Table Mountain, Thabo, and the Perfect Pour

A love letter to the evening that turned wine into time travel

I thank the sunset. And Thabo. And that bottle of Chenin Blanc that changed everything. But mostly I thank Cape Town for being ridiculously, unfairly romantic on what was supposed to be a simple dinner date.

You know how some memories take on an almost mythical quality? Like your brain decided to apply a rose-colored filter the whole thing before storing it away? That's what happened that evening at the marina, with Table Mountain imposing in the backdrop and the waters of the Atlantic Ocean providing the kind of ambient soundtrack you usually have to pay good money for on a meditation app.

There we were, sitting at this romantic table complete with a candle that flickered in the breeze, and a view of the sunset. The boats in the marina bobbed gently in the water, and the air had that perfect mix of salt and sea that makes you feel like you're in a luxury perfume commercial. The sky was lit up with pinks and reds but there was still some blue on the horizon near Table Mountain.

Enter Thabo, our waiter, with perfect timing. He had that knowing smile that seasoned waiters get when they're about to elevate your entire evening.

"Good evening, I'm Thabo," he said, and I swear there was a twinkle in his eye.

We managed to articulate that we wanted sushi, we always loved to try the fresh fish in a new place. Then came the question that would change everything: "What would you recommend with the sushi?"

"For this evening's selection, might I recommend a special South African Chenin Blanc?" Thabo suggested, and I'll never forget how he pronounced it perfectly, making my mental "Chen-IN Blank" sound like something a wine amateur would say. (Which, let's be honest, I absolutely am. Its Chen – een Blanc)

"No, tell us more," we said, trying to sound like people who regularly discussed wine varietals and didn't just pick bottles based on how cool the labels were.

Thabo launched into this beautiful explanation about how South Africans call it 'Steen', (I’m pretty sure I know a waiter with that name), and how it's used in brandy production, and pairs well with both fish and barbecue chicken. He had me at a boutique winery in Stellenbosch.

The wine arrived, golden as the sunset, and we clinked glasses like we knew what we were doing. And then... holey moley. It was like someone had bottled sunshine and added notes of "where have you been all my life?" The sushi arrived soon after – a work of art that made me feel guilty for even thinking about eating it.

There were these incredible pieces of salmon, tuna, and local yellowtail nigiri that looked too perfect to be real. The chef had gotten creative with Cape Malay-spiced tempura prawns and rooibos-smoked trout, for that special Cape Town touch. We loved the meal and ordered another bottle of wine. The warm African night was magical.

Now, years later, whenever I see a bottle of Chenin Blanc, I'm transported back to that evening. It's become our thing – our wine. And yes, it pairs beautifully with everything from fish to steak, but let's be honest: what it really pairs best with is memory.

Side note for wine fans: Chenin Blanc, aka 'Steen' in South Africa, is like the Swiss Army knife of wines. They make everything from sparkling varieties that'll give Champagne a run for their money, to sweet dessert wines that'll ruin your diet in the best possible way. You'll find it mainly in the Loire Valley in France and all over South Africa, especially around Paarl, where they treat it like a national treasure.

And they should. Because sometimes a wine is more than just a wine. Sometimes it's a time machine in a bottle, taking you back to a perfect evening when everything – the sunset, the sushi, the company – aligned just right. Though I still maintain the sunset was showing off.