The Best of Bruce Schoenfeld

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Once every decade, meaning two-and-a-half times less frequent than a U.S. presidential election or a soccer World Cup, the governing body of Bordeaux’s St.-Emilion appellation reviews its classification of top properties. This is more often than the classification of Bordeaux’s Left Bank properties gets altered, which is once in its 201-year history, but it’s still not exactly a frequent occurrence. It happened last (September).

Before the Internet, it could take days for news to arrive about the various promotions and relegations. When Chateau Angelus and Chateau Beau-Sejour Becot gained Premier Grand Cru Classe status in 1996, I scoured newspapers for a week before finally calling France for an update.

Bruce Schoenfeld in Swartland, South Africa

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Every once in a while, I come across a winemaker with such confidence in his convictions, such philosophical purity to his techniques, that he’s capable of singlehandedly altering the mindset of his appellation.

Eben Sadie of South Africa’s Sadie Family Wines doesn’t have the renown of the Rhone’s Michel Chapoutier, or Burgundy’s Dominique Lafon, or California’s Helen Turley. But he’s every bit as certain as they are that he’s making wine as it should be made.

Bruce Schoenfeld in Stellenbosch, South Africa

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The first time I met the Namibian-born enologist Martin Meinert, nearly a decade ago, he’d embarked on a wine project as quixotic as any I’d ever come across. In celebration of the coming millennium change, he’d been hired to blend the contributions of 100 different South African winemakers into a single, coherent wine.

The result, predictably enough, was a South African blend lacking in personality, singularity, evident terroir, and just about any other attribute that might possibly make a wine interesting. “One of the worst experiences of my life,” Meinert calls it now.