“Want to try something funky?” Adi Badenhorst asks, as he grabs a half-empty, unlabeled bottle from his kitchen fridge and beckons me outside. Soon we are seated on the front porch of his farm house, looking at an expansive view out over the Swartland fields turned brown and yellow in autumn. He poured us each a taster of his latest experiment. “It’s Chenin Blanc. We made one barrel, from four different vintages,” he says, grinning, then adds offhandedly, “It’s just for auction, you know.” The wine is quite oxidised, with a distinct fino sherry flavour, yet there is some delicious fruit in it. This is just the kind of thing that has made Adi Badenhorst a household name. That is, if your household is into drinking some of the most unique and interesting wines made in South Africa.

Adi is a real character. He sports a silver-highlighted ponytail and sideburns long enough to land a plane on. It is no stretch of the imagination to see him as a 19th century pirate. He is undeniably confident, yet simultaneously self-deprecating and seemingly never serious about his wines, constantly playing down his successes. During our discussion, he repeatedly refers to himself as simply being “rustig” (relaxed). As the third generation winemaker in his family (his grandfather made wine at Groot Constantia and his father at both Buitenverwachting and Constantia Uitsig), Adi spent nine years as a winemaker at the esteemed Stellenbosch estate, Rustenberg. In 2008 he packed it all in and bought a 60-hectare piece of land in the Paardeberg with an abandoned winery and a “dodgy 60′s house,” as he jokingly refers his home. Just down from the house is a small aviary, evidence of another hobby. “We’re going to build a proper one,” he says chuckling, “My wife says this one looks a bit like a squatter camp, so my birds are lodging at the farm in the Karoo till then.” Adi might just be the only winemaker who breeds parrots, but then it somehow is not at all surprising that he does.

Why the Paardeberg? “It’s the old vines,” he answers, “There are some great old vines; Chenin Blanc and Grenache here.” He also mentions that the handful of new vineyard areas have yet to prove themselves in the long term, while here the land has been proven. He takes us to a Grenache vineyard, planted in 1951, where the thick vines’ roots reach out of the granitic soil like young oak trees. With only 24-hectares of his property under vine and much of it low-yielding, older vines, he needs to purchase fruit from neighbouring farms. As a result his wines are mostly blends. They are collectively sold under the Badenhorst Family Wines label. The A.A. Badenhorst red and white blends are the flagships, and each vintage sells out before the next release. His second-tier range is Secateurs, which is less expensive but still impressive. Both ranges have possibly the most distinctive and quirky label design of any South African wine. If you have seen a bottle you will not forget it and rightly so because the label is an important symbol of recognition in the modern, saturated market.

Adi’s old winery was last used in the 1940′s and a lot of work has gone into its restoration. On one side, there is a restaurant-size espresso machine and a row of barrels. On the other, a small desk in the corner, several large wooden foudres and a row of cement tanks with their undulating facing-wall stretching the length of the winery. “We’re making wine the same way it was last done here,” he mentions, “The only difference is we now have cool fermentation.” We taste some from a few tanks. All have a strong mineral element to them, most notably the 2009 A.A. Badenhorst white, a rich, dense blend with good acidity to keep it fresh. Adi’s using Clairette Blanc, Roussanne, Verdehlo and other lesser-used varietals in his wines. Walking through the cellar, the barrels have some pretty interesting names written on them in chalk, like “007 / Licence to Kill” and amusingly, “Dodgy.” Nothing seems to be done by convention here, which probably explains why his wines stand out so much.

He is excited about a new project of his, making sherry, and he has got some 90-year old casks for its production on the way. He talks about the old Colombard and Chenin vines that are perfect for sherry, but characteristically underplays himself by saying, “I’m not really sure how to do it.” Perhaps he really is not sure how to do a lot of things or he is just very lucky, but both are unlikely. Despite his dismissive nature and constant joking, his wines are proof of the talents that allow him to be an adventurous winemaker.

While we taste his wines, his four-year-old son, Samuel, almost certain to be the fourth generation Badenhorst winemaker, scoots up and down the cellar on his plastic motorbike, keeping us entertained. At the house earlier, Adi sat with his seven-month-old daughter, Ana, on his lap while we chatted. Family is definitely a priority for him. “Work and life are hard to separate,” he says, and then gestures around him, “Here it all mingles, as it should.” He looks off into the distance. “The intermingling destinies of man and vine,” he adds rather profoundly, contemplating a second before bursting into laughter.

Badenhorst Family Wines
www.aabadenhorst.com

(This piece originally appeared in G&W Magazine.)