According to SAWIS statistics, Sauvignon Blanc constitutes about 20% of South African white cultivar plantings, but SAWIS has clearly not gone into a middle-class restaurant in Cape Town in summer. There you will find a couple of oak fiends sipping on Chardonnay and perhaps one wine buff forcing down an old vine Chenin Blanc which they felt compelled to order because it has a five-star rating (and is no doubt seriously concentrated, peachy and delicious), but which is hard work at lunch time and too intense for everyone else at the table. And for the rest… You got it: Sauvignon Blanc.
Why? Well, it tastes like summer, often with exotic top notes of tropical fruit – passion fruit, pineapple, mango – but on a bedrock of green notes that shout “fresh flavours here” really loudly (common terms: fresh cut grass, pea shoots, asparagus, green bell pepper). And then there’s the acid: stand on Kilimanjaro on tippy toes and point up...Where your finger is, is about right. And in its purist expression, it is usually fermented cool in stainless steel and released young, with no complicating oaky, yeasty or aging flavours, which are great with food, but not what you want when you are hanging and chatting and keeping things light. Which is what people do in Cape Town in the summer. Oh, and (look away, wine lovers) those punchy tropical flavours and high acid can survive the occasional ice bath.
But despite the derision of the cognoscenti, who put Sauvignon Blanc in a bucket with Prosecco ("And what’s wrong with that?!" I hear on the easterly wind passing through London), I would like to convince you that it deserves further exploration. As a disclaimer, I must excuse any generalisations and/or omissions – there isn’t space to be fair and/or comprehensive, plus it’s fun dissing New Zealand, which I am about to do. The New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc franchise is one of the greatest global marketing successes in any industry and if you like the style, there are some really good ones. But to me they are like a South African Sauvignon Blanc doing the haka, with a lot of unnecessary shouting. I would look elsewhere – three places in particular.
You can’t ignore the eastern Loire, home of the most famous old-world Sauvignons, in particular in Sancerre and Pouilly-Fumé (not to be confused with Pouilly-Fuissé, which is a Chardonnay from Burgundy). Now, word of warning, for decades those two wines have been at the top of every pub white wine list in the UK and every restaurant white wine list in non-wine producing countries everywhere else, so most of it is an excuse to charge a lot for crap. If you don’t know what you are ordering and the "sommelier" can’t get you past "it’s from France" – avoid! But if you are in a position to spoil yourself a little (François Cotat) or a lot (Didier Dagueneau), you are in for a treat. Wines that justify the hard-to-pin down term "minerality", where you really can taste the difference between the types of stone in the varying soils. They can be savoury, flinty, smoky and fresh, but are not overblown. You may miss the tropical fruit you get in the New World, but that means they are much more versatile with food, working with fish and vegetables. For me, hake and papaya is not a thing.
One that may surprise you is Italy. For many that means the Veneto ("Prosecco!!!" – shut up), but I’m leaving that for now. I’m talking about Alto-Adige – the very south of Germany. Italy. Germany. Not sure. Well, it’s Italy, the very north, but it’s very German in many of its wine traditions. Take a look at a lot of the names and bottles from there and you will get it. But, wow, do they make delicious Sauvignon Blanc. And, unlike the Loire, you’re on pretty safe ground, even if you don’t know all the producers – even with large cooperative wines like St Michael-Eppan, the standards are high. If your mortgage hasn’t just taken a 25bp knock, try Terlano’s Quartz or Elena Walch’s Castel Ringberg for delicious examples of partly barrel-aged Sauvignon for a special occasion.
But I will save my last shout out to a South African Sauvignon Blanc I recently tasted. If anyone who has made it this far is a wino in South Africa, they will know Bruwer Raats. He is famous for producing Cabernet Franc and Chenin Blanc of great quality at a range of price points, and collaborating on the Mvemve Raats wines at a price point that usually involves deliberation (but is worth it). Perhaps less known (for now) is his nephew, Jasper – also an exceptional winemaker making wines at Longridge and in his own name. He makes a single vineyard, old vine Sauvignon Blanc from the Helderberg under the label Driefontein Blanc. Now, red alert, this is not really for 35 Celsius and ice. It is big, flamboyant, full of citrus curd, spice, and exotic fruit. It spends a year aging in old oak. But it’s somehow still bright and light on its feet. It won’t have you sitting in the corner with the Chenin Blanc guru filled with quiet regret.
It’s late winter now in South Africa. If you thought there wasn’t a wine that has enough of summer to make you smile, but enough depth not to feel like it forgot its jersey in the cellar, this may be the wine for you. Until we can get back to summer (and ice).