I’ve never been a fan of South African reds.  Too often, I find they have that burnt rubber thing on the nose and a green stemmy thing going on on the palate.  Every time a wine rep comes by with one for us to taste, I expect these characteristics, hope to be proven wrong, and end up disappointed.  There’s no other region in the world that, across-the-board, turns me off in the same way.

In the latest issue of Wine Access magazine, there is a big focus on South Africa.  I barely found the energy or desire to even read most of the articles, but perked up at Tony Gismondi‘s column which explains that the majority of South African wines we see in our market do not do their region justice.  It’s a very interesting, enlightening read.

Soon after reading the issue, I received an invite to attend a seminar of South African New Releases with Wines Of South Africa‘s Education Director, Andre Morgenthal in late-July.  The wines presented will be imported especially for this event, and have never been in our market before.  There will also be an evening event for the general public announced soon, so stay tuned to Planit BC for more details…

Today, a fascinating read from the New York Times is published, explaining the South Africans’ reaction to this (very) common “burnt rubber” note that many people get from their wines.

From the article:

Indeed, for the past year vine-and-wine detectives from the department of viticulture and oenology at Stellenbosch University have been working the case. The “burnt rubber team” includes sensory scientists and analytical chemists. They taste, they sniff, they scratch their heads.

They are looking for the golden thread that ties together a single taste that was born in multiple locations. Is the problem with the root stock, the soils, the storage, the bottling, the techniques of fermentation? Gas chromatography is being used to separate wines into their chemical compounds, searching for a culprit among the molecular units.

I am officially intrigued…