Changes to the tried and tested – a tasting followed by lunch – are welcome after a while, so when I got an invitation to a fashion show linked to the launch of a wine (Long Neck) and a cellular phone, off I went to see how it can be done “otherwise”.

Refreshing as it was that the crowd was big, packed with beautiful people (only in the shallowest sense, my fellow local wine writers) and that the air tingled with excitement; I began to grow uneasy when nothing had happened 45 minutes after the advertised starting time. The Long Neck wines did flow, but with the exception of the chenin blanc the whites were better than the water at the bar only because the water cost R8. The reds were remarkable in that I would be hard pressed to tell the varieties apart in a blind tasting – they were all “light red” in colour and flavour.

The fashion show saved the day, for an hour, then it was back to the nebulous and non-directed meanderings of trays of vague wines… “Why am I here?” was not existential, for once.

Over the weekend, I tried the Fairview Solitude Shiraz 2004, which is a John Platter five star wine. It deserves the accolade, one of many others for this wine. Bountiful fruit, a medium body (though packed with dense layers) and good length make this a shiraz that drinks in a most balanced and satisfying way.

A glass left standing just so even tasted great the next day at lunch time. If only more SA shiraz displayed this restraint and delicacy, instead of opting for the raging power/big alcohol model that’s preferred. The best shirazes are medium and soft, instead of heavy and jammy.

Anyway, although not as good as a Spanish bottle (at R120 or so for 750ml of Tio Pepe), this fino at R45 is a pleasant alternative.

The 1987 is also in the medium style, with pure white pepper notes on the nose and a satisfying palate weight even after 20 years. The 12,5% alcohol no doubt accounts for its structure – in the 1980s alcohols over 13% were considered pretty heady. Interesting how the tolerable alcohol level “band” has grown – with anything from 13 to 16 now on the table, and 13 considered light by its peer review.

Platter editions from the 1980s talk the Rupert-owned L’Ormarins up as a winery to take on the world, matching flash Californian spreads in majesty and wine quality. While that promise hasn’t quite materialised, it remains a quality producer, now with far fewer wines in the range.

He does make the point that SA wines are generally priced very low in the States, an indication of the esteem they are held in. The quality is there, but not the image. In fact, his article begins with a “hey, would you believe there is great chenin in SA?” tone. He also suggests, hopefully, that growers will not turn away from chenin simply because it is associated with the past, in favour of the “new” darlings of sauvignon and chardonnay, and all the reds that people have planted and still are, even though there is a glut of red on the market.

Amen to that, and good to see our chenin praised.

A group of us escaped to dinner. Pastis in Constantia, which used to be reasonable and is now a comedy of slow service and average food: “We don’t serve the mussels anymore. Too many people were getting sick and dying.” I was tempted to ask whether these unfortunate diners got to their cars or died in their seats.

Pity, since the location is superb and the outside courtyard a winner. Our saviour came in the form of the Cape Point Isliedh 2005 which was well priced. It’s a subtle wine, keeps coming at you but with a whispering insistence. Delicately wooded, fresh and tangy.