The Known and the Unknown: Heritage, Family and a Cape Blend

A Season of Looking Both Ways

The other day, someone told me I was in my "sandwich phase".

I'd never heard the term before, but it immediately made sense.

It's that season of life when you find yourself standing between two generations. Looking one way, you see parents growing older. Looking the other, you see children finding their own place in the world. Somewhere in the middle, you start thinking more about where you've come from and what you'll leave behind.

Perhaps that's why I felt we should set aside time in our wine calendar to reflect on our heritage.

Not Heritage Day itself, but the people, stories and traditions that quietly shape who we become.

A Blend Greater Than Its Parts

When Hugo and I created our first red wine, we chose to make a Cape Blend. Partly because Hugo has always had a natural affinity for Pinotage, but also because we were fascinated by the challenge of blending. Taking different varieties, each with their own personalities and strengths, and bringing them together to create something better than any one variety could be on its own.

Interestingly, that challenge hasn't become any easier over the years. Every vintage still asks new questions. Every blend still challenges our palates.

But over the years, I've come to realise that families are a lot like wine blends.

Each person brings something unique. Some provide structure. Some bring warmth. Some are bold and expressive, while others quietly hold everything together in the background. Their individual qualities matter, but it's their combination that creates something special.

The same is true for heritage.

The Grandfather I Never Knew

We call our Cape Blend John David, named after my grandfather.

He was the only grandparent I never had the opportunity to know.

I know stories about him. I've seen photographs. I've heard family members speak about him over the years. Yet I never got to sit on his lap, hear his voice, or create memories of my own.

It's a curious thing, missing someone you've never met.

When we named the wine, I realised it was my way of remembering him. Not because I knew him personally, but because he remains part of the story that led to where we are today.

And perhaps that's what heritage really is.

Not just the stories we know, but also the ones we don't.

The people whose influence we can clearly see, and those whose impact quietly lives on through generations. The values, traditions and characteristics that get passed down, sometimes without us even noticing.

The Known and the Unknown Heritage Meets

The older I get, the more aware I become of those threads.

I see them in family gatherings. Around a dinner table. I see them in family recipes, like my mom's hoender bobotie, which we're now serving on our own wine stoep. I see them in the stories we've heard countless times and still enjoy hearing again.

I see them in the next generation too.

As parents, we often worry about whether we're doing enough. But perhaps some of the most important things we pass on aren't things at all. They're the memories we create, the traditions we continue and the sense of belonging we give to the people we love.

This Heritage Month, I'll be thinking about both the known and the unknown.

The family members whose stories I know by heart, and those I know only through the stories of others.

The generations who came before us, and those who will follow after us.

And perhaps, as guests enjoy a plate of my mom's hoender bobotie with a glass of John David on our wine stoep, they'll be reminded of something similar in their own lives.

Because heritage isn't only found in history books.

Sometimes it's found in a family recipe, a story told around a table, or a grandfather you never had the chance to know.

Till next time.