Okay, so where do I start? How do I even begin to explain the fire fuzz (palate fatigue), the hangovers, the irreparable cost to my work out regime, or the amount of money that has been spent to get to this point? I think it's important to note that I have loved this journey, and that no amount of palate fatigue, breathtaking hangovers, or quickly forming muffin top would dissuade me from this path if given the choice to start it all again. Through my journey of countless tastings, I cultivated an appreciation for the art and science of winemaking. Each glass became a story – a reflection of dirt, sunshine, rain, frost, rot, the feet that stomped the grapes (in some cases), and the hands that crafted all of these elements together to put a little wine into my glass.
With this vast plethora of loopy juice passing my lips on a daily basis, I needed to find a fun way of documenting it. One that worked with easily distracted brain (and no it's not because I have drinking problem…), so this is how Virgin Vines was born.
What is Virgin Vines?
Well, identity, it seems to me, is paramount in wine. Whether we are talking about the mind-bindingly complex notion of terroir, the winemaking techniques that set winemakers apart, or how wineries tell people what's inside the bottle. The French for example (amongst other Old World wine producing countries) will tell you where the grapes were grown, and somehow expect us as consumers to just know which variety of little berries make up the juice in the bottle, and subsequently what those berries should taste like. Yes there are ways of knowing, but this makes wine a daunting subject to grasp for someone who is curious about wine beyond getting slurry at the dinner table (not that this is a problem in my eyes as I do it more often than I am willing to admit.)
Virgin Vines, for me, is both representative of my relative lack of knowledge of the ever broadening art of winemaking as well as an attempt at making wine more approachable to consumers. I've chosen to not introduce people to wines by telling them that the grapes grow on decomposed granite soils, nor that the wine had matured in 2nd and 3rd fill French barrels, because 99% of us haven't got the faintest clue what that means. Alternatively, I have introduced wines through things we all understand. Namely memories, music, personalities, and, of course, pleasure.
How to taste 1000 wines
You may be asking yourself: How does one taste 1000 wines? Well you don't do it in one sitting (because, alcohol poisoning).
I am in the very fortunate position of being the head of wines at a well respected wine retailer, Dry Dock Liquor, in Johannesburg. Part of my job is tasting and evaluating wine. I sit through up to 4-5 tastings a week, listening to various stories wineries have either developed or actually lived through in the hopes that I will list their wines in the store.
What qualifies me for the job? Who knows? I honestly have no idea how I ended up here (maybe I do have a drinking problem). But I have had a lot fun listening to these stories and drinking these wines in the process.
That being said, not all of them have been great. I have come across my fair share of Vin de Cooking along the way. But as it is with life, you will have to swallow some less than favourable sips before you get to the good gulps.
Amazingly enough, given that my focus has been predominantly boutique South African wine, I have not had to palate much in the way of Château-Dégoûtant.
What have I learnt?
After 1000 wines, surely I would have learnt something (begrudgingly). So, what have I learnt?
First and foremost, l've learnt to spit. Now that has been difficult as I consider myself a classy broad so I insist on swallowing. But losing your knickers in a professional tasting is not a good look.
The second and probably more poignant lesson I've learnt is that there will always be a lot of learning when it comes to wine.
I have learnt about more things that I didn't know I did not know, than things I thought I knew (I hope you're not reading this a couple of glasses under).
I have learnt that taste is deeply subjective, and the best wines are always the ones that link you to memories. That most times wine does not need to be analysed and awarded points by some committee for you to enjoy it. Instead, it should be poured into your favourite wine glass, and you should just experience it for what it is (if it's the blood of Christ, drink it sparingly).
It was Louis Pasteur who said that "a bottle of wine holds more philosophy than all the books in the world." So by that rationale, I suspect it would be better to over-drink than to overthink? But this is coming from some French germ enthusiast so I wouldn't take it too seriously.
Is wine really that interesting?
Recently people have been asking if I'll ever get tired talking about wine, and if wine is indeed that interesting. I'll tell you that 1000 wines has been a remarkable experience. It has been intimidating, exciting, exhausting, and an assault on the liver – but all in all it has been deeply rewarding.
Wine is more than just a beverage, its a culmination of prehistoric events (see decomposed granite soils), garish looking plants, little berries that clearly have no sense of personal space, technique, artistry and an incomprehensible amount of science.
It's the chosen beverage of Jesus himself and many a civilisation that came before him. It has been used as currency, it is symbolic of celebration (because what's a party without Champagne?), and it has the power to unite or divide a room. Why shouldn't we be interested in it?
Much like the content I have produced over the last 99 posts of my blog, wine has proven to me that through focusing on certain sensations, we can embody our wildest fantasies, our sweetest memories, and last but not least, if you drink enough of it, give you the courage to spew all the impulsive thoughts you have going on in your head, with the convenient proverbial veil of "I'm just talking about the wine."
Wines that moved me
Drinking this much wine, you’d think I’ve have some favourites, right? But there are too many to list here, and as I mentioned, my preference in wine (as yours should be) is deeply intertwined with memories, music, personalities, and pleasure.
So, here are a just few of the wines that have moved me this year (in no particular order):
The 2020 Soldaat, from Sadie Family Wines: Any of you that have read my blog would know that I have an unbridled fetish for Swartland red wine. So of course, wine from the man who pointed the first sword in the direction of the Swartland revolution must feature. I was gifted this bottle on my birthday this year and naturally had to consume it immediately. They say don’t taste your heroes (for obvious legal reasons), but I’m glad I did.
Another bottle that tickled my thighs in the most flirty way was the Silverthorn The Genie Cap Classique. This 100% Syrah brut rosé did a sultry belly dance in my mouth and filled me with fantasies of Arabian nights and number of sexually charged wishes.
Last but not least, we have the 2023 Liefkoos Rosé from Lievland. Now I don’t usually indulge in lady-petrol, but I hiked my skirt up and asked the attendant to fill me up with this beautifully juice filled orange pith bombshell of a bottle. It put flowers in my hair, and placed me in every Provençal picnic scene my wild (and questionably perverse) imagination dared to take me.
After 1000 wines, many of which made me moan "Châteauneuf-du-Papiiiii" under my breath (in Sofia Vergara voice), and a rare few that felt closer to Châteauneuf-du-Poubelle, my interest and desire to continue this incredible journey (to a saturated liver) only grows stronger. I would urge everyone to embark on similar explorations of the wine world, whether it be experimenting with new bottles or sharing your favourites with your friends (even if they are plebs, you may convert them). Taste 1000 wines then taste 1000 more. Document your experiences, and who knows? Maybe you too could misdiagnose alcoholism with a career path.
Follow Razeen's wine journey on Instagram at @virgin_vines.