This tasting felt different from the outset, in a good way. It wasn’t overly formal, and it didn’t try too hard to impress. It was simply a room full of people genuinely curious about what was in the glass, guided by Preet Sahota from Edgmond Wines, who strikes a nice balance between knowing his subject and keeping things relaxed.

Edgmond Wines itself feels like a business built properly from the ground up. It began as a passion project and has grown into something more serious without losing that sense of curiosity. The focus is very much on smaller producers, particularly from South Africa, and Preet clearly believes the country is one of the most exciting places in wine right now. That came through early on when he mentioned that 2025 is shaping up to be a “vintage year” there. It sounded like a bold claim at the time, but looking into it afterwards, it holds up — reports from the industry consistently describe 2025 as an exceptional harvest, with balanced ripening, strong structure and high‑quality fruit across both reds and whites. So there was a sense that we were tasting wines with real pedigree behind them, not just random selections.

The evening opened with a Truida MCC, which did exactly what a good sparkling should do — reset the palate, get people talking and ease everyone in. It was fresh, clean and uncomplicated in the best sense. From there we moved into the whites, starting with a Grenache Blanc from Schenkfontein. It had a bit more weight than people expected, with soft pear and citrus notes and a slightly rounded texture. It wasn’t trying to be flashy, just quietly solid. The Grenache Gris that followed was more divisive: some people really liked the slightly savoury edge and texture, others weren’t convinced, but it definitely got people talking — which is half the point.

Then came the reds, and the mood in the room shifted slightly. People sat up a bit straighter, conversations paused, and there was a sense that this was where things would get interesting. The One Movement Tannat had been circled from the start and didn’t disappoint. Big, dark and structured, with the proper grip you look for in a wine like this, it delivered the full‑bodied, black‑fruited, spicy character Tannat is known for without tipping into being overbearing. It was the kind of wine that makes you slow down and think about it, and you could tell from the reaction around the tables that it landed well. For those of us who lean towards bigger reds, it was easily the highlight of the night.

The Petit Verdot that followed was another serious wine — perhaps a bit more structured and a little less immediately enjoyable, but still interesting. It felt like something you’d want to revisit with the right piece of food rather than judge in isolation.

By the time the Winkelshoek Cape Vintage was poured, the room had relaxed again. It was rich and comforting, full of plum, dark fruit and a touch of mocha, and it worked nicely as a way to bring everything back together at the end.

One of the more memorable parts of the evening wasn’t actually about a particular wine, but the discussion that developed around cork versus screwcap. Preet mentioned examples involving Penfolds and ageing, which opened up a lively debate across the group. There’s clearly still a lot of attachment to cork, but the interesting part is that when people taste blind, most can’t reliably tell the difference between closures. It’s one of those topics where tradition and perception still carry as much weight as the science, which is probably why it became such a good conversation point.

More than anything, what stood out was the atmosphere. It wasn’t a room full of people trying to prove how much they knew. It was people tasting, comparing, changing their minds and going back for another sip just to be sure. The Tannat kept coming up in conversation, which probably tells you everything you need to know about how the evening went.

What I also liked was the sense that this wasn’t a one‑off. There’s already something to look forward to in September, with plans to explore a different mix again — including what sounds like a slightly unusual Carmenère from New Zealand. That caught my attention straight away. Carmenère is so closely associated with Chile that seeing it grown somewhere like New Zealand feels unexpected, and having spent some time in Chile last April, it’s a grape that’s become quite personal. There’s something about that deep, slightly herbal, dark‑fruited character that stays with you, especially when you’ve experienced it where it really belongs. Trying a New Zealand take on it should be interesting, if only to see how it compares and whether it keeps any of that identity or becomes something completely different.

Overall, the evening did exactly what a good tasting should do. It introduced a few things people wouldn’t normally pick up, sparked debate and left everyone talking about at least one wine on the way out. And yes — the Tannat was very much one of those wines.