The really new world of wine

 While debate rages on whether South African wine is old world, new world or half-way in-between, Graham Howe explores the flavours of the really new world of wine from Asia - while tasting his way through the exotic cuisine of Indo-China in October. 
 
Hmm. I wonder which wine would go with deep-fried buffalo skin and Mekong weed (the edible not combustible kind) - or buffalo consommé with betel leaf? You can have water buffalo, an exotic specialty of Laos in southeast Asia, any way you want - buffalo tartar, buffalo sausage, buffalo tripe, buffalo salad, buffalo burger and buffalo ragout (with bitter leaves). The spicy, sweet, sour and pungent herbal flavours in a colonial fusion of classic French and traditional Laotian cuisine are a challenge.

Dining alone, I read the wine-list for company over dinner at the Settha Palace - a boutique hotel set in a charming old French colonial building in Vientiane, capital of Laos. A fair selection ran from Australian brand house-wines to a range of wines from Bordeaux to Burgundy and beyond - from Dubouef Beaujolais at US$29 to a good Chablis, Graves or Medoc at US$49 and Vosnee-Romanee at the top-end US$99.

The wine-lists in exotic Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam are surprisingly good at fine dining as well as ordinary restaurants - as you might expect in the former French colonies of Indo-China. Wine shops and wine bars stock a good selection of vintage wines from French producers as well as familiar household brands from Australia. But "local is lekker" is my mantra. When abroad, I always keep an eye out for the local flavour of the wine, beer, spirits and food of the region where I'm travelling.

On a teak terrace in a tropical garden courtyard redolent with the sweet aromas of frangipani - the national flower of Laos - I enjoyed sampling Thai Chenin Blanc from GranMonte, PB Valley Khao Yai Winery and Chateau de Loei I bought en route in Bangkok. Laos is famous for its full-bodied beer, Burma (Myanmar) for its military junta and the highest vineyard in Asia (Aythaya at 4265 feet on the road to Mandalay) - and Thailand for its "little Tuscany", a fledgling wine industry started in the 1990s.

Wine writers talk about "new latitude wines" - led by China (the world's sixth largest producer with 500 wineries and tourist drawcards like Chateau Changyu winery), Japan (with 200 wineries like the cult Grace Winery and Suntory) and India - joined by newer producers from Bali and Cambodia to Vietnam. Thailand has pioneered new, high-altitude viticulture between the tropical 14th to 18th parallels - a long way from the home of wine in the northern and southern hemispheres. Drawing on French and German expertise - and Thai winemakers trained in Europe - Thailand's new latitude wineries have won awards for Chenin blanc, Shiraz and Tempranillo exports.

In Planet Wine (Mitchell Beazley, 2004), wine writer Stuart Piggott comments, "Bizarre as it might sound, our favourite holiday destination in southeast Asia now produces enough wine to export - the best red and white Thai wines are up to international standards...The all-Thai team at Chateau de Loei is proving that you don't need centuries of tradition to make vibrantly fruity and wonderfully crisp dry wines from Chenin Blanc... the combination of a remarkable climactic niche and perfectionism makes Chenin wonders possible." The fragrant tropical potpourri in my Chateau de Loei Chenin Blanc (made in extra-dry, off-dry, dessert and rose styles) was great with the spicy flavours of Laotian fare of chilli, coriander, mint and lime.

Loei lies in north-east Thailand across the mighty Mekong from Laos. The vineyards of Indo-China are growing into a tourist attraction. Rail travellers on the Oriental Express from Bangkok to Vientiane stop off at the Khao Yai Winery for a tasting and a tour of the winery, restaurant and resort started by "the beer baron of Thailand" who owns the Singha lager empire. Next I headed to northern Laos, leaving behind the broad boulevards, towering victory gate (the "arc de triomphe"), riverfront restaurants and wine bars, villas and temples of Vientiane - the fourth in a quartet of romantic French capitals of Indo-China I visited in 2009 (Hanoi, Saigon and Phnom Penh).

I flew north to Luang Prabang, the ancient royal capital of the "kingdom of a million elephants" - and a UNESCO world heritage site which is to Laos tourism what Angkor Wat is to Cambodia. Hundreds of thousands come to the Buddhist centre of Laos (if not the universe) on the Mekong to visit thirty glittering temples and the grand royal palace with its gilded thrones, golden Buddha, chandeliers and silk murals. Every morning this spiritual town resonates with the om chants of monks - and hundreds of villagers and visitors line the streets on prayer mats at dawn to offer alms (rice, fruit and sweets) to a saffron wave of hundreds of acolytes in a timeless medieval ritual.

According to alms etiquette, nothing higher than a monk is allowed in the village during the sacred ceremony - no cars, 4x4s or tall tourists unless on your knees like me. Everyone gets fed daily this way from the monks to the poor and stray dogs.

I was in the right place at the right time. The full moon in early October marks the end of the Buddhist Lent, celebrated after three austere months of fast and meditation. In temples built centuries ago, monks and villagers were busy making colourful paper lanterns to hang in the streets and pagodas at night - and bamboo boats decorated with marigold flowers, candles and incense to float on the Mekong. I watched teams of oarsmen from each village compete in the annual "course de pirogue" (boat racing festival) - a tribute to the sacred river spirit, which brings life, prosperity and fertility.

Out on the Mekong, I made my own pilgrimage which had more to do with rice spirit than the river spirit. I wanted to find the source of the local lao lao, the potent spirit made from fermented rice. Taking a long boat upstream on the Mekong - meaning "he mother of all rivers" - we floated passed rice paddies, orchards and vegetable gardens planted on the fertile banks. We followed our noses to the jarmaker's village - where backyard distillers were fermenting rice in ceramic jars and brewing moonshine in drums over coals. The potent spirit of the Mekong takes your breath away - especially bottles for the brave with pickled scorpions and snakes "for strength".

Back in Luang Prabang, I contemplated a French/Lao fusion menu and wine-list at my boutique hotel featured in the global Design Hotel 2009 (like Grand Daddy and Ten Bompas in South Africa). Set in grand bamboo and teak villas built in 1898, 3 Nagas (meaning guardian river serpents), was originally built for the deliberations of the royal court and the supplier of ice-cream to the royal family. After deliberating whether I wanted my riz (rice) a la vapeur (steamed), gluant (sticky) or sauté (fried), I enjoyed a glass of Thai Chenin from across the border to go with my tender young bamboo shoot soup, stuffed lemongrass and river catfish wrapped and steamed in banana leaves. I sipped my lao lao firewater from the jarmaker's village - and contemplated the old banyan tree from my veranda where the monks pass by at dawn at the daily alms-giving.