Spotlight on Portuguese Dry Wine: Chryseia Post Scriptum Douro 2004

My new profile holds a place close to my heart. When I visited Spain on vacation one year ago, I happened to be one of those travellers who was stranded by the erupting Icelandic Volcano. Instead of wallowing in frustration, my partner and I decided to take an impromptu trip to Oporto in Portugal. Thank God we did, as Portugal ended up as one the favourite stops I’ve made in Europe.

Port is, of course, Portugual’s dominant wine export, though stagnant sales have prompted the top houses to look to dry wines to increase sales. Word of increasing interest in the dry wines has reached North American shores but access to the actual wines remains spotty. Additionally, there isn’t much critical attention on the most interesting wines being made. Part of this is a marketing problem with some of Portugal’s wineries who have poor branding and make far too many wines. However, part of it has to do with critics writing off an entire country after tasting only a few wines or, simply, minimal attention given how many other wines struggle for attention these days. Of course, our proximity to the U.S. and Australia has helped make those wines amongst the top selling in the Province next to perennial France (cache really does work sometimes). But the Portuguese wine scene is, perhaps, one of the most exciting in the world right now and it is damn time that someone pay attention to these wines.

Add to that that most wines in Portugal are made with indigenous grapes and have a character unlike anywhere else, that prices are disturbingly low for the quality, and that most of the better producers are only going to improve, then you have a recipe for a truly exciting wine hot spot.

Bordeaux Meets Douro

Chryseia is one of Portugal’s star names, which means, of course, that no one here has heard of it. A joint venture between the Symmington Family (one of Oporto’s great names, with holdings including Dow’s, Graham’s, and Quinta do Vesuvio) and Bruno Prats of Cos d’Estournel, this winery was established to make a premium red blend from grapes grown in the Douro Valley. While grapes for the first vintages came from Symmington’s port holdings, the duo have since purchased vineyards in the Rio Torto Valley solely for the purpose of making Chryseia’s two dry reds: the eponymous wine and this, the second wine Post Scriptum.

I should note that holdings in Portugal can be confusing to follow as acquisitions and mergers abound. Symmington now sources most of its grapes for dry reds from the vineyards previously owned by Quinta do Roriz (owned by Van Zeller). The name and vineyards have, since 2009, switched over to the Symmingtons – though given our ridiculous laws and delays in shipping the wines in this market are quite a bit older. Thus, the Post Scriptum I am reviewing today represents only the 3rd vintage of this wine, made from totally different vineyards than if you bought it today – i.e. the vineyards now exclusively used for Chryseia. Nonetheless, it represents the style that Chryseia is going for and is an excellent representation of changes in the Portuguese dry wine industry as a whole.

Elegance and Expression

This is serious wine, and totally unexpected. The nose evokes classic Bordeaux – that’s right, this is not a big alcoholic, fruity, heavily extracted red. Rather it has near cool climate expressivity with blackcurrant, blackberry, graphite and stoney mineral. The weight of this wine is shocking. I expected something huge and dense but this is medium bodied and elegant as hell. The fruit is moderate (likely exacerbated by the 7 years bottle age), but the secondary characteristics here are impressive: stone, pencil lead and chalky tannins. The finish seems to lack a little stuffing and I think this wine is on its downward curve now, but this is very good, honest wine, that is shockingly elegant for such a hot climate. No one would peg it as Portuguese in a blind.

And keep in mind that this is only the third vintage of the second wine from this estate. I will certainly be seeking the big boy whenever I get the chance. I feel effusive beginning this spotlight with this wine. I was expecting to be surprised, given my experiences in Portugal last year, but to be this shocked with the first wine was just darn cool and is something that doesn’t happen too often. So here’s to being open minded. 40% Touriga Franca, 40% Touriga Nacional, 20% Tinta Roriz.

Very Good+
$40 at Liberty Wine Merchants

Spotlight on Spain: Rioja or What Makes Good Wine Great

Rioja is Spain’s most famous wine region. In fact, to many Rioja is Spain’s icon wine region, reaching that apotheosis where a place name immediately indicates style and quality. But, how did Rioja get to the level of prestige it now enjoys?

Certainly consistency in quality has been a big factor, not to mention a historical connection with the French practice of aging wine in oak barrels (although the Riojans add the unique touch of using mostly old American oak for extended periods of time). There is, too, the moderate pricing compared to most of the world’s great wines – this helps to bring many sommeliers and wine aficionados into the equation, pushing the essential ‘value’ of Rioja. Of course, alongside the relative international value that Rioja offers is its domestic status and high price by Spanish standards.

The prevalence of Rioja on wine lists within Spain cannot be discounted as an important factor, both with the domestic consumers and with tourists visiting the country. The current trend (both climatically and stylistically) towards greater ripeness might also be contributing to the increased interest in Rioja amongst the North American crowd. The ability of the wines to age and improve in nuance and delicacy is also a significant factor.

But all of these elements speak only to how good wine becomes famous or reputable – none of these answers help us with the deeper and much more difficult question: how does good wine become great?

Culture and history likely play a part here – but historically the current form of Rioja is as much a product of the downfall of French vineyards in the 19th century than it is of anything distinctly Spanish. Then again, how far can one go in looking for ‘roots’ to ground the greatness of a wine. As global warming is making inescapably apparent, the meaning of place is also ever changing, and ‘culture’ – one of the bugbears of Europe – is not always about tradition.

Great wines also seem to need a profound difference and distinctness from everything else that is out there and, often, a unique, singular and important contribution to the international world of wine. What is Rioja’s contribution? It offers a unique expression of Tempranillo and uses methods unlike those used most elsewhere. However, these traditions are being lost in the wave of internationalism. And, despite what I have read about Rioja, the traditionalists are, at least in my experience, losing the battle. Too many of the modern style wines are making it onto wine lists and consumers’ shopping lists.

In fact, I might even venture to claim that Rioja is becoming emblematic for Spain not just for its traditions, but more for the evisceration of historical methods and grapes in favour of internationalism. In fact, this is a trend that has come to dominate the majority of Spanish wines available. While certainly offering more variety in the ‘value’ category than places like Argentina and Australia, the momentum towards internationalization has had the effect of dumbing down the wines of Spain and of giving increasing prevalence to such unfortunate varieties as Cabernet Sauvignon, Sauvignon Blanc, and Chardonnay. The recent changes to the Rioja DOC will allow some of these international grapes to be grown and blended into the wines.

Rioja’s structure of thousands of small growers supplying the larger houses does not help this situation since growers tend to be beholden to the giants. Of course, and luckily, there are a few staunch traditionalists that will help to maintain some of the most important aspects of Rioja’s tradition, and there is probably no danger of Tempranillo losing pride of place to other grapes. However, other regions of Spain, such as Somontano and Jumilla are already capitalizing on the appetite for international varieties. But, at what cost?

One of the saddest experiences I had in Spain was the sheer volume of boring internationalized wines I came across and the relegation of the truly interesting wines to a handful of specialty shops and high end restaurants. The grass is greener adage seemed apropos to many of my experiences in the country.

So, wherein lies Rioja? Rioja is still bobbing its head higher than the majority of Spanish wine regions, but it seems to me that it is also succumbing to some unfortunate trends. The modernization of Rioja should be about distinctiveness and about finding contemporary expressions of traditional techniques, methods and beliefs. If Rioja goes to the point of no return by increasing the use of new wood, by over-expressing the consistently greater ripeness of the grapes today compared to a decade ago, and by playing to certain perceptions of international palates, then it will be the beginning of a painful decline for the region. That there are only a handful of traditionalists left in a region with hundreds of wineries is the pronouncement of an unwelcome herald. Luckily, for now, there is still hope, and I managed to taste quite a few excellent wines from Rioja while in Spain. Here are some of my favourites:

Montecillo Reserva 1998: Subtle, earthy and beautifully silky drinking. Not as complex as the other two wines on this list, but the perfect example of classically made Rioja that pairs perfectly with subtly seasoned meats. Still showing fruit and acid. Very Good+ and about 30 euros on restaurant wine list (15 retail).

 

 

 

 

 

Muga Prado Enea Gran Reserva 2001: A truly exceptional wine with the potential for much longer aging. This was the most complex Rioja I tasted on the trip, and also the Rioja demanding the most contemplation. I find wines with this much nuance are often difficult to pair with food, not because they can’t combine to create very tasty harmonies with the right food, but because such pairings often mute some of the more interesting and exciting characteristics of the wine. That there is so much going on here, though, is certainly not a bad thing. Excellent and 34 euros retail.

 

Marques de Murrieta Reserva 2004: My favourite Rioja of the trip. This was exuberant but still soft and perfectly balanced. Exceptional fruit combined with restraint and a softer, more playful mouthfeel than many of the red wines I had in Spain. This wine is about sheer deliciousness more than anything else, but this is a deliciousness that derives from balance and aromatic expression rather than power and impact. Excellent and 35 euros on restaurant wine list (about 22 retail).

Spotlight on Spain: Bodegas Alion 1999

The recent unexpected volcanic eruption in Iceland has relegated me to another several days in Europe, with ample opportunity to reflect on my experiences in Spain. Over the past couple of weeks I´ve discovered that one of the peculiarities of Spanish wine service is that vintage is generally considered irrelevant to most drinkers and wine lists. It is also common to simply see, even at the better wine bars, a list of wines with such elaborate descriptions as “Ribera del Duero” or “Albarino”. Producer and vintage are conspiculously occluded by the basic tradition of drinking wine as a simple accompaniment to food and company. This attitude, to be honest, is overrated for someone trying to actually appreciate wine, even in an unpretentious way. While I agree that wine and food and company are essential pairings, it is also difficult to grow wine culture and appreciation without the details necessary for more thoughtful deliberation. Without this, wine is akin to your basic lager.

As a case in point, when I ordered this 1999 Alion off the bottle list at Madrid´s Tempranillo wine bar (considered one of the best in the city), the following discussion ensued:

Me: 1999 Alion por favor.

Waiter: oh we do not have 1999, only 2003 or 2004

Me: Oh that´s too bad, I like older wine.

Waiter (with quisical look): Oh, this is a crianza, not meant to age. We tried some they tasted like vinegar.

Me: Maybe it wasn´t cellared properly.

Waiter (looking confused): one minute

Another waiter comes back with the 1999 Alion and pours while telling me they generally don´t serve wines older than 2002.

First off, as most likely know, Alion only comes in one form, and is meant to age 10 or more years. Second, this strange attitude towards younger wines is actually not very in tune with the general spirit and tradition of Spanish wines, most of the classics of which are built to age. So why this curious attitude?

I don´t find this anecodote particularly interesting from the perspective of the wine elite or of the great afficionados of vintage; rather, I find it peculiarly insightful into the differences in wine culture between Canada and Spain. In Canada we have an almost religious reverance for vintage and producer – we talk about X wine from the latest hot producer and that X vintage produced some of the best fruit yet seen in the region. In Spain, place is wine. You don´t need to know such things as producer and vintage. What you need to know is the basic symbol of a particular tradition. Albarino and Rueda dominate the white wine scene here for their traditionally crisp and steel fermented styles that accompany seafood with such verve and alacrity. The Rioja and Ribera del Duero wines provide a moment of pause and reflection, with perhaps a chance at a great pairing with some of Spain´s classic Jamon.

So, in the end, it seems that culture and tradition are what focus our attention in wine service. There is no correct mode of serving or highlighting particular attributes of a wine – such endeavors are contextual and driven as much by our hopes and pretentions as by the objective characteristics of a wine.

As for the Alion? It was supple, laden with minerals and graphite and yet still youthful enough to offer exuberance and elegant pleasure. If all crianzas brought the drinker to this level, the reservas and gran reservas would be the figments of mythology. Alion tuly is one of Spain´s great `crianzas´, and I would rate it Excellent.

Look for more to come in the next several days.

Spotlight on Spain: Bodegas Izadi Vetus 2005

Zipping west back into Castile-Leon, today’s wine was made in the Toro region of Spain, sitting several miles west of Ribera del Duero and Rueda (to be profiled soon). The main variety here is Tinto de Toro (aka Tempranillo), the tradition of which winds its way back to the days just following the “departure” of the Moors after the Reconquista. The growing season here is bold and hot and the fruit ripens a full two weeks ahead of Rioja. There are elevations here too, with vineyards planted at 600-750 metres above sea level. The result? Thick skinned fruit, lots of extract, density and naturally high alcohol. The wines of Toro can’t be anything but bold. Apparently a small amount of white wines are made here from Malvasia and Verdejo, but I could find nothing of these in the BC market. I will definitely be on the look out when I am in Spain.

Limestone or clay form the base of the vineyards, with alluvial soil over top. The legal minimum alcohol content here is 12.5% (and a maximum of 15%), but you will commonly find wines at 14% or above, all from natural fermentation. The region’s extreme climate actually makes it fairly natural to have grapes producing wines at up to 16% alcohol, so winemakers need to be careful with their ripeness levels in order to meet the regulations. There are also Reservas and Gran Reservas made here, although nowhere to be found in this market, and they are known to have an uncommon ability to retain fruit and power even with long aging. Recently, Vega Sicilia has put its paws on some vineyard land in Toro, resulting in the fabulous Pintia wine, which I’ve both reviewed in my Vega Sicilia Profile and shared with Sean of Vinifico.com fame (we had the heady and absolutely massive 2003).

I love how these wines were famous in Spain during mediaeval times, lost recognition for a while, and are now seeing a resurgence, and all for the same reason: the massive fruit-bruising style of the wines, whose high alcohol resisted oxidation and which in the modern world combine power with texture and structure in a way that the New World is often still trying to figure out.

This wine is made in a modern style with a clean red fruit nose, adding notes of licorice and oak spice (namely, baking spices). The palate is quite dry, with huge but ripe tannins and a bevy of cherry and raspberry fruit lying on a bed of savory herbs and earth. Sporting a long finish, excellent structure, good integration and reasonable heat, this is very well made. I would not call this a wine of singular distinction, but it certainly tastes good. With its dusty tannins and dusty fruit I have no hesitation calling this a dusty wine. 14.5% ABV.

Very Good+
$44 at Kitsilano Wine Cellar

Spotlight on Spain: Lopez de Heredia Vina Tondonia Rosado 1993

Today’s entry, the last of the Rioja wines in my Spain profile, is somewhat of a genre-buster. As I’ve mentioned before, Rioja (and Spain generally) has a disparate and noncontiguous history, with Romans, multiple Christian kingdoms, Muslim invasion and the Reconquista, not to mention the civil war, the dictatorship and the process towards modern Spain. Each of these ‘eras’ has had a distinct impact on the Spanish wine industry. Whereas the Romans brought modern Roman wine-making technology and techniques to Spain in the 3rd century, the multiple Christian kingdoms brought their wealth and appetite for fine wine 1000 years later.

I don’t want to rehash Spain’s complex history here, suffice it to say that in Spain almost nothing fits a particular ‘genre’ or a particularly clear pattern or mold. This has provided the industry both a wealth of diversity, but also somewhat of a lack of clearly discernable personality. In many ways, this means that in Spain it makes more sense to approach a wine in a bit of a microcosm, looking at the history and tradition of that particular producer and that particular plot of land. Thus does the easy to say tradition vs. modernity debate in Spain actually become a series of threads that each sew together completely different histories and traditions into particular conceptions of the ‘modern’.

So, when it comes to legendary producer Lopez de Heredia, a winery sewn far more tightly into Rioja 100 years ago than into the present, and Rose, a style of wine commonly associated with light, fruity, easy drinking, you know that this particular meeting of tradition and modernity will be anything but easily pigeonholed.

Lopez de Heredia's Tondonia Vineyards in Winter

First off, Heredia, founded in 1877, harvests and selects all grapes by hand, uses wild yeasts and ferments in huge oak vats with a capacity of 240 hectolitres for the reds and 60 Hl’s for the whites. One might also take notice at the vast use of American oak barrels – 14,000 at last count – occupying 6000 square metres of cellar space. Heredia combines extended oak aging with considerable bottle aging before release to produce wines of singularity. I, for one, have never tasted any other wines quite like those from Lopez de Heredia.

So how do these threads of tradition and history combine to create what some consider to be Rioja’s most important pink wine? Well first off, the Rose is made from tempranillo, garnacha and viura (a white grape), in an intriguing blend that is very very dry, but also maintains some of the classic bright red fruit character one usually associates with the pink stuff. But that’s pretty much where the similarity ends. Remember, this wine is almost 17 years old! The rich and ripe cherry fruit on the nose becomes a terse and somewhat aggressive oxidative palate that yet retains persistence and elegance beyond any Rose you are likely to have tried. The combination of fruit and sherry-like oxidation makes this wine eminently food-worthy – pizza, jamon, almost anything at all, really.

That Spain can produce wines of such uniqueness next to modern fruit driven reds, bright and clean seafood friendly whites and smooth and silky earth driven classic wines is the embodiment of Spain’s tumultuous and non-linear history. The past several posts on Rioja are just such an indication of this complexity, as even this one famous region is nearly impossible to pin-down. In the next several posts I will be highlighting some of the lesser known regions and grapes of Spain, each with their own stories and traditions, and each with a particular take on why Spanish wine is a force any serious wine lover cannot ignore.

Very Good+ to Excellent
$45 at Kitsilano Wine Cellar

Spotlight on Spain: Miguel Merino Gran Reserva 1999

What is the distinction between tradition and modernity? The modern derives from the past, so the separation is not simply time. When we say ‘modern’ we tend to imply a break or change from what was. Thus, the distinction between tradition and modernity lies in philosophy rather than time – it is a shift in attitudes and perceptions. So what does it mean to bring modernity and tradition together? Can they subsist peacefully in the same room?

Miguel Merino is a producer that, to me, embodies this struggle. Merino is both a new wave artisanal producer, but also one who believes that the philosophies and approaches of the past have a lot to teach us. Jancis Robinson argues that wine making in Rioja is characterized far more by barrel maturation than fermentation techniques, with 225 litre barriques now being required by law. But, from where does this tradition emanate? The emigrating French winemakers fleeing phylloxera in the 19th century brought these barrel ageing techniques to Spain, and they have since stuck. Rioja’s unique twist has always been to use American oak rather than French, and to age the wines considerably before release. However, new producers are starting to introduce French cooperage, and this is sure to start changing the scope of the wines in the region.

So, what is tradition? As I intimated in my last post, tradition seems to be the unique confluence of historical perspectives. For me, Merino embodies this because he brings both the wine-making techniques that made modern Rioja what it is together with the new gesture towards approachability and fruit, without jettisoning the former for the latter.

In essence, wine from Miguel Merino tastes like it gestated in the womb of a traditionalist such as Lopez de Heredia or La Rioja Alta, but upon birth, gained the characteristics of an exuberant youth. And, gestation is the right word to use here because Merino believes in the tradition of releasing wines far later than the rest of the world. By using the monikers Reserva and Gran Reserva, Merino is remaining true to what producers like Finca Allende are avoiding – the long oak and bottle maturation process. This wine, the 1999 Gran Reserva (28 months in American Oak), is the current release from Merino, and is singing all the better because of it.

Made from 95% Tempranillo and 5% Graciano (an indigenous grape that promises great things), the wine glories in its forward raspberry, cherry and strawberry fruits, all wrapped up in dilly American oak. The gamey palate reiterates these aromas in your mouth and adds balance with wonderful secondary notes of cigar, and old oak. With air, this wine adds both graphite and gravitas and approximates a very good Bordeaux in style, elegance and substance.

Excellent
$60 at Marquis

Spotlight on Spain: Finca Allende Calvario 2002

Let’s speak of vintage. 2002 is considered by pretty much everyone in the wine world as a horrendous vintage for most of Europe. Lots of rain and snow and poor ripening along with plenty of rot ruined the crop for most vintners. But what, we might ask, is in a vintage? Time, history, climate, geography? Archaeological evidence suggests that the Romans started producing wine in Rioja thousands of years ago. The Moorish occupation of the Iberian peninsula did not put an end to production, and instead tolerated it. What did vintage mean to these peoples? What vintage can represent the diverse histories of a tradition?

The Christian reconquista of the 15th century saw the return of higher volume wine production in Spain, and Rioja. And the rest, well, that’s become the development of the modern industry in Spain. So, I ask again, what’s in a vintage? Can we think of it merely as the expression of the climate and geography of the few fleeting moments between dormant winter and fervent autumn? Or is vintage also history, ghost-like and ungraspable as it is?

Who’s to say, but this 2002 Calvario from the ‘new wave’ Finca Allende (started in 1995), spoke of wine making more than vintage, with dusty dark cherry notes and rich modern espresso. Hugh Johnson calls this wine “exuberantly fruity”, but he does not mention its density, which is formidable. The tannins give a masculinity to the cherry fruit and herbal finish. A difficult wine from a difficult time, inked in with little moments of pleasure.

Very Good
$70 at BCLDB, Marquis ($48 on sale)

Spotlight on Spain: La Rioja Alta Vina Ardanza Reserva 2000

Moving from Spain’s second most famous region to its most famous, today’s post will start to explore the world of Rioja. Rioja is an intriguing land that has a history which epitomizes the dialectic between tradition and modernity that is so much a part of Spain’s wine culture. Traditionally, wines in Rioja were made to emulate the style of Bordeaux by long term aging in wood and bottle before release. This was done because the domestic French wines had been decimated by phylloxera in the 1800’s and Rioja stepped up to fill the gap left by the destroyed French vineyards. It was not uncommon to see wines released decades after the vintage date. This practice has diminished over time, with a move towards more approachable and accessible wines released earlier. In fact, this new push in Rioja to produce modern wines has almost totally overwhelmed the traditional bodegas, so much so that there are almost none left.

The famous Lopez de Heredia (founded in 1877) is the most important traditional bodega (its current release of wines is from the 90’s), but La Rioja Alta (a family owned winery founded in 1890) is also very much making wines in the traditional style.

Of course, phylloxera’s insidiousness did eventually spread to Spain and most of the vineyards had to be ripped out and replanted in the 1920s.Civil war in Spain and the second World War essentially collapsed the industry even further and it was not until the 1950’s that Rioja started to regain its reputation and market share in international markets.

I find it interesting that after the world wars cheap Spanish wine started to be marketed as “Spanish Burgundy” and “Spanish Chablis” – these wines were so bad they damaged the reputation of Spain as a wine region. Does this remind anyone of Cellared in Canada and the mass produced plonk sold by most BCLDB outlets? As soon as Spain made it illegal to use those terms, Rioja (which was legally regulated for quality control in the vineyards and bodegas) finally started to build the reputation that it enjoys today. Clearly, effective regulatory regimes are essential for the development of an industry and British Columbia could learn a lot from the lessons of older and more established wine regions. The VQA is a step, but is not nearly as effective a tool as the D.O. system in Spain (which of course has its own issues). In order to brand and market B.C. (and Canadian) wine effectively, a little more attention needs to be paid to creating inducements to increased quality. Systems that subsidize or assist the branding of poor quality wines are not going to help the industry grow and improve quality.

In Spain once Rioja was given a DOCa grade (the highest grade for wine quality in Spain), the quality of the wines drastically improved to the point where it is now difficult to find poor quality wines from Rioja. Clearly, incentivizing quality is essential for the growth of an industry.

Now, turning to the region itself, it is important to know that wines from Rioja are not just made with grapes from the most prestigious region (known as Rioja Alta), but can also derive from places like Alava, Ebro and parts of Navarra. So, if you are looking for the highest quality grapes, you should look for wines made from grapes grown in Rioja Alta.

This wine made by the Bodega with the same name as the region in which it grows its grapes, is made with Tempranillo from the warmer parts of Rioja and so the skins are thicker, giving the wines more natural tannins. Along with Tempranillo, wines from La Rioja Alta often have Mazuelo and Graciano added to the blend (two indigenous grapes) for tannins, colour, freshness and aroma. The soils in Rioja Alta are clay based, alluvial, and have outcrops of iron and chalk-rich subsoil.

Without going into tremendous detail, I would note that the battle between modernity and tradition applies to viticulture and vinification beyond simply barrel aging for extended periods. For example, a traditional producer will use large wooden vats to allow for more natural fermentation. Modernists use epoxy-lined vats with temperature controls that allow for more precise wine making.

La Rioja Alta (the winery) owns about 300 hectares of land and makes both crianzas and reservas. The reservas can be somewhat confusing as there are two lines – the Arana and the Ardanza (indicating different vineyard selection). This wine, from the Ardanza series, is made in a spicier more ageable style than the Arana, which tends to be fruitier.

When I tasted this wine I immediately noticed its baking spices and vanillan character from the long aging in American Oak (which Riojans prefer to French). The dill characteristics classically indicative of American Oak were also present in the medium bodied wine. This is a soft and taught wine with cherries and earth and that classic, almost tired, feeling for many older red Riojas. This is not a wine about modern fruit, however, but is a wine about tradition married with the cleanliness and alacrity of modernity. You can taste time when you drink this wine, and that will prove to be a superb experience for many. For me? Well this is not my favourite Riojan traditionalist, but I appreciate their attention to tradition and quality and they certainly deserve the reputation they have.

Very Good
$55 at Liberty Wine Merchants

In the next few posts expect a look at the various styles of Rioja, including a glimpse at their rarely considered (but oh so brilliant) white wines.

Spotlight on Spain: Alejandro Fernandez Condado de Haza 2005

My next spotlight looks at a land with many histories, many traditions, many personalities and a flare for the confluence of modernity and tradition. It is also a land I will be visiting in about a month: Spain. I hope that this spotlight will serve to explore both the famous and not-so-famous regions of Spain, hopefully highlighting some of its lesser known D.O.’s and culminating in an in-the-flesh experience when I head there in person.

For me, Spain offers so much for the wine lover that one could spend a lifetime exploring the grapes and styles of Spain’s amazingly diverse wines. Spain also offers some of the best values in the wine world today. Forget Argentina and Chile – Spain is where you can get wines with flare, personality, depth, profundity, and litheness all for an excellent price.

The grapes for today’s wine were grown in Spain’s Ribera del Duero – the river valley that becomes the Douro in Portugal (the famous land of port). Ribera del Duero never used to be known for quality wine. Amazingly, in the last 20 years the region has completely reinvented itself, led by the venerable Vega Sicilia (see my profile of this famous estate), who set out to prove the region could make wines comparable to the best in France. While Vega Sicilia’s initial plan was to plant the French variety Cabernet Sauvignon, they discovered that it was in fact the indigenous variety Tempranillo that produced the greatest quality wines. Aging the wines for a long time in oak led to Vega Sicilia’s very distinct style.

However, other than Vega Sicilia, Ribera del Duero did not get much of any recognition until the producer of today’s wine sprung onto the scene: Alejandro Fernandez. Fernandez’s Tinto Pesquera was the first winery to make high quality Ribera del Duero wines that were not aged for a long time before release and which were a fraction of the cost of Vega Sicilia’s masterpieces. I think it is fair to say that Fernandez revolutionized the image of Ribera del Duero by focusing on quality. Even as the reputation of the region rose and fell (of course corresponding with grape prices), Fernandez never compromised on quality. This is a lesson for all B.C. wine makers who try to make wine for a certain palate at a certain price – throughout all the fluctuations and fortunes of Ribera del Duero, it was Fernandez’s focus on quality both in the vineyard and in wine making practices that allowed him to survive for so long. And now? Well Fernandez is one of the most respected names in Spain.

Today’s wine is from Fernandez’ “second” project Condado de Haza – with the quotation marks indicating that this winery is not producing wines of lesser quality than Pesquera – instead just a different style.

But before the wine, a little bit about the region. Ribera del Duero is actually a high elevation region, and as such, producers can have difficulty ripening grapes. This is somewhat contrary to Spain’s image as a warm climate region with easy ripening, and it might be hard to believe given the intense fruit of most Ribera del Duero wines. This intensity arises from two things. First, the climate is such that while days can reach temperatures of 40 degrees Celsius, it also has very cool nights that shut down the grapes’ metabolism. This allows the grapes to gain in fruit during the day, but also ensures that the vines and leaves don’t suck up all the nutrients at night, meaning all the soil’s minerals go directly into the grapes. Second, the high altitude deprives the vines of oxygen and increases the thickness of the grape skins, with a concomitant increase in tannin and intensity.

Moving to the wine, this had a bold nose, lots of rich cherry, strawberry and blackberry. There is a charred meat component along with smoke and earth. I thought this was extremely expressive and also very interesting. For a wine of this price, the aromatics are outstanding. The palate showed a lot of youth, and I would like to see this wine with more bottle age. That said, I got tons of fruit, but also huge tannins – earth, char, dust and oak round out this extremely complex wine. Personality? Check. Approachability and ageability? Yes. Affordable? Absolutely. One of the best basic Crianzas in Spain. This is exactly why Spain is such a formidable presence in the world of wine. If only more North Americans would embrace the wines and increase the selection available – it is but a fraction of what is being produced today.

Very Good+ to Excellent
$35 at BCLDB or Kitsilano Wine Cellars

Quinta do Crasto Tinta Roriz 2003

IMG_3753Quinta do Crasto is one of the largest dry wine producers in Portugal. Fortunately, they are also one of the best. Situated in the Douro valley, where grapes for the famous port wines are grown, Quinta do Crasto has a massive range of wines extending from $20 bottlings produced at 450 000 bottles to single vineyard and single varietal bottlings coming in at a mere few thousand bottles. These wines are also hard to find in a lot of the United States, but fortunately here in BC the agency Seacove has a good relationship with Crasto and brings in their entire line of wines. These are the sort of wines to cut your teeth with in the land of dry Portuguese reds as they straddle the line between a modern international style and a more terroir driven approach. I’ve also tasted through almost their entire line of wines and am impressed with the distinctive characteristics of each of the high end bottlings.

At this summer’s Wine Blogger’s Conference the Portuguese wine growers association (or something like that) put on a tasting of Portuguese wines. This was exciting to a lot of bloggers because many had not tasted wines from Portugal at all before. However, we are lucky in the BC market in that we have a few excellent options, Crasto being one of them. And, I think the offerings from Crasto (and Niepoort for that matter) far outclass anything that was being poured at the event down in Sonoma this summer. For all you U.S. readers, there is a big world of portuguese wine that has yet to flow into the states.

However, all that said, I think there may be a bit of over-hype and over-excitement about Portuguese dry wines right now. Yes they are well made and usually good value, but not that many of them are truly distinctive. Other than a small handful of 5-10 top producers, there isn’t that much exciting going on, at least for me. I remain to be persuaded otherwise though, and bottles like this one promise that the region has incredible potential.

Tinta Roriz is another name for Tempranillo. On the nose of this wine I got bacon fat, plum, chocolate, smoke, and crushed dark berries. The palate was reminiscent of Ribera del Duero wines from Spain with smoke, bacon, chocolate, plume, black cherry and a soft licorice lacing. This isn’t surprising given that the Douro Valley is an extension of the same river that flows through Ribera in Spain. I am consistently impressed with how smooth and integrated Quinta do Crasto’s wines are, and this is no exception. And, while I wouldn’t necessarily say that this wine is elegant, I would call it velvety and soft with a very extended mouthfeel. Very distinctly tempranillo, this also brings in the richness and savory qualities of a really good syrah. Definitely worth picking up if you enjoy bigger old world wines a la Ribera del Duero.

Excellent
$70 at BCLDB