I’ve always been proud to be an equal opportunity lover of wine. Sure, I’m not wild about anything too buttery or beastly, but as long as it’s a well-made, balanced wine, there’s a happy home for it in my glass. So imagine my surprise, amidst all this open-mindedness, when years of field research revealed a verifiable dislike of the wines from an entire wine-producing region. Time and time again, if it was from South Africa, I no likey.
The fact that I didn’t seem to be alone assuaged my guilt in part (Pinotage, South Africa’s signature red that’s a cross between Pinot Noir and Cinsault, is known for splitting a crowd as quickly as Norton), yet my dislike wasn’t limited to that particular divisive wine. Even my favorite white grape, Chenin Blanc, turned me off when it bore South Africa’s name of Steen. The wines always had a redeemable quality or two, mind you, but I couldn’t get past the taste of acetone (or was it latex?) in every sample I tried.
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