Tim James: Oldenburg on the up

These days I find that there’s little more interesting in the world of wine than bumping around vineyard roads (in this case in a robust little electric vehicle), up and down hills, driven by a knowledgeable and fully engaged viticulturist who stops frequently to point out and explain the intricacies as well as the larger patterns of his work.

It can only help if it’s a beautiful spring day (most of the vines – but not yet the restful cabernet – offering little fistfuls of white-green infant leaves on the gnarled stems that so recently proclaimed no sign of life); and if the strips and blocks of fynbos, there to encourage nice insects that deal with the nasty ones, are full of life and texture and colour; and if the mountains of Stellenbosch are rising gloriously around you as you bump along and observe and learn. I confess I was too interested and having too good a time to make many notes, and, as I dismayingly discovered later, those I did mostly give evidence of the jerky terrain.

These vineyards were on the Oldenburg estate in the lovely Banhoek valley, with the farm’s remarkable and unique rounded-conical hill – called Rondekop, what else? – rising in the centre to offers a range of aspects as well as of soil-types, all the mountains ranging round and looking down approvingly. The viticulturist on my tour was Christo Crous, here since 2021, and there was also, sitting behind us, and adding perspective to the stories about vines, soils and growing conditions (coolness and a marked diurnal temperature range, good rainfall, etc), cellarmaster and general manager Nic van Aarde. Nic arrived as winemaker in 2019 and much of the excitement of Oldenburg these days dates from then.

There was a tentativeness about my report on my last visit to Oldenburg estate in this lovely Banhoek Valley. That was back in 2016, and the most enthusiastic I could get was to say that it was “an estate with a great deal of potential”. I’m certainly not the first to note how that potential is being fulfilled, but my recent visit made it clear to me just how far things have come – and in fact I’m confident that there is further to go and that the Oldenburg team are taking things there.

That team must, crucially, start, I suspect with owners Adrian and Vanessa van der Spuy, who bought the rundown property more than two decades back (it dates to the 1960s, one of the earliest wine farms in the area). Much was done, but it’s really only been properly coming together recently. Perhaps a learning process for Adrian, and the building of a fine team. Adrian himself, Switzerland-based (though born very locally), is, Nic and Christo say, deeply and intimately involved.

Also crucially, the years since I last visited have seen a renewed inpouring of investment. Not least, a cellar – awaiting approval back then in the face of a challenge from a grumpy neighbour – has been built (and now has a winemaker, Lucilia Ramos, to work with Nic). Virused vineyards have been pulled out and mostly replanted; there are now 24 hectares. Just eight hectares of those planted earlier in the century remain, and all are managed with focused care by Christo, who wants to work “with nature for our benefit” as well with science: this is coming to be “per vine” farming, with each vine having its own GPS identity and monitored (the same sort of thing that is being aimed at the Sadie home vineyards; interestingly, viticulturist Etienne Terblanche consults to both).

Another investment – a crucial one for their sales strategy it seems to me – is what they call the Tasting Room, though it’s a series of internal spaces and verandas with wonderful views across a fynbos garden (for those insects) to Rondekop and the mountains beyond. It’s expensive to taste there (after making a reservation): R1,100 per person for ten wines, and ad hoc additions for older vintages, vertical tastings and the like. But the glassware is all Zalto and Riedel (I think many tasters would be scared if they realised the price of those – there was a crash somewhere as we sat there after our drive and visit to the cellar, substantial enough to prompt Nic to joke thorough gritted teeth that “there goes the day’s margin!”). A team of trained and thoroughly informed sommeliers glide between the widely-spaced tables with bottles (sealed, and tapped with Coravins) and carafes. The latter are rather beautiful in their simplicity and our sommelier was visibly pleased when I referred to it as a carafe – most of the team call them decanters he said, but he agreed with me – always a good thing to do. Actually the Oldenburg bottles are pretty beautiful too, especially those of the Rondekop range.

The Tasting Room was full on the day of my visit and Nic says that’s typical. In fact, a remarkable 70% of Oldenburg’s sales go directly to customers, either immediately after tastings or via their Wine Club or the website – meaning fewer cuts to distributor and retailers. The wines are also handsomely priced, but not unreasonably so for these days: from R250 for the red and white CL blends behind their very chic labels, up to R1,050 for the Rondekop cabernet and syrah.

And so to a brief overview of some of the wines I tasted. There are, in fact, at present twelve regular wines on the list, which is quite a lot for a relatively small producer (plantings here include chardonnay, cabernets sauvignon and franc, grenache, merlot, shiraz, and chenin). My sampling included all four of the Rondekop wines. The finest of them, for me, is the Una V Chardonnay 2024 (from a youngish block, at the foot of the great hill, that they decided from 2023 to keep apart – there’s also a chardonnay in the standard range). Subtly spiced by a third new oak and flavoured by ripeness, it’s pure and elegant, light-feeling at 14% alcohol, remarkably but unaggressively intense with long, long lingering flavours. Surely to be placed amongst the ever-rising cream of Cape chardonnays, not only for its R850 price tag. The Banhoek valley is more widely proving to be a fine address for chardonnay.

The other three Rondekops are reds. Per Se 2021 is an excellent cabernet sauvignon from the gnarled mature vines that I’d earlier observed were the last on the farm to come into leaf. It’s undoubtedly ripe in its gorgeousness, with complex dark flavours, but reined-back winemaking keeps it on the understated side of traditional Stellenbosch cab’s sweet-fruited generosity. Cab is the smallest part of the Rhodium 2021 blend, with cab franc (55%) and merlot (35%) making up the majority. The alcohol here is a little higher, expressive of greater ripeness, and although there is a touch of elegance, I found it too close to sweetness on the finish for my tastes – but many won’t agree with that.

These are indeed emphatically Stellenbosch reds, though on the more restrained side of typical big ripeness. Stone Axe is a selection from a 20-year-old syrah vineyard on Rondekop, 15% wholebunch-pressed to add to the aromatics, matured in foudre and older barrels. It’s a wine full of personality, its distinctive character becoming more apparent as it opened up in the glass (one might argue the sommelier could have given it a little more air before serving). Succulent and rich, with a lovely texture, and just that typical touch of ripe sweetness on the finish.

There’s nothing tentative about my regard for Oldenburg this time. I think the future will hold greater things as the vines mature under Christo’s assiduous care; and the vision of the Van der Spuys and Nic is focused, ambitious, and already making this a splendid winery to visit (provided you can afford it), with very good wines to drink. Especially that chard. Oh, and the cab.