Land n Sand Sep / Oct 2013 | Page 71

W hat I’ve left for last is in fact the first stop of my pinotage trip. Turning off Winery Road, three school girls stopped me, setting the tone. “Het Uncle vir ons ‘n Rand? Ons is arm.” “Ons is ook arm,” I said, not really knowing what to say, looking at my dog on the back seat for support. I handed them a handful of coins I fished out of my pocket. “Dis nog lekker warm,” I heard them say as I drove off. I was turning into The Winery of Good Hope, the makers of the Radford Dale Frankenstein I’d read about. Finally, a new style of Pinotage, something trying to awaken the long sleeping Pinot in this cross, something brave enough to sidestep the obvious attributes of this many-faced and slightly monstrous grape; for understatement and a certain guarded elegance? Viktor Frankenstein’s creation, contrary to where contemporary renditions of the story have led us, is in actual fact quite erudite and sensitive. Opening a bottle I was later to take home with me, Jacques de Klerk, winemaker at Good Hope, explained: all the unnamed monster ever wanted was to be understood and treated as any other person. What made him what he became, was loneliness. What Radford Dale is aiming to capture is exactly this kinder, never understood dimension of the grape. One might keep in mind that Mary Shelly, the true creator of Frankenstein, was herself the offspring of a strange duo: Mary Wollstonecraft and William Godwin, a women’s rights activist and an anarchist. She probably was writing about herself. Have Radford Dale succeeded? I decidedly think so. Later, back at the house of my friend with the pinotage cap, we finished the two bottles. Everyone liked the Radford Dale, but when we poured the l’Avenir, as I feared, opinions seemed to change. This is really nice, my friend said. Just as I was gathering my things to leave, he poured himself a last sip of the Good Hope wine. “You know, this wine definitely has something.” My time is up. I wish I could say more of the various new and interesting producers of pinotage, especially about a very nice pinotage duo I tasted at Stellenrust. One, the Cornerstone, depicting a more serious aspect of the grape. The other, simply extremely pleasant, as beautiful and unpretentiously nice as the unmarked winery and tasting room, and almost as friendly as the people who work there. I wish I had the time to taste the examples from Lammershoek, the pink one as much as the LAM. But I’m sure I will. I just drank my own last sip of the Radford Dale. After a day alone in the bottle, it’s still nice. Someone once accused South African wines of never delivering on the promise of the first sip. I agree. My only real judgement of a wine is always my impression of this last sip from a bottle. If I’m secretly relieved, it’s one to be forgotten. If I can’t bear to take the last sip, simply because there will then be no more, it’s one for the books. Frankenstein still has some way to go, but I struggled with my last sip. It was the most winelike pinotage I’ve ever had. (de) stemming the purple tide