
Snoek & Kreef
Wine & Food
In an actual cave right by the sea, less than a ten-minute walk from Hermanus harbor, the restaurant Bientang's Cave still serves snoek pâté today, while snoek itself — a long, oily predatory fish from cold waters, and the bread-and-butter fish of this coast — is traditionally grilled over an open fire and brushed with a sweet apricot jam. Whales show their backs just outside the window.
This combination of fat, smoke, and sweetness calls for acidity, or the fish quickly feels heavy. A Sauvignon Blanc from one of the coastal wards, with its notes of green fig and grapefruit, cuts right through that fat. Its salty finish picks up on the fish's own salinity rather than drowning it out.
Kreef, as the rock lobster from the bay is known locally, demands exactly the opposite: restraint. Between mid-December and the end of March, fishermen pull it straight from the cold water off Gansbaai. Its flesh is so delicate that too powerful a wine would flatten it outright. A creamy, oak-aged Chardonnay, with its notes of citrus peel and oyster shell, instead plays on the same level as the meat itself. It doesn't just roll over it.
Surprisingly, it's the light Pinot Noir that pairs beautifully with heartier dishes like grilled springbok or braised lamb from the pastures around Bot River. It tastes remarkably good alongside red meat. Its fine tannins and bright fruit never come across as thin — they're weighted just right.
Pinotage from Southern Right calls for something smoky and hearty off the grill, since its firmer tannins need fat to round them out — much like with snoek. Where dairy cattle once grazed alone, each of these wines now meets its match in a dish, just as tied to this one bay as the wine itself.