Such is the success of the Goats Do Roam label in capturing the imagination of the humour-starved wine world that its brand name redirects to an actual ‘Wine humour‘ page on Wikipedia.
The page isn’t that long, but good on Charles Back for getting his name on there.
I remember Goats Do Roam from my pre-nerd wine drinking days, and I remember being half-aware that it was a good pun, even though I didn’t know a Côtes du Rhône from a Pouilly-Fumé at the time. (God, what an idiot I was!)
The short end to the long introduction is that this is the first time I’ve seen (probably) or bought (definitely) anything to do with GDR since my teenage years.
That’s a long time.
Look at Mr. Goatfather there on the label: he speaks of opulence and eminence. He may be an anthropamorphised goat on a bottle of wine, but boy, he’s got class. He’s an aspirational figure.
I just had to buy this, despite it being slightly outside of my usual price range; aside from my excitement at seeing an old friend in such a glorious state of prosperity, I was intrigued by the Mafia-sub-theme that ran through into what sounded like an inventive (or at least exotic) blend.
Being Sangiovese, Cab Sav and Barbera (not necessarily in that order), it seemed like a great addition to my recent (accidental) forray into classically Italian wines made by New world producers.
The result?
A riotously good mix of spices and juices wafting from a thick, deep purple glass of wine. It has the blueberry acidity of Sangiovese with a meatier kick of blackberries, brambles and tannins that comes from the Cab Sav and, presumably, the Barbera (it’s not something I’m altogether familliar with). Imagine a sweet, fruity version of Bovril and you’re getting close.
The Goatfather’s on the leggier side of things at 14.5% and looks beautifully gooey oozing down the sides of the glass: all in all, it’s a delight; a fine ambassador for the Goats Do Roam brand, and for South African wine in general.
It might just be the (unlikely) bottle that leads a resurgance of interest into that nation, for me, as it seems looking at my list of reviews over the last year or so that it’s a location I’ve sadly (and completely unintentionally) neglected.
Anyone who can make this fine a product from Italian grapes is worth a look in – and it doesn’t hurt that the French AOC police are upset with them either.
Furthermore, anyone who owns a goat tower has my eternal respect and envy.
I picked up this bottle from a charming wine shop in Wapping, called Wapping Wine Merchants, I think, where it’s about £13, and nobody bats an eyelid of you roll up sweating and drunk on Saturday evening dressed as the devil.
Can’t find it online but it’s just up from Wapping tube station. Right a bit – or East, as it’s also known. You can’t miss it.
Image by Victoria Velky.
