Paddling about in Paarl Perlé

A pearl of a risotto. (Photo: Anna Trapido)

7 Mar 2025

I noticed that a two-litre jug of Paarl Perlé could be mine for a remarkably reasonable price. Seldom has R66 been so well spent.

Students are seldom censured for pouring plonk down their throats but, as we get older, imbibing inexpensive, mass-produced wine becomes socially stigmatising. Paarl Perlé is the sort of stuff that adults with elegant aspirations are encouraged to set aside.

Design snobs sneer at the thick glass, one and two-litre bottles with screw caps and (horror of horrors) a handle. I do not dispute carrying container ugliness but surely what we find within the belittled bottles ought to be assessed independently?

Unfortunately, it isn’t. There are a few TikTok tastings, but the formal wine press seldom mentions Paarl Perlé. On the rare occasions that they do, the tone always implies that people like “us” don’t drink rotgut like that.

Until recently, I knew nothing about Paarl Perlé beyond its use as the punchline in jokes about undergraduate excess. Now I know better.

My Damascene conversion came about as the result of unseasonably unpleasant weather that left me longing for risotto alla sbirraglia. This comfortingly creamy, chicken-laden Italian culinary classic can be roughly translated as occupier’s or policeman’s chicken — sbirraglia being an archaic, derogatory slang term used about Austro-Hungarian soldiers who occupied the Veneto region in the late 19th century.

Local women would poach a castrated capon

Legend has it that the invaders forced subjugated farming families to feed them. This made local women so angry that they would poach a castrated capon and rip it apart with their bare hands, the whole while imagining that this was the fate of their thuggish overlords. The torn flesh served to the Austro-Hungarian intruders was padded out with rice cooked in the poultry poaching liquid.

Having spent more than I meant to on Parmesan cheese and risotto rice, I was wandering along the aisles of my local bottle store looking for an inexpensive white wine with which to deglaze my pot. For anyone unfamiliar with the risotto making method, tostatura (the toasting of the rice) is the moment that matters most. It is essential for both the taste and texture of the finished dish. Wine is added once the grains are almost popping hot. As liquid hits the pot, the rice should sing.

Surveying the shelves, I noticed that a two-litre jug of Paarl Perlé could be mine for a remarkably reasonable R66. I hesitated momentarily, wondering how bad it could be. Maybe very bad, but the bargain hunter in me was intrigued. So, I took it to the till.

They say never drink wine with a handle — but what if everyone is wrong? (Photo: Anna Trapido)

Seldom has R66 been so well spent. The toasted rice positively trilled in response to a generous glug of budget booze. Gentle froth lifted lovely little nuggets of stuck, slightly caramelised onion, garlic, carrot, celery and rosemary fond from the bottom of the pot. Not even I need 2 litres of liquid to deglaze a pot. Which is why I poured the remaining plonk into my guests’ glasses.

It is one thing to boil it up with bacon, but drinking is different. So, I waited for comments with breath that was bated. Perhaps I need fancier friends because, while it was not prize-winningly wonderful, we all thought that the Paarl Perlé was perfectly pleasant.

I feel foolish spouting wine anorak speak about this deeply déclassé drink, but having come this far I may as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb. So, here goes…

Strikingly similar to most Prosecco

Chilled and sipped, there were fragrant cling peach, honeyed, nutty notes (definitely almond and I thought perhaps toasted hazelnut too). The wine’s rounded edges complemented those qualities in the risotto while its (dare I say it) elegant acidity brought balance. Softly pettilant, almost imperceptible bubbles created a mild-mannered mouth tingle and the sense of slight specialness on an otherwise ordinary evening.

I found the overall effect to be strikingly similar in taste and texture to most Prosecco. While Champagne and MCC bubbles are assertive and persistent, Prosecco’s are light and do not linger. They are bigger than those of Paarl Perlé but they engender an equivalent glittery glow. The parallels with Prosecco should not come as a surprise since almost all of the aforementioned Italian fizz is also created as cheap, cheerful everyday easy drinking wine. Often it is only the exchange rate that makes some South Africans think that Prosecco is posh.

Risotto on a rainy day is always wonderful. Risotto alla sbirraglia is especially so. The umami intensity of Parmesan, bacon and butter-fried chicken meet aromatic, earthy rosemary. It is difficult to describe the depth and gravitas brought by this herb. Not quite bitter, not quite medicinal. If apothecary-ish were a word, then the flavour I am describing would be that. Part essential oil. Part herbal remedy. Part spiritual healer.

My made-up word becomes even more apt when one considers that Paarl Perlé plays a part in ibhavu rituals undertaken by some South African sangomas. In isiZulu the word ibhavu means bath — not only the vessel in which people splash about but also a particular type of spiritual cleansing. It often (but not always) involves mixing the wine with water and salt (as well as other ingredients). Those in need of purification are washed in Paarl Perlé.

Infused into the nation’s spiritual sense of self

It is not the only alcohol involved in South African spirituality. While sorghum beer has been essential to ancestral libations since time immemorial, brands such as Old Buck Gin and Commando Brandy have been incorporated into life stage transition ceremonies (such as baby naming, initiation and weddings) for more than a century. They are infused into the nation’s spiritual sense of self. What grows together, goes together is increasingly used to promote local food and wine pairings, but the definition of what “goes” means in our context is wider. And more wonderful.

Prosecco is mostly made in north-eastern Italy, specifically the Veneto, which may be why the Paarl Perlé worked so well with this region’s chicken risotto. I am in no way knocking “better” booze. I am merely observing that it is a good quality, mass-produced product that I would happily drink again. There is a time and place for all sorts of wine, and in this time and place I created an unexpectedly magnificent meal by pairing Paarl Perlé with a hearty, homestyle risotto.

While I haven’t yet bathed in it, I quite fancy the idea. In these troubled times, most of us have negative energies that we would like to wash off. The generous volume of liquid in each bottle (and the helpful pouring handle) certainly makes paddling about in Paarl Perlé possible.

Risotto alla sbirraglia

A pearl of a risotto. (Photo: Anna Trapido)

Serves 6-8 (if none of you are greedy or drunk but with 2 litres of Paarl Perle floating about the kitchen, this recipe probably serves 4 happy, hearty eaters)

2 celery stalks, peeled and finely chopped

1 large white onion, peeled and finely chopped

2 medium carrots, peeled and finely chopped

6 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil

2 garlic cloves, lightly crushed

1 sprig of rosemary, leaves removed and chopped

6 slices pancetta or bacon, diced

1 chicken, jointed, or 6 chicken thighs on the bone, poached with the poaching liquid reserved to be used as stock.

20g salted butter

100ml white wine

300g carnaroli, arborio or other risotto rice

1 litre warm chicken stock (from the poached chicken)

50g parmesan, finely grated

Method

First gently fry the celery, onions and carrots in olive oil over a low heat. When the onions are soft and beginning to caramelise, add the garlic, rosemary and pancetta/bacon and cook for a further 10 minutes.

While the vegetables are softening, remove and discard the chicken skin and bones. By discard, I of course mean call your dog and allow him/her to feast in the garden.

Pull the flesh into rough pieces. Season the skinless flesh. Take a second pan, melt half the butter and add the chicken. Fry over a medium heat until golden, then set aside. Ignore all petitioning from the aforementioned pooch for pieces of chicken flesh.

Add the rice to the vegetable pan and turn up the heat. When the rice is piping hot add the wine and deglaze the bottom of the pan. The wine will boil and be absorbed/evaporate.

Reduce the heat and gradually add the warm chicken stock (one ladle at a time) into the rice mixture, stirring with each addition. Each time the stock is absorbed add another ladle. After about a litre of stock and about 30 minutes of stirring, the rice will be almost tender. Tip in the fried chicken pieces and any meat juices and cook for a further 10 minutes by which time the rice should have a creamy consistency.

Take the pan off the heat and mix in the Parmesan and remaining butter. Cover the pot and let it stand for a few minutes. Season to taste and serve in warm bowls with a glass of chilled Paarl Perlé. Feel very happy.

If you want to push the Paarl connection, you can garnish with suring (aka Oxalis pes-caprae/ wild Cape sorrel) which would support the wine in cutting through the opulent creamy loveliness of the rice. DM

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