapse of time, seen from a consumer perspective, is almost an eternity. If you think back to the turn of this century, it’s unlikely you could correctly remember what you liked drinking and how much the best wines cost. Chenin blanc, which in 1995 represented almost 29% of total plantings, had already declined to 21%. Shiraz, which in 1995 was a mere 1% of our vineyards, had climbed to 5%. The first Cape wine priced to sell at more than R100 a bottle was launched then; we all called R100 “ambitious”.
So a snapshot of the Cape wine industry in 2000 would have led you to believe that the smartest thing you could do would be to plant shiraz and grub up chenin blanc. And if you had looked at the numbers through the first decade of this century, this is pretty much what you would have seen everyone doing. Chenin plantings declined (but then quite soon stabilised). Shiraz continued to increase until, within a few years, it comprised about 10% of our total vineyard area — pretty much its peak.
Then suddenly everything was turned upside down. The chenin renaissance, which had begun in the early 1990s, started to deliver real dividends. More and more winemakers — especially newcomers to the industry — embraced the stylistic versatility of the cultivar. Many sought out the older vineyards (of which there were ample, because chenin is less prone to the viruses that afflict our red wines). That same versatility encouraged commercial growers to replant where yields were becoming uncommercial. Between 2011 and 2021 chenin’s share of the national vineyard increased from 18.2% to 18.6%.
Shiraz, on the other hand, began to decrease, slowly at first as farmers tried to make the most of what they had spent on new plantings in the first decade of the century. Lately this loss of shiraz vineyard has gathered pace as the original vineyards have reached the end of their commercial life. Still, it would be a simplification to say that all chenins are a cinch to sell and all shiraz is unsaleable.
High-end chenin is now properly established as a category, with aficionados chasing down the Standard Bank Chenin Top 10 challenge winners and everyday consumers seeking out good-value bottlings instead of entry-level sauvignons or unwooded chardonnays. Their range of choice verges on the infinite, from Ken Forrester’s Petit Chenin, McFarlane’s Monday’s Child, Mullineux’s Kloof Street, and almost any wine from Stellenrust, Zevenwacht Z, DMZ, Miles Mossop, Ahrens, L’Avenir to Aan de Doorns.
Shiraz/syrah seems to get stratospheric ratings from most critics, but often these scores don’t translate into sales. This may be an issue around stylistics. Some of the edgier producers chase the pepperiness with which the variety is identified in the northern Rhone, while others seek out the bigger, richer, oakier southeastern Australian style. The Mullineux’s single-site wines from the Swartland, Trizanne’s Elim Syrah, and Reenen Borman’s Boschkloof tend towards the French style.
Some of the long-established Cape producers have evolved a flavour profile midway between the Rhone and Barossa. Charles Back, who has been producing shiraz at Fairview for the better part of half a century, makes a number of different renditions, some single-site (Eenzaamheid, The Beacon and Lanner Hill) as well as a straight Fairview and Fairview Cyril Back.
Rust en Vrede’s Estate Syrah is another fine example in the full-bodied but not overdone style. If you’re ready for an example that compares to the more robust antipodean versions, though still with finely managed fruit and great intensity, you can’t beat the Boschendal Grande Syrah and the shiraz-based Black Angus blend.
This article was first published in Business Day.
