So when he bought this piece of Helshoogte real estate, you knew there would be action and that the action would be worth a look. It’s a corner of the Cape with some pedigree. Thelema and Tokara are immediate neighbours, and Zorgvliet is another rich man’s plaything with a state-of-the-art cellar. Today there’s a lot going on at Delaire, from a total revamp of the cellar and vineyards to the building of a luxury hotel and restaurant. It’s a building site at the moment, but there are no flies on this project. Chris Kelly has been appointed as winemaker, and he’s been told in no uncertain terms that his goal is to make a wine that ranks among the world’s best. Kelly has settled on a very ambitious time-frame of ten years to achieve this.

One expects the new Delaire range to be frightfully expensive. Kelly, who was one of the first Cape winemakers to explore the idea of the flagship white blend with the Kumkani VVS (Viognier, Verdelho, Sauvignon Blanc) will be heartened by the range of whites he has on the farm – and the prices that flagship white wines are being put into the market at these days. For example, Steenberg have just launched their Magna Carta at R395. Steenberg is backed by the deep pockets of mining magnate Graham Beck, so taking these risks with the market is mitigated. Delaire will be in much the same position to make a few statements, and word has it Graff is not shy to make a few.

Leading the new wave with confident energy and now world-famous wines is Eben Sadie, who makes his Palladius white blend solely from Perdeberg grapes. A good portion of his red blend, Columella (the 2005 was the highest rated South Africa wine ever in US Wine Spectator magazine), also comes from these slopes. For Sadie, a good wine is assessed by its structure, not its obvious fruit. The Perdeberg vines, with their age, give him this structure in spades, and their granitic composition preserves the natural acidity of the grape – and natural acidity is far superior to added acidity for a wine’s balance.
The Palladius 2006 comes across as a beguilingly soft wine, but its lingering persistence and mineral heart give you an idea of what role provenance can play in making individualistic wine. It’s a solid wine without being at all hard, and its consistency in the palate is fantastic. Difficult to find, expect to pay around R349 in fine wine shops. If Palladius is unavailable, get hold of some of his Sequillo 2006 white (R165). Again a white blend from the same soils, this time lower on the slopes, the result is a more accessible style of wine.

Other wines to seek out are the Lammershoek Roulette 2005, a blend of Shiraz, Carignan, Grenache, Mourvèdre and Viognier that packs a sophisticated punch and the Black Rock White 2006. The latter is made from old vines; it’s an intense blend of Chenin Blanc, Chardonnay and a little Viognier. On the reds, the Scali Syrah 2005 is herbal and lithe and even though it carries the structure of the area, this wine proves that Shiraz does not have to be fruit soup. Vondeling Baldrick Shiraz 2007 is a lightly wooded wine with an exuberantly spicy palate that’s fresh and delicious. If famous brands are your game, the David Frost Par Excellence 2003 is a modern wine of great intensity, still very much in its youth. Contact (021) 869 8655 or visit www.voorpaardeberg.co.za for more on these wines.

Alcohol gives, for a while, and then it takes away, for a much longer while. But its dangers are well-known, and people habitually play with its fire – we’ve been drinking alcoholic beverages of some description for millennia. But there are other perils, some of them potentially new, in wine.

Over the summer season, I tend to drink more white wines and especially the fresh whites like Sauvignon blanc, Chenin blanc and blended whites. On more than one occasion, after having had a half bottle of a fresh white, I wake up the next morning with a sore head and the irritation that the dull ache is a gross mismatch to the relatively moderate amount of wine consumed.
Some white wines do it; others don’t, so clearly some have been made in a way that affronts my system, while others haven’t. First off, it’s notable that this is a problem with fresh, unwooded and newly-released wines, not in wood-matured wines. Since I know that all wines get a sulphur dose prior to bottling, which dose is then absorbed in the wine over time, my first suspicion would be the levels of sulphur in the wines, which can vary significantly.

Sulphur has been used in wine-making for centuries, all the way back to the Romans. It’s a preservative, an anti-oxidant, preventing oxygen from robbing the wine’s flavours. I have never been a sulphur alarmist. I know that products that are high in sulphur can be terrible for asthmatics, but I also know that wine is much lower in sulphur than fruit juices or dried fruit, and no-one talks of a prune headache. Studies show that less than one percent of people actually have a physical intolerance to sulphur.
So that’s probably not it. Another suggestion made to me by a winemaker is that the cause is the histamine level in some wines. As he explained, when the flavours of white wines are “artificially” enhanced through processes like reverse osmosis (yes, it happens here in our wine lands), the histamine levels spike and can cause nasty allergic side effects.

I now think I should keep a diary of offenders. Wouldn’t it be interesting to collate hundreds of drinker’s lists and see whether common culprits begin to emerge?

*There’s a fascinating evening planned at Aubergine restaurant on 9th February. The wines of Loosen, Niepoort and Sadie with a 7 course dinner. Contact info@rieslingclub.co.za for more.

How difficult can it be to hold the bottle in front of you and spell the name right? It is also the case that the vintage is an arbitrary number on the bottle for many wine lists (although its omission often also unmasks the restaurants intention to list the wine in perpetuity for convenience’s sake).

Lists made up solely of big brands show a complete lack of imagination when it comes to wine, or a simple lack of interest. With no-one on the floor with the knowledge to sell the bottles, you don’t want to sit with relatively unknown labels. Play it safe. The disparity is most glaring when the menu declares its intention to dazzle you with culinary delight. Adjectives abound, organic is flaunted, and prices soar. The wine list hobbles along, shackled by “Cape Rieslings” and dried out reds.

A few weeks ago, at Franko’s in Plettenberg Bay, I was faced with a menu that declared its intention never to overcook fish again and to bring me Spanish tomatoes and Danish feta with young asparagus. I accepted, and turned to the wine list that suggested it was solely founded on the superb wines of Franschhoek, which was a brave and rather curious start. Turns out it wasn’t even true. Between Ashton Winery’s humble offerings, Springfield’s usual offerings and Thelema’s top end offerings, I think there may have been two Franschhoek wines.

In the mood for a good red, there seriously was no choice on this list except the priciest Thelemas. So perhaps the establishment got what it wanted, but I was immediately suspicious of the whole experience. Wine lists tell you about detail, and that is famously where the big man is supposed to reside.

By contrast, the eccentric and sparkly Firefly Eaterie in Knysna has a list that was clearly selected by persons that wanted to bring variety and joy to the diner, at decent prices. The less obvious list perhaps forces the staff to have to work a little harder, but this means more time with the diner, more interaction, and probably a more satisfying dining experience. The wine list – how it is selected, presented and served – tells you a good deal about the true intentions of the establishment and what you, the diner, mean to it.