MIPTC #4 - Waterkloof Seriously Cool 2020

Welcome to yet another edition of the #MIPTC newsletter! It's crazy to think it's been a month already, and I must say I keep being overwhelmed by both the warm response I've been getting as well as the sheer number of people who decided to carve a bit of Friday morning prime time to learn and chat about wine with yours truly.

This week, we're going somewhere you might not have considered to be a top wine region, and yet very much is: South Africa.

Despite being very (very) far from most of us, South Africa is actually a powerhouse wine region making splendid wines in a great variety of styles. The roots of the South African wine industry can be traced to the explorations of the Dutch East India Company, which established a supply station in what is now Cape Town. Of course, this means they haven't been at it since Roman times like most of Europe, but trust me: they know their way around a vine! I'll explore the differences between New World and Old World wines at some point, I promise!

Now, we spoke last week of the trend of natural wines and what it concretely meant for us as wine drinkers. I might not have mentioned it before, but another very real part of this engouement is a bias towards lighter styles of wine - especially reds. The global excitement around all things natural has therefore led to a repositioning of sorts when it comes to certain varietals that had been traditionally judged as not having enough flavor or punch. For instance, the use of 100% Cinsault in this one right here was not something you would have seen a lot only 10 years ago,

Cinsault traditionally comes from the Rhône and Languedoc regions of France, and was for the longest time considered a minor blending grape which rarely got more than 50% in anything but very cheap wines. Why? Because despite having very healthy yields (i.e. Cinsault produces a big volume of fruit on the vine and extracts quite a bit of juice), it just wasn't found very qualitative. Decades were therefore spent exploiting what was perceived as its single virtue: producing affordable quaffing wines for the mass market.

With the evolution in global tastes, however, Cinsault has now become a favorite among the new generation. You can now see it pure in many regions of the new world, as well as in upcoming wine producing regions of vin de soif (literally "thirst-quenching wines) in France.

TL;DR: Cinsault wasn't cool, but the new generation has made it very much so. It is kind of the epitome of natural wine chic: fresh, light, and full of pure flavor while remaining low in alcohol. It just lacks complexity to some - including me in many instances.

All right, let's get tasting shall we?

The Skinny

• From: Western Cape, Coastal Region

• Varietals: Cinsault 100%

• Price: $19,70 CAD

• Feature: None

Tasting Notes

On the nose, you get some (very) dominant candied cherry and fresh cranberry juice aroma. There might be a hint of spice there, but it really is an afterthought: this is simple, fruit-forward stuff for sure, and the winemaker surely hasn't tried to mask or change that in any. Fine, but without real interest or complexity.

The palate remains very true to what you have on the nose, with cherry and cranberry taking center stage. Tannins are not really present at all, so it is a strong backbone of acidity that keeps things fresh and sippable. I'll say I found the sharp acidity to be a little too much on the tart side for my taste, and the cranberry flavour did feel a little bitter to me at times.

Cutting To The Chase: Does It Please The Cork?

Meh. I mean, this is not *bad* and it is clearly in a style that is very fashionable these days - it's just not that well executed. To be sure, I love me some light red, but I only get excited when there is some kind of complexity and/or spark of interest put into it. Sadly, I couldn't find any of that here.

Cork Score: 2.5/5*, mostly due to the one-note nature of the wine in general.

***

*Here's the lowdown on the scores, by the way. Essentially, I don't believe in 100-point scales for things as subjective as wine. Simply put, I just don't think one can credibly justify a 1% or even a 10% increment between two wines. I therefore choose to go a bit more basic. Here's how I break it down:

• 1/5: Seriously faulty, terrible, undrinkable;

• 2/5: Flawed and/or of bad quality. This is the type of stuff you should probably cook with and not drink;

• 3/5: Decent. This is where most entries will end up. These wines are clean and well-balanced, but not particularly memorable and/or exceptional. They are recommendable, but not an experience per se;

• 4/5: Exceptional. I sadly drink few wines that get this rating, but my purpose is to drink more. This denotes a memorable bottle that brought up some kind of emotion in me. This left a mark, and odds are I am now busy recommending it to everybody I know;

• 5/5: Perfect. I think I have probably tasted less than 5 bottles that would have qualified for a 5/5 in my entire life. This denotes an absolutely incredible wine that will imprint a definite memory for years to come - a true experience in itself.