PeoplE fall into wine in the strangest ways. We've all heard stories about English couples who've succumbed to the romance of some ancient French chateau surrounded by vineyards. Kind of understandable. But who in their right mind would start a winery from scratch with no cash, no premises, no vineyards . . . and no experience either? An unstoppable South African mother and daughter team, that's who.
Four-and-a-half years ago, Fran Botha was a high-flying financial journalist in Cape Town. Her mother Irene Von Holdt had just taken early retirement in her career as a medical technologist. "We hadn't seen each other for ages so we arranged to get together for a picnic on the beach," Fran explains. "My mother brought a delicious chicken salad with a bottle of chilled white wine and we sat in the evening sun, watching the whales go past in the bay. It was all very Cape." So far, so idyllic. Wait for the life-transforming bit. "Mum starting talking about Chenin Blanc, and how sad it was that nobody in South Africa treated it seriously. It was bulk wine when it had the potential to be quality wine. I said, `Why don't you do something about it?"'
Irene Von Holdt was such a fervent wine enthusiast that she had become a Cape Wine Master - the South African equivalent of our Master of Wine. She had never worked in the wine industry, however. But to a woman of formidable energy and determination, that was apparently no deterrent - especially with a feisty daughter egging her on. "I made her an offer," Fran recalls. "I suggested that if she could organise the whole project, I would finance it." That was in November 1994. By February, while Fran Botha played the stock market, "more aggressively than I've ever played it in my life", to raise the necessary funds, Irene had sourced top-quality Chenin Blanc grapes from old vines, rented cellar space at the well-known estate Vergelegen and signed up a Cape winemaker, Cathy Marshall. "We were looking for a lateral thinker, so our winemaker had to be a woman," Fran Botha says with only the merest trace of a mischievous grin.
In the weeks before their first vintage was quietly bubbling away, the three-woman outfit set about tasting good Chenins from various countries in order to decide on a style. "We wanted it to be quite extracted, leesy, with very ripe fruit and superb structure. We also wanted it to improve with bottle maturation. But it was to bear the stamp of the Cape - not be a Loire lookalike."
The key - as you'll guess from the winery's name, Old Vines - was to draw on the concentrated flavours of grapes from 20to 70-year-old vines. Not just to make a terrific wine, but to realise Irene Von Holdt's ambition of raising the profile of South African Chenin Blanc across the board. "Even though Chenin accounts for 30 per cent of our national vineyard, old vines were never valued or protected," Fran Botha explains. "The small quantities of grapes they produced were just sold to the co-op along with a pile of inferior grapes. But we wanted the farmers to have a sense of pride about them." Not easy, when red grape prices - three times higher than white - were a powerful incentive to rip up the old, low-yielding Chenin vines and put them on the bonfire. In those early days there were hairy moments. "I nearly killed mum for getting 15 tonnes of grapes instead of 12 for that first vintage," Fran recalls. "I remember screaming, `You can't do this to me - you're throwing all my sums out.' We had plenty of sleepless nights." And short nights with the dead sleep of exhaustion. Still with her day job in journalism, Fran was getting up early to deliver orders and staying up late to catch up on bookkeeping. "Or I'd crawl home around midnight, having hosed down a cellar. And mum was up half the night during the vintage, like a broody hen. For two years it was nightmare stuff."
As the only female-run winery in the new South Africa (where women are considered a disadvantaged group) at least they qualified for a special tax break. But what really kept them going was the adrenalin rush of success. Released in October 1995, their first wine sold out within three weeks. Fran readily admits that had more to do with how it looked than how it tasted.
Determined that their super-Chenin should stand out from the crowd, the Old Vines trio had decided to put it in a smart blue bottle and baptise it Blue White. Although this may prove tricky in export markets, where blue wine bottles evoke uphappy memories of nasty German plonk, it was a brilliant marketing stroke in South Africa - utterly different from anything wine buyers had seen before.
It looks so good, this wide cobalt bottle with its classic, scripted label, that I bet even the Germanically-wary will soon greet it with the sort of positive response that Dublin Master of Wine Dermot Nolan encountered in a Cape restaurant. "I knew Fran and liked Blue White, so I ordered a bottle. The waitresses were raving about what a good wine it was. Then they said, `You know what's really great about it? It's made by women."' The London wine merchants Corney & Barrow have recently decided to sell it in their network of wine bars.
Fran Botha has been working full-time for Old Vines since mid-1997. "Most people say, `Put your money where your mouth is', but I thought I'd better put my mouth where my money was," she says wryly. "I'd invested so much by that stage." She still freelances for Business Report, South Africa's leading financial daily, besides writing a wine column for Investors' Club magazine. Her mother Irene isn't exactly idle, either. Thrilled by what Old Vines has achieved with Chenin Blanc, she is now investigating red and sparkling wine possibilities.
"It's hard, being an all-woman team in a male-dominated industry," Fran points out. "You have to put up with a lot of comments - some people saying girly this and girly that, others calling us lesbians." She may look glamorous and smile sweetly, but, boy, is this no girly airhead, chaps. What you glimpse in Ms Botha is resolve with as much steel about it as a fermentation tank. "It's attitude that counts," she says quietly. "You can make anything work, you know. You've just got to stick to your guns and not let little things get in your way."
Here endeth today's lesson. Career change, anyone?
Chenins to get serious about . . .
Blue White Chenin Blanc, Old Vines, Stellenbosch, 1997 (Redmonds Ranelagh, Higgins Clonskeagh, McCabes and Kielys Mount Merrion, DeVine Wines Castleknock, Roches Baltimore and some other outlets, usually £6.99) I enjoyed the story, loved the bottle . . . but after all this build-up would I like the wine? Yes, yes! This is Chenin Blanc with attitude - at a great price. See Bottle of the Week.
L'Avenir Chenin Blanc, Stellenbosch, 1997 (Dunnes Stores, £7.49). Another fat, mouth-filling South African. Lemons, passion fruit, pineapple - they're all in there together in a well-made wine with a fresh attack, super texture and a long, citrussy finish. A great main course white for Pacific Rim food.
Chateau Gaudrelle Vouvray, 1997 (Raheny Wine Cellar, Grapes of Mirth Rathmines, McCabes Merrion, Mill Maynooth, about £9.99). Why don't more people drink delicious Chenin from its Loire stronghold? Woefully neglected Vouvray is too rare a treat. Here's one to try, with that typical honey and lemon character . . .
Marc Bredif Vouvray, 1996 (Jus de Vine Portmarnock, Martha's Vineyard Rathfarnham and a few other outlets, £10.99-£11.99). And here's one more, the mere thought of which sets me salivating. A Loire classic - and an absolutely dazzling aperitif.
Millton Vineyard Chenin Blanc, Gisborne, 1996 (Bradleys Cork, Lynchs Glanmire, about £12.99). We have Kevin Parsons in Cork to thank for this unusual biodynamic Chenin from New Zealand. Again, ripe, pure fruit is the hallmark. It may remind you of lemon marmalade in the nicest possible way.
Domaine du Closel Savennieres Clos du Papillon, 1994 (SuperValu, Kilrush, Peggy Starr Kilkee, about £13.50, or direct from Doonbeg Wine Imports, tel/fax 065 55334). Stylish treat of the week. After one sip of this, I ditched plans for an evening of pasta and red wine to drink nothing else - with a hastily assembled crab salad. From a top producer, a truly exciting, complex delight.
Coming towards the end of the summer . . . The 1998 vintage of another serious South African Chenin Blanc. Jeff Grier, winemaker at Villiera - an estate well known to Irish drinkers - is a past winner of the Chenin Blanc Challenge in Wine Magazine with his version (as is L'Avenir, above). Sounds promising - and, as with Blue White, the price should be right.
Superquinn's Coloured Box wine sale runs from May 5th until June 5th, six bottles for the price of five. The wines in the promotion are categorised by colour - blue, green, red and orange, in ascending order of price (£25, £27, £31 and £37). The idea is that you either choose a pre-packed box of six bottles of the same wine at the bargain rate or pick your own selection from a particular colour group. From the swiftest of samplings, the Faugeres 1997 (cheapie blue) and the Bordeaux Superieur 1997 (top-dog orange) certainly seem tasty.
London isn't a place of pilgrimage for Irish wine buffs (unless you're one of the handful dashing off for Master of Wine tutorials). But maybe this is all set to change with the opening of the £23 million "wine experience" Vinopolis on Bankside on July 22nd. The whole world of wine under one roof, they say, with The Wine Odyssey (an interactive tour of key wine cultures), tastings, vast wine and gift store, restaurants and wine bars. For advance booking, tel 0044 870 444 4777.