Tim James: Vagabond No More – 10 Years of Saurwein’s Nom Pinot Noir

Achieving the first ten vintages of a wine is always a great thing, and especially so when the wine has been appreciated, locally and internationally, as much as Jessica Saurwein’s Nom (try not to confuse it with her other pinot noir, Om – not easy, though easier once you’ve tasted them, perhaps). Tasting through that decade of wines is also a great thing, one that was on offer for a roomful of people in Cape Town last week – there was just enough for a decent pour for everyone from single bottles – including the eighth-last (I think it was) of the maiden 2015.

Such vertical tastings are amongst the most interesting experiences that admirers of a wine can do, particularly when the wines all come from the same patch of vines and are vinified by the same person. The vaguely significant variant among these is that Jessica was obliged for some years to be what she calls a “vagabond” winemaker, making her wines in various cellars. She is now at last in possession of her very own vinifying space, in a converted barn on the farm, called Waterval, that she and husband Roland Peens acquired in 2021.

The vineyard that produces Nom is the rather famous Kaaimansgat (most associated with wines from the Finlayson family), in the highish-altitude, isolated, rather magical Elandskloof valley near Villiersdorp in the Overberg. They were planted in 2008, and I think we can see in the ten wines the growth in vineyard maturity – as well as the results of Jessica’s viticultural input over the years. I suspect that the stylistic differences apparent in the wines might well also partly be ascribable to the vineyard’s comparative youthfulness – it sometimes seems that it can take time for a vineyard to “settle down”. Vintage, though, is inevitably a more significant factor here.

All the wines have a genuine freshness to them, and most have a delicate charm. Oaking is never overt – perhaps a quarter new barrels are used. But the charm is more forceful and richly ripe and grippy in some of them, especially those of more recent years – 2016, 2017, 2020, 2021 and the newly released 2024. The lighter wines, including the still beautifully alert and lively 2015, are pleasing in a somewhat different, more ethereal way. The very pleasing 2018 may be somewhere towards the middle. In fact, the only wine I found almost a touch dilute and inconsiderable was the 2023 – but  I suspect that wine, which I hadn’t tasted before, might be at a difficult age right now. I enjoy the savoury elements that come into most of the more recent vintages, including something more dried-herbal (fynbos perhaps I should say) than perfumed-fruity, as exemplified well in the attractive, dense 2022.

That current release, 2024 is a delicious, sufficiently elegant wine, full of darkly ripe flavours and fairly concentrated, with a nice, fairly light grip of acid and tannin; it should mature at least as well as some of the earier vintages. Saurwein Nom is not really among the showiest or grandest of the Cape’s fine pinots, but fine it is, and in that context reasonably priced at under R600. Going forward, with Jessica no longer a vagabond and with the vines getting properly mature, I think we can look forward to even greater and more consistent quality and character.

Spoke out loud, including the brand name Saurwein before the wine name does make the two pinots extremely easily confusable. Nom, incidentally, “stands for nombulelo (gratitude in “Xhosa”) and Nomkhubulwane (a forgotten African goddess of agriculture). Om “symbolises the concept of universal creation”. Together, I think the names do give a good indication of Jessica’s intellectual and emotional orientation and care for nature. The delightfully bright and lush, richly floral labels are similarly expressive.

The newer Om (first vintage 2018) is from a slightly older vineyard than Nom, a dryland one in the more granitic Hemel-en-Aarde Rdge ward. Om 2024 is splendid – a little less perfumed than Nom 2024, and more savoury-herby-spicy, also with a greater structure of acid and tannin matching its bolder flavours. I see that Christian Eedes recently reviewed the new releases and rated this wine more highly; I would agree with that ranking, though both are lovely wines.

But now I must divert from the general consensus somewhat, when it comes to the Chi Riesling 2025, also tasted last week. Most people seem to love it and it apparently sells well and happily in good volumes, so I feel freer to say that I remain unconvinced by off-dry riesling grown in the Cape. It’s not the off-dryness – just last night I was drinking with pleasure a modest version from the Mosel that almost certainly had much more, but less obvious, sugar than the 13 or so grams per litre of Chi. But it had a lower alcohol (8% version 11%) and an obviously higher acidity. That’s the sort of balance I myself like, and it doesn’t happen in the Cape, any more than the Loire equivalent with chenin works well here either. Chi is a good, sweetish wine that is well-enough balanced, grippy and full of flavour, and I’m delighted that less hidebound people than I am love it. Me, I’ll continue rather reaching for Om and Nom (or do I mean Nom and Om?).

• Tim James is one of South Africa’s leading wine commentators, contributing to various local and international wine publications. His book Wines of South Africa – Tradition and Revolution appeared in 2013.