Type / Red Wine

Showing 1–24 of 180 results

BLANKbottle 1 Click off 2020

R365.00 inc. VAT
This Pinot Noir, produced from a small vineyard situated just over 12 kilometres of Kleinmond. There is significant improvement – as the name suggests things are “1 click off”, whereas previously it was “2 clicks off”. When we tasted this, we were very impressed by the purity of Pinot fruit and balance of the wine. While watching this space for the wine once Pieter is 100% happy with the result, we highly recommend the 2020 1 Click Off. Only one barrel was made so availability is very limited.

BLANKbottle B.I.G. 2019

R310.01 inc. VAT
"The Swartland Revolution was exactly that: a revolution initiated by Swartland farmers which turned the premium wine market upside down. Suddenly premium higher-priced Bordeaux-style Stellenbosch wines had to share the stage with premium Rhone-style Swartland blends. And so it happened then, that for the past 8 years, the media stuck Cabernet Sauvignon in a dark and dusty corner - not “cool” enough. As some of you might know, at the moment I make wine from 24 varieties. I thought it a bright idea to do something for the neglected, fallen-from-grace Cabernet Sauvignon. I subsequently identified 8 Cabernet Sauvignon vineyards, 2 Cabernet franc and 1 Petit Verdot with vastly different heights above sea level: 7 near Somerset West (at 32 to 391 m), 2 on the outskirts of Tulbagh (both at 310 m) and 2 in the Witzenberg’s Koue Bokkeveld (at 734 and 755m). When I first started speaking to the masters of Cabernet here at the Southernmost tip of Africa, the first thing mentioned by most was the dreaded Greenness in Cabernet Sauvignon - a very unwelcome herbaceous / vegetative character. This develops due to high levels of Pyrazines present in the wine - something that's determined by the ripeness level of the grapes. The longer the grape bunches get exposed to sunlight during the growing period, the less Pyrazines - resulting in less greenness in the end product - reducing herbaceousness and amplifying fruit. Here in South Africa we have a unique situation: although we have plenty of sunshine, it is hot and dry. In most instances, by the time the grapes are ripe for picking, it hasn't had long enough sun exposure for the Pyrazines to get to an acceptable level. And if you leave it on the vine for longer, the sugar level gets too high. These sugars are then transformed during fermentation into alcohol resulting in rather high alcoholic wines. So in general, Cabernet creators are in fact chased by the Green Monster. Defended by some, feared by most. What confuses me, though, is that one could argue that this greenness is a stylistic characteristic of wines closer to the ocean, which makes it acceptable. Or does it? Where the exact point lies where herbaceousness turns into greenness - I am not sure. That’s why I decided to make a Cabernet Sauvignon led blend and identified the following 11 vineyards from different heights above sea levels. The closest vineyard to the ocean is 3km and the furthest 3 hours drive." Producer's note

BLANKbottle Boetie 2020

R280.00 inc. VAT
Picked early, the grapes from the decomposed granitic soil were destemmed and underwent fermentation over 5 days. The wine shows a wonderful fruity crunch on the palate, but with firm tannins giving it some grip. We tasted it and could not believe it was 100% Pinotage.

BLANKbottle But Why 2019

R280.00 inc. VAT
"I was concerned that ripening would be a challenge. My initial thoughts were that the wines would be green. What we did not realise at the time was that the site’s radiation levels (sunlight) were off-the-charts high and the average temperature is low during summer. The grapes could therefore stay on the vines much longer, absorbing massive amounts of sunlight, whilst growing in maturity and getting rid of greenness. Resulting in ripe grapes with lower sugar levels. Sandy soils are also famous for producing more elegant wines."- Producer's note

BLANKbottle Little William 2020

R310.01 inc. VAT
"The wine is named after my chance meeting with a little boy called William on the Witzenberg mountains. It’s been a fascinating story from the start, but became even more bizarre at the end of last year, with another chance meeting. Little William reloaded! In January 2016, I was driving back from a tiny little vineyard in the Koue Bokkeveld (Ceres Plateau). Cruising along at the 100km/h speed limit, I came to a very winding stretch of road leading towards the Witzenberg pass. Suddenly, for a split second, I thought I saw something in the middle of the road. I had just come through a super sharp bend and had to jump on the brakes with both feet. When I finally got my 470 000-km-on-the-clock Toyota to stop, there, on the white line in the middle of the road, stood a little blonde boy. I guessed him around a year and a half old. He was in his nappies and had a white T-shirt on, perfectly camouflaged on the white line. Unsure of what to do once I'd taken him out of the road, I thought it a good plan to prompt him and see which direction he takes off in (with myself of course right behind). About 200 meters further along the road he (we) crossed a little bridge heading towards the other side of the canal. He turned up a dirt road which led to a farmhouse about 300 meters up a hill. Keeping up to his snail-like pace, we arrived at the house more or less 10 minutes later (in my experience with farm dogs, it wouldn’t have been wise to carry him). When the gardener saw us approaching, he called out to a woman at the house and judging by her reaction, she must’ve been his mom and he must’ve been missing for a while. It was a bit of an emotional and chaotic environment so, knowing he was safe, I just turned around and left without introducing myself. So each time I present a tasting with Little William wine as part of the line-up, I get the same question: “Why is it called, Little William?”, followed almost without fail by: “What does the family have to say about you calling a wine, Little William?” My answer is always the same: “I never went back, they don't even know the wine exists. But I am convinced there will be this one day where I’d be sitting at some local bar in Knysna, drinking a beer all by myself when the young guy next to me turns to me and introduces himself as William from Ceres." And I’ll be able to tell him: “Eendag, lank, lank gelede het hierdie oom jou lewe gered!” For 4 years I had the privilege of telling the story of little William. Until last year. When Chapter 2 happened. In November, we took our youngest son for a minor operation at Panorama Mediclinic, Tygerberg, Cape Town. The lady at reception looked at us with a puzzled look on her face. We later learnt that there had been a mistake on the paperwork and they were under the impression that he was an adult. They had subsequently booked him into an adult ward. The man next to him had drunk a cup of coffee at 6:00am that morning with milk in. His operation therefore had to be postponed and he obviously missed his theatre time slot. He had to wait almost the whole day for the next slot. He and Sebastian eventually left for the theatre at more or less the same time. I went to get us a cup of coffee, and as she always does, Aneen started making conversation with the milk-in-the-coffee guy’s wife. On my return Aneen said: ”They are from Ceres, tell her the little William story.” I cringed, thinking: "Why would I do that??" I tried to let her comment slide and filled the awkward silence with useless words. We carried on with the small talk and she ended up telling us that she is a vet and her husband is a farmer. “Where do you farm in Ceres?”, I asked. “In the Witzenberg mountains, on a farm called Blah-blah-blah”, she answered. And, as you’ve probably guessed by now, that was the name of the farm where I dropped little William that morning. It started dawning on me that it might be my Knysna-bar-thing moment happening in a totally bizarre, different way. “Do you have a son called William?” I asked. “No”, she replied, “but my nephew is called William and they live on the same farm, in the house next to the road.” We did the sums and he would’ve been exactly 1 and a half years at the time. So it turns out it wasn't a beer-in-hand pub in Knysna, but a coffee-in-hand hospital in Cape Town. I should've listened to Aneen right from the start... so I told her the whole story and she phoned her sister-in-law. “Did you ever lose William on the farm?” she asked (I don’t think that’s the type of story you volunteer to tell your extended family if not prompted). “Yes”, she said. “There was this one day…” PS: This incident made me think about everyone’s life stories. I’m convinced that these kind of things happen to everyone. The difference is that I just happened to call a wine Little William, and I have a reason to re-tell this story. If I didn’t, I would’ve possibly only re-told the story once or twice, but I can imagine how the finer details could've gotten lost between profit margins and VAT. I have a responsibility to convey the story in an honest and factual way. You know how easily a story gets blurry. So each time I drive the road, I recheck my facts: Where exactly did William stand? Distances? The name of the farm? The story then became part of our story. And that day when the lady mentioned Ceres, the first thing Aneen thought about was the boy in the road." Winemaker's notes

BLANKbottle Little William 2020 Magnum

R630.00 inc. VAT
“The wine is named after my chance meeting with a little boy called William on the Witzenberg mountains. It’s been a fascinating story from the start, but became even more bizarre at the end of last year, with another chance meeting. Little William reloaded! In January 2016, I was driving back from a tiny little vineyard in the Koue Bokkeveld (Ceres Plateau). Cruising along at the 100km/h speed limit, I came to a very winding stretch of road leading towards the Witzenberg pass. Suddenly, for a split second, I thought I saw something in the middle of the road. I had just come through a super sharp bend and had to jump on the brakes with both feet. When I finally got my 470 000-km-on-the-clock Toyota to stop, there, on the white line in the middle of the road, stood a little blonde boy. I guessed him around a year and a half old. He was in his nappies and had a white T-shirt on, perfectly camouflaged on the white line. Unsure of what to do once I’d taken him out of the road, I thought it a good plan to prompt him and see which direction he takes off in (with myself of course right behind). About 200 meters further along the road he (we) crossed a little bridge heading towards the other side of the canal. He turned up a dirt road which led to a farmhouse about 300 meters up a hill. Keeping up to his snail-like pace, we arrived at the house more or less 10 minutes later (in my experience with farm dogs, it wouldn’t have been wise to carry him). When the gardener saw us approaching, he called out to a woman at the house and judging by her reaction, she must’ve been his mom and he must’ve been missing for a while. It was a bit of an emotional and chaotic environment so, knowing he was safe, I just turned around and left without introducing myself. So each time I present a tasting with Little William wine as part of the line-up, I get the same question: “Why is it called, Little William?”, followed almost without fail by: “What does the family have to say about you calling a wine, Little William?” My answer is always the same: “I never went back, they don’t even know the wine exists. But I am convinced there will be this one day where I’d be sitting at some local bar in Knysna, drinking a beer all by myself when the young guy next to me turns to me and introduces himself as William from Ceres.” And I’ll be able to tell him: “Eendag, lank, lank gelede het hierdie oom jou lewe gered!” For 4 years I had the privilege of telling the story of little William. Until last year. When Chapter 2 happened. In November, we took our youngest son for a minor operation at Panorama Mediclinic, Tygerberg, Cape Town. The lady at reception looked at us with a puzzled look on her face. We later learnt that there had been a mistake on the paperwork and they were under the impression that he was an adult. They had subsequently booked him into an adult ward. The man next to him had drunk a cup of coffee at 6:00am that morning with milk in. His operation therefore had to be postponed and he obviously missed his theatre time slot. He had to wait almost the whole day for the next slot. He and Sebastian eventually left for the theatre at more or less the same time. I went to get us a cup of coffee, and as she always does, Aneen started making conversation with the milk-in-the-coffee guy’s wife. On my return Aneen said: ”They are from Ceres, tell her the little William story.” I cringed, thinking: “Why would I do that??” I tried to let her comment slide and filled the awkward silence with useless words. We carried on with the small talk and she ended up telling us that she is a vet and her husband is a farmer. “Where do you farm in Ceres?”, I asked. “In the Witzenberg mountains, on a farm called Blah-blah-blah”, she answered. And, as you’ve probably guessed by now, that was the name of the farm where I dropped little William that morning. It started dawning on me that it might be my Knysna-bar-thing moment happening in a totally bizarre, different way. “Do you have a son called William?” I asked. “No”, she replied, “but my nephew is called William and they live on the same farm, in the house next to the road.” We did the sums and he would’ve been exactly 1 and a half years at the time. So it turns out it wasn’t a beer-in-hand pub in Knysna, but a coffee-in-hand hospital in Cape Town. I should’ve listened to Aneen right from the start… so I told her the whole story and she phoned her sister-in-law. “Did you ever lose William on the farm?” she asked (I don’t think that’s the type of story you volunteer to tell your extended family if not prompted). “Yes”, she said. “There was this one day…” PS: This incident made me think about everyone’s life stories. I’m convinced that these kind of things happen to everyone. The difference is that I just happened to call a wine Little William, and I have a reason to re-tell this story. If I didn’t, I would’ve possibly only re-told the story once or twice, but I can imagine how the finer details could’ve gotten lost between profit margins and VAT. I have a responsibility to convey the story in an honest and factual way. You know how easily a story gets blurry. So each time I drive the road, I recheck my facts: Where exactly did William stand? Distances? The name of the farm? The story then became part of our story. And that day when the lady mentioned Ceres, the first thing Aneen thought about was the boy in the road.” Winemaker’s notes

BLANKbottle Oppie Koppie 2017

R310.01 inc. VAT
"It immediately triggered an idea: if I ferment the wine without removing the stems (a.k.a. whole bunch fermentation), chances were that I could possibly extract some of that exciting spice. So I chucked 33.33333% of the total volume of grapes into a fermentation vessel (stems and all) and crushed it with my feet. With the balance of the grapes, I removed the stems using a de-stemmer and filled the tank. All the grapes then underwent spontaneous fermentation. After 4 weeks, I pressed the grapes and the wine aged in barrel for a year. When the time came for label design, I did a pencil drawing of an old-fashioned film camera taking a photo of a grape-stem. I blackened the camera lens in such a way that only one third of the stem was exposed to the camera. I then called the wine 33.3333. In 2015, the stems were super ripe and I decided to do 100% whole bunch fermentation. On the label I altered the sketch in order for the camera lens to have a 100% exposure to the stem. 2016, the stems were ripe, but not as ripe as the 2015 vintage, so I went for 70% exposure. When it came to the 2017 vintage I decided that, in order for this wine to get to the next level, it needed more complexity. The only way to gain complexity is to add vineyards with flavour profiles that would enhance and add layers to the original wine. A little bit of Shiraz from the Swartland and a tad Cinsaut from the Breedekloof did the trick. Having had 80% whole cluster fermentation, I initially called the wine 80.0000 (referring to the percentage exposure to stems as in previous years), but this was confusing to my clients. I then changed the name to Oppie-Koppie, the name the farmer calls the vineyard - a 2017 Voor-Paardeberg Shiraz (my 4th vintage from this block of grapes). Northern Rhône-like in style, super spicy with nice grip. Ageing will only do this wine great but you can also drink it now." - Producer Note

BLANKbottle Pseudonym 2020

R310.01 inc. VAT
"There are two farms in Darling who share the same entrance. I buy grapes from Framer 1. He is a really good farmer and many years ago realised that the only way to make his business work is to farm top-quality grapes. He therefore removed all inferior high-production vineyards and was left with only old Bush vines with potential. He then sourced buyers from top wineries - guys and girls who could afford paying much more for his grapes and compensate him for the extra care given to these Old vines. Over the years he therefore created a niche market for himself. His neighbour however (Farmer 2), farms for the big co-operative winery who doesn't pay as well as the smaller wineries. So, each time a branded vehicle entered their shared entrance, Farmer 2 made a note of the name of the winery who buys from his neighbour. He would then get into contact with the winery and try and sell them grapes as well. I don't have any branding on my vehicle though, so he couldn't track me down. One day, however, he phoned Farmer 1 and complained about the speed I was driving, obviously wanting to find out who I was. Farmer 1’s reply? “Oh, you mean the jam(preserve) maker from The Strand? He’s the one who buys all my left-over grapes once I’ve sold all my top stuff. He then pays me double what the others are paying and makes jam in The Strand (my home town).” I’m sure this kept Farmer 2 busy for a while. My pseudonym: “Die konfytkoker van die Strand”, meaning “The jam maker from the Strand”. Pseudonym is made from a small 68-year old little vineyard. It grows in a little valley into the mountain in Darling. Seeing that it is the only food source around, the birds eat the grapes every year. The farmer could never use the valley for something else, so he kept the vineyard. When the grapes eventually ripened, there wouldn’t be much left to harvest. He would then pick the bits and throw it with the other grapes from the farm headed for the big co-operative winery. This was what had happened for 64 years. I asked him if we could cover the whole vineyard with bird nets, I bought the nets and he gave the labour. It was at the age of 65 when, for the first time, a wine was made exclusively from that little vineyard. I make two wines from it. Retirement@65 - a blend of the little block of Cinsaut and 25% Shiraz as well as Pseudonym which is 100% the Old vineyard Cinsaut. "Producer's note

BLANKbottle Saint Rand 2018

R280.00 inc. VAT
"Back in 2015 an old varsity friend referred me to a farmer called Boetie van Reenen. Not long thereafter a farmer whom I buy grapes from, as well as a fellow winemaker, referred me to the same guy. So with 3 solid referrals, I met with this Darling farmer who apparently had some really interesting opportunities when it came to varietals like Cinsaut and Chenin. In year 1, I bought some Chenin from him. Then, in year 2 (2016), the Retirement@65 vineyard came on board and finally, in 2017, a Pinotage vineyard. When it comes to reds, Pinotage is the first to ripen. Unfortunately, its early sweetness attract birds from the mountain and they feast on the grapes. In the past, the farmer had therefore been forced to pick the 37-year old vineyard early, on a low sugar, before the birds came. But that meant that the grapes were not ripe yet and could only be used for the making of rosé. To prevent the bird-fest, I then purchased some bird nets and the farmer covered the little bush vines with it - it worked. BLANKBOTTLE Saint Rand 2018 - my first straight Pinotage. You all know the story of our recent trip to Marseille with our film Epileptic Inspiration. To solidify our memories and to keep us going until the awards ceremony on 14 October in Paris, I thought it good to name a wine after our adventure. Saint Rand is the registered name of our PTY Ltd. - Saint Rand Productions (tongue-in-cheek upper class name for our very humble but wonderful home town - the Strand). I appreciate the new lighter styles currently emerging in the marketplace, but deep down I like the heavier, old-style Pinotages way more. So with BLANKBOTTLE Saint Rand 2018, I aimed for something in between - not as heavy as the older styles and not as light as the modern versions. Just to clarify; the Pinotage in both B.O.E.T. 2017 and Saint Rand 2018 comes from the same vineyard in Darling." Producer's note

BLANKbottle The Spaniard 2020

R310.01 inc. VAT
BLANKbottle The Spaniard 2020 is 100% Mourvèdre from a bush vine growing in schist soil in the Riebeek Valley. Just 3 barrels were made (1 x 225L new oak barrel and 2 x 225L older oak barrels). The winemaker, Pieter describes the wine as flirty and very expressive so went with a dumpier bottle shape for 'stage presence' and a loud label design.

Bodegas Benjamin de Rothschild & Vega Sicilia Macán 2015

R1,150.00 inc. VAT
"The current vintage of the first wine is the 2015 Macán, fermented in oak vats and matured in new French oak barrels for 12 months, followed by a further five months in oak vats and kept in bottle for almost three years before it's released. 2015 was a warm and dry year, and the wine feels riper when tasted next to the 2016 Macán Clásico, which comes from a very different year. The use of foudres helps to give the wine length and elegance—a good tool to fine-tune warmer vintages like this one. This is stylistically different from 2016, with darker fruit and an earthy touch. It's powerful, with structure and plenty of tannin, a dense wine, with concentration to get polished in bottle. 74,465 bottle, 2,563 magnums and some larger formats produced. It was bottled in May 2017." - Luis Gutiérrez, Wine Advocate

Bodegas Benjamin de Rothschild & Vega Sicilia Macán Clásico 2016

R695.00 inc. VAT
In 2016, they fermented the wine in stainless steel and reduced the number of new barrels to 50%, while 5% of the barrels were produced with American oak at the Vega Sicilia cooperage. The new winery was 100% ready and now has much better facilities. The élevage lasted 12 months, and this has contained ripeness and integrated oak. The year had freshness and balance and helped to produce lighter and more expressive wines, like this one. This has to be one of the finest vintages for this cuvée.

Bodegas y Viñedos Alion 2016 Tinto

R1,250.00 inc. VAT
"Glass-staining violet. Heady smoke- and mineral-accented aromas of ripe black and blue fruits, incense and potpourri, plus hints of vanilla and cola in the background. Bodegas y Viñedos Alion 2016 Tinto is densely packed, alluringly sweet and focused on the palate, offering intense black currant, cherry-vanilla and candied licorice flavors and a touch of exotic spices. Sappy, smooth and seamless in texture, finishing with powerful thrust and velvety tannins that come in late to add shape and gentle grip. 95% French and 5% American oak, 80% of it new." Josh Raynolds, Vinous

Bodegas y Viñedos Alion 2016 Tinto 3L

R7,995.00 inc. VAT
Glass-staining violet. Heady smoke- and mineral-accented aromas of ripe black and blue fruits, incense and potpourri, plus hints of vanilla and cola in the background. Densely packed, alluringly sweet and focused on the palate, offering intense black currant, cherry-vanilla and candied licorice flavors and a touch of exotic spices. Sappy, smooth and seamless in texture, finishing with powerful thrust and velvety tannins that come in late to add shape and gentle grip. 95% French and 5% American oak, 80% of it new.

Bodegas y Viñedos Alion 2016 Tinto Magnum

R2,950.00 inc. VAT
Glass-staining violet. Heady smoke- and mineral-accented aromas of ripe black and blue fruits, incense and potpourri, plus hints of vanilla and cola in the background. Densely packed, alluringly sweet and focused on the palate, offering intense black currant, cherry-vanilla and candied licorice flavors and a touch of exotic spices. Sappy, smooth and seamless in texture, finishing with powerful thrust and velvety tannins that come in late to add shape and gentle grip. 95% French and 5% American oak, 80% of it new.

Bodegas y Viñedos Pintia 2015 Tinto

R850.00 inc. VAT
"Deep, glistening ruby. Expansive cherry, cassis, potpourri, exotic spice and cracked pepper scents on the intensely perfumed nose; subtle licorice, tobacco and vanilla qualities add complexity. Bodegas y Viñedos Pintia 2015 Tinto is deep, sweet and penetrating on the palate, offering intense, spice- and smoke-tinged red and dark berry compote, violet pastille and cola flavors that become livelier with air. The floral quality gains strength on the strikingly long finish, which leaves smoke and mineral notes behind." Josh Raynolds, Vinous

Bodegas y Viñedos Pintia 2015 Tinto 3L

R4,995.00 inc. VAT
Deep, glistening ruby. Expansive cherry, cassis, potpourri, exotic spice and cracked pepper scents on the intensely perfumed nose; subtle licorice, tobacco and vanilla qualities add complexity. Deep, sweet and penetrating on the palate, offering intense, spice- and smoke-tinged red and dark berry compote, violet pastille and cola flavors that become livelier with air. The floral quality gains strength on the strikingly long finish, which leaves smoke and mineral notes behind.

Château de Pibarnon Bandol Rouge 2016

R625.00 inc. VAT
Mocha, cola, earth and caramel notes appear on the nose of the 2016 Bandol, a blend of 90% Mourvèdre and 10% Grenache. This is all dark fruit and savory nuance, full-bodied, richly concentrated, creamy and lush, yet it's chewy and tannic on the long, spicy finish. It can be consumed now with rare beef or lamb to help with the tannins, or be aged for up to 15 years.