There are many things to like about the kinds of places that call themselves wine bars.
More than other drinks, wine is an invitation to conversation. Asking your barstool neighbour what cocktail they may be drinking is a dead-end question, but the fruit of the vine is inevitably described thoughtfully, meanderingly — possibly even in voluptuous phrases.
At Tannin, a new Cape Town city centre wine bar, there’s much to talk about.

Art (and wine) lovers can settle in the cool, cosy corner room showcasing a mini-exhibition, or stand and marvel at the central atrium which soars up the restored heritage building’s three floors, bedecked with an eclectic array of what looks like a few hundred artworks. Immediately, I see a replica of Andy Warhol’s Marlene Dietrich; upwards to the right is a 1960s Paul Newman movie poster; higher still I note what looks like — but can’t possibly be — a Constable landscape. Maybe the venue should invest in a rolling library ladder so customers can fully appreciate the visual delights. Then again, patrons will surely admit peering towards the heavens while holding a glass of wine isn’t exactly a problem — call it a gesture of thanks to Bacchus, Dionysus, or all the gods of good living.
Rightly, however, wine is Tannin’s real centrepiece. Pleasingly, only South African producers are featured.
“I absolutely adore South African wines. I think they are among the world’s best,” says owner, Dominic Wood. “I get that some customers would like to try wines from other countries, but I think there’s such variety and quality available in South Africa that I don’t see any need to explore a global offering.”
How many wines should a good wine bar stock? Here, more is definitely more: the bar’s 20-page wine list itemises 400-plus labels, with 40 available by the glass. But a glass is rarely enough, and why visit a wine bar for just one? Problem solved as, smartly, Tannin also proffers carafes.

Such a plethora of choice necessitates a tactic: select on varietal, wine-producing region, winemaker reputation or style. Such thinking may lead to Tannin’s most unusual wine, the Sadie Family Wines Pontak, a very rare bottling from 17th-century pontac plantings now being revived — uniquely in South Africa and possibly in the world — by Eben Sadie.
A random, fun approach is to steer towards beautiful or bizarre names, such as the El Bandito Monkey Gone to Heaven, a mourvèdre by Testalonga which presumably references the Pixies’ song about the circle of life and humankind’s place in the world.
The conventional white or red starting point decision is evolving, too, because orange is the new blanc. Manager Odette Botha waxes lyrical about this relatively new viniculture concept in which whites mimic reds, the grapes left to macerate with prolonged skin contact, resulting in an amber colour and an improved, tannic structure.
In South Africa, the style is experimental, notably by winemakers in the Swartland region. One is Samantha Suddons, whose Vine Venom label is a visual oddity and more intriguing than, to my palate, the taste of the non-vintage chenin, Skin Contact. I’m intrigued, though, by Scions of Sinai’s Señor Tallos 2023, the chenin and grenache blanc blend achieving greater depth; my sense is that skins colour the liquid beautifully, but orange wines need the tallos — Spanish for stems — too.
Alternatively, go with wine as a match to the food, because Tannin is also a food destination, with a substantive menu including a selection of 15 small plates and a “big plate” of whole roasted Cape Bream with caper beurre blanc.
Bar snacks include short rib ragu spring rolls sprinkled with Parmesan, and sourdough fingers with gherkins and a rich cheese sauce — essentially a deconstructed Welsh rarebit, simple but moreish. Note to self: I’ll return in winter as these would marry well with a robust red like Flight Farm 2023 by specialist cabernet franc producer Weather Report.

More summery is the plate of Gildas, a snack originating in San Sebastián, and so properly called pintxo rather than tapa. Chef Blaine Coetzer insists on authenticity for these one-bite delights: “The only things we import are Basque chillies,” he says, referring to the guindilla peppers skewered alongside a green olive and an anchovy. Gildas are named after the Rita Hayworth character in a 1940s movie starring the fiery, bombshell redhead actress. The salty, spicy sourness puckers my mouth — pleasurably so, but I let it settle for a few minutes before returning to my Beeslaar chardonnay 2023 to properly savour the wine’s gentle ginger biscuit, vanilla and cream notes.
Chocolate with wine is one of the pinnacle victual indulgences, cocoa decadence balancing with earthiness in a sublime combination that somehow encapsulates the bittersweetness of life itself. My last sips pair brilliantly with the salted caramel and Dom Pedro truffles.

Excellent food, stylish but unfussy décor, passionately informative but unpretentious staff: unsurprisingly, Tannin is already something of a locals’ and wine community haunt, with some regulars popping in as often as four times a week, says Wood. My maths tells me they’ll work through the full list in about two years, assuming they can be coaxed out during Cape Town’s often bitter winters (the many fireplaces should help).
Still, Tannin is a shortcut through what Google says are the Western Cape’s 5,000 wine farms, cellars or producers – a distinctive, memorable place to taste widely without leaving the city.















