Sips: Staff party edition

chaotic notes from a hungover shift.

A couple walks into the bar looking sheepish and asks what the best wine pairing would be for ketamine. Both A and I look at each other for a second before the man says, “I was thinking a Rosé?” “Uh, yeah sure, that’d work” says A and hands him an Elmie Pinotage Rosé. “Have a good trip!” I yell as they walk out the door.

For our staff party, we all go away for the night and have a big dinner with lots of wine producers. D brings French wine, Georgian wine, Champagne — wine that I’d never buy in my own capacity, and will probably never get the chance to try again. I start panicking that I’ll miss a taste of something, so I try everything and get very drunk. I feel fancy and over-extended but I keep going. There’s a bottle of Georgian wine going around that tastes like apricots and thyme. Then I see a bottle of Radikon Sivi and hear someone saying it smells like salad dressing and I immediately know I’m going to love it. It’s textural, grippy, and tastes like wild strawberries drenched in a red wine vinegar. I’m suddenly craving freshly dressed greens, with a side of fries because I’m drunk. I scoop another glass.

The next morning I wake up feeling full — not in my head, but in my belly. I have a swim and it helps a bit but the feeling comes back quickly. I keep thinking how A and I are going to get through the shift later, especially because it’s getting busier now. I eat a packet of salted crisps for breakfast and drink a litre of ice cold water with salt and lime. Before the shift I get a pizza sandwich, and the cheese helps but it’s going to be a very long night.

A man comes in and he seems to be a regular by the way he greets Chef, and when A says hello to him, it’s as if he’s been away for a while. He orders a bottle of Alheit Magnetic North 2024 and I wonder if a friend will join him. He’s disappointed by the wine and to be honest, I am as well. I don’t get what the big whoop is — it just tastes like a boring Chenin. Since working at the bar, I have let go of some of my negativity towards Chenin though, because of wines like Angus Paul Fantamtango 2024, L’Equinox To Maike and the Rest 2023 and Adriaan Van Zyl’s Seqouia 2024. Chenin that tastes like soil and salt and herbs and stems. I even tasted the Alheit Huilkrans 2019 the other day and I was taken by how mineral it was, full of salt and gravel, and its smell of rooibos — not the tea, the actual bush. Dusty and sweet.

But this wine just falls flat and I’m not thinking about much when I’m sipping on it. The man says previous vintages of Magnetic North are much better, and I choose to believe him. At that moment I recall my last glass of wine at the staff party being a Magnetic North 2020 and I don’t remember hating it. He then orders another bottle, this time from the imports list. It costs R3000 and he offers me a glass. At this point I’m shaking from my hangover, but also from exhaustion, so I say, “Sure, I’d love one. Thank you so much!” It tastes good, but I’m instantly ill and hide the rest of the glass underneath the bar. He strikes up a conversation with a woman sitting a few seats down about the difference between people from Cape Town and people from Joburg. He’s from Joburg it seems, and he’s complaining that people are too flashy with their money. The woman looks at his bottle of wine and asks what he’s drinking. He says something French sounding, and she nods smugly.

A makes us a Beericano — Campari, vermouth, beer, orange slice. It makes me feel alive again and I think to myself, ‘this is how people become alcoholics.’ A blonde woman walks in, fresh-faced with her hair blown out, and asks to taste a Chardonnay. I tell her we only have a Chardonnay-Chenin blend on by the glass, and another more bodied white, but I can give her a taste of both. She tastes the blend and screws her face up, “Oh! No no no, that tastes awful.” I’m surprised, because this blend is more of a Chard than a Chenin, and I can immediately tell what kind of Chard she’d like and it’s this one. “Okay, have a taste of the Vuurberg White. It’s a blend of Rousanne, Viognier, Semillion, a little Chardonnay.” She tastes and again, puckers her lips and makes a face. Now I’m really confused, because everyone likes the Vuurberg White. Even the lady who came in declaring that she only drinks sweet wine had three glasses of the stuff. I ask her what wine she usually drinks at home, thinking that maybe she thinks it’s a Chardonnay, but it’s actually a savvy b. “I can’t remember the label, but now I’m thinking maybe it’s cause I’ve just brushed my teeth?” I take a deep breath and say, “Yes, that’ll do it” and pour her a glass of the blend and make myself another Beericano.

I’m surprised at how much Touriga Nacional we’re selling, because to me it tastes like ink. It’s sweltering outside and we’re selling bottles of the stuff. I’ve come to realise that some people are creatures of habit, not habitat, and no matter how hot it gets, they’re going to drink glasses and glasses of their Big Daddy Red¹. In this heat, I want something like Angus Paul Diapsalmata Cinsault 2024, because it’s super bright, and peppery with bursting tart berries and salt (?) It makes me want to put white pepper on my strawberries just to see what happens. I probably won’t though, I’ll just drink the wine instead. I also reach for the Force Celeste Cinsault 2024², because it tastes like a cherry Fizz Pop and honestly why would you not want that?

It’s steak tartare night, which means V & V come in for their standing mid-week date. They order a steak tartare, a plate of white anchovies, either a hard or soft cheese (this time it was a portion of Langbaken Karoo Crumble) and a bottle of our heaviest red. They then order two portions of steak tartare to take away for their kids’ dinner. It’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen and every week I forget they’re going to come in and every week I’m delighted when they arrive. To watch two people make time for each other? What a privilege.

1. I had to clarify what I meant by this to a wine maker the other day. It’s Big Daddy in body, not necessarily in alcohol content. Use your imagination people!

2. Good year for Cinsault? Someone professional please tell me.