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: Tanajara 2006 Red

The Canary Islands D.O.´s are producing wines that likely no North American reader has ever seen. However, these islands have been producing wines for a very long time and have never experienced the phylloxera plague, thus having own rooted vines from indigenous varieties that have elsewhere died out. The modern wine making scene, however, is comprised mostly of newer Bodegas, with Tanajara being one of them. As these are a series of islands rather than a single one, there are several D.O.´s to correspond, including La Palma, Tenerife, Gran Canaria and El Hierro amongst others.

This wine, produced in the island of Hierro is, accordingly, of the El Hierro D.O. While the indigenous grape varieties grown on El Hierro are unheard of most of elsewhere – Listan Negro, Negramoll, Verijadiego, Bermejuelo – this red wine is particularly strange for being made from Verijadiego, which, according to my sources is usually cultivated for whites. I cannot clear up this confusion, except to guess that the white wines are made from the juice of grapes with thick and more tannic red skins.

The Island of El Hierro began producing wines in 1526, in the Sack style made famous by Jerez. These fortified sweet wines dominated trade back when Jerez was the high quality wine capital of the world in the 16th and 17th centuries. These days, however, more modern dry red and white styles are being produced, some of which, such as this wine, are not only of surprisingly high quality, but are also modern while being distinctive. Currently most of the wines produced are either purchased by tourists visiting the islands or by (strangely) El Hierro expats currently living in Venezuela (the largest export market)

The wine itself was extremely modern and fruity and reminded me of a high altitude zinfandel with less alcohol. Grown in volcanic soil (the Canary Islands are the outer ring of a large underwater volcano), this wine suggested plenty of cranberry and fresh tart red berry fruit, but there was also a superb structure to the wine held up by a relatively high level of acidity, which I would attribute to the cool coastal and high altitude climate of the island. This is also a wine made to pair with traditionally prepared Catalan leg of lamb, as the delicate flavours of the meat and sauce meld completely with the acidic lift and very bright fruit of the wine. While I suspect oak aging on this wine, it is non-intrusive and deftly handled. I was very impressed.

Excellent
€17 Retail, €22 at the restaurant Vinya Royel in Barcelona

Spotlight on Spain: Dominio DosTares Cumal 2005

In what will very likely be my last post before heading to Spain I’m going to be writing about a wine made from one of the most obscure grapes in Spain: Prieto Picudo. Jancis Robinson describes this variety as unusual and musky, and notes that it is grown in an area of about 5000 hectares surrounding the city of Leon, which is actually fairly close to Bierzo. She describes the wines as light in colour but fairly distinctive. Leon is, of course, in the region of Castile Y Leon, which was so named because of the huge number of castles built when the region was the frontier between the Christians and Moors.

This wine, from producer Dominio DosTares (sister winery to Dominio de Tares, whose Bembibre Mencia I reviewed a couple days ago), is nothing like what Jancis describes. First off, it is made from 90 year old vines grown in DosTares’ own vineyards in Pajares de los Oteros (810m above sea level), is grown in sand and loam, is handpicked and sorted, and is aged in new oak barrel for 15 months. This wine is also not musty at all, but rather is all about density: plum, blackberry, chocolate and an oak influenced aromatic structure. This is huge on the palate, almost in a New Worldy way, but it transcends any formula by having tremendously unique fruit to it. Sure there is cassis and black fruit, but there is a funky quality, almost reminiscent of Chile, but far more interesting, that pervades the wine. The tannins are pretty massive and this could do with some age, but paired with Lamb this really sang. Personally, I’m still more excited about Mencia, but this is worth a look for any wine geek out there. 14% abv.

So, this short note ends my domestic exploration of Spanish wine as I head off to Spain for the visceral in person experience. I hope to post a few updates while I’m there, and also plan some longer write-ups when I return, particularly of my planned two days visiting Bodegas in Jerez. Until then, Salud!

Excellent
$50 at Marquis Wine Cellars

Spotlight on Spain: Luna Beberide Godello 2007

Only a small percentage of Bierzo’s wine production is white, with Godello being the dominant white grape. Godello, also known as Verdello (not to be confused with Verdejo), is pretty unknown in the wine world, probably because it tends to be grown in fairly obscure regions such as Galicia, Bierzo, Umbria and Sicilia. Godello is known to have great aromatics, similar to Albarino, and also the capacity to be aged effectively sur lees and in oak.

Luna Beberide is a fairly large producer in Bierzo, and makes this particular wine from 60 year old vines that they discovered in the region. Made with 100% Godello, the grapes are grown in the typical clay and slate soil of Bierzo. This is fermented and aged in stainless steel, which is surprising given the richness of the wine, which made me think it at least sat in oak for a while (I was just informed that this saw 6 months sur lees, so that probably explains the richness).

The nose is pretty explosive with a ton of apple and dose of minerals that I would normally only associate with Loire whites. There is also a nutty quality to the nose and some hints of richer pear. I would not hesitate to call the palate “spiky” but also rich – it has a tartness and a fullness that compliment each other quite effectively. I found some pear, orange and other citrus on the palate – but this is mostly about apple and minerals. The wine wells up immediately in the mouth, which I think comes from the intense minerality, this also mellows out and fades seamlessly into food (I paired this with a swordfish steak topped with mango/avocado salsa, which was brilliant).

This is the most Loire-like wine I’ve had from Spain (with a nod to Leah from Marquis), and I think also the best value white I’ve tried from that country. This is a Spanish white for lovers of northern French whites. And, what is particularly impressive is that Beberide can maintain this quality and price across their 20,000 bottle production of this wine. It’s truly an outstanding bargain. 13% ABV.

Excellent and Highly Recommended Value
$30 at Kitsilano Wine Cellar

Spotlight on Spain: Dominio de Tares Bembibre 2004

The story of Bierzo rekindles an intriguing debate in the world of wine: what makes a previously unknown wine region famous? There are obviously a few threshold criteria: a basic level of quality, a certain critical recognition. However, these don’t seem sufficient to drive a region into the limelight. In the end, fame seems to be elusive, even when vast swathes of sommeliers highlight the charms and qualities of a particular place (as happened with Bierzo). Sometimes this is just not enough. The question remains: why did Bierzo fail to reach the heights it supposedly had the potential to reach.

I don’t have a researched answer, but my suspicion is that the region failed to brand itself sufficiently. Priorat, the latest hot region of Spain (as of a couple decades ago), gained its reputation because producers like Alvaro Palacios not only made great wines, but built a cult reputation for them. Now Palacios’ top wine, L’Hermita, sells for $900 in the province. Something pushed Priorat over the edge of recognition so that it could attain cult status. Bierzo, on the other hand, despite having excellent quality wines, could never get that far.

The Bierzo wines can be of outstanding quality, with a climate that sits between the cooler climate of Galicia and the hot robust climate of Ribera del Duero. The unique grape Mencia is the base of the most important red wines of the region, and it has a unique character in the region sitting somewhere between Pinot Noir and Syrah. The grape is grown on slate and granite soil, and I think these are wines with terroir and unique personality. Now, many cheap Mencia based wines can be pretty thin and uninteresting, but examples like this particular bottle produce wines of depth, intensity and character. You have to know what to look for in the land of Bierzo, which could perhaps be another reason it never hit the big time – perhaps it either needs more high quality wines at low prices, or simply move completely towards quality and eschew cheap and boring wines. Of course, Priorat’s Palacios also built a winery here in Bierzo with his nephew, and along with a number of new producers (such as Paixar and Dominio de Tares), is pushing Mencia as an outstanding high quality red grape. I wonder if this handful of producers is enough for the region, however. I think Bierzo needs to make a greater commitment to quality and branding in order to achieve that next level of recognition.

This wonderful Mencia based wine is one of their top offerings, and displays a surprising level of concentration and elegance. While there was a noticeable oak component on the nose with coffee and chocolate, there was also clean black berry fruit, pepper and underbrush. The palate was fantastic, with some gamey notes, pepper, and very bright acidity. The crushed blackberry fruit ran over a wonderful rocky component. Tasting the wine, I can understand why Mencia hasn’t caught on in the world of the average wine consumer. While it is absolutely lovely, it is also not typical, and perhaps even challenging to appreciate. In any case, this is a great red wine that has challenged and awoken my very jaded palate at a time when I’ve found so many red wines very very dull. And that, I say, is a reason to be excited.

Excellent
$50 at Marquis Wine Cellar

I’d also note that Jake over at Cherries and Clay wrote up another Mencia based wine from de Tares that sounded quite delicious – check it out.

Spotlight on Spain: Martivilli Verdejo White Wine 2006

Rueda is perhaps the most interesting wine region in all of Spain. Its story is certainly amongst the most compelling in the wine world. It begins as the Moors withdrew from Spain during the Reconquista, aggressively destroying everything they left behind. The devastation in the region between the Duero and Valladolid rivers was so severe that the lands remained uninhabited and unplanted for 100 years. During that time, the lands lay fallow and began to regenerate. One of the products of this regeneration was an obscure wild vine now known as Verdejo.

In the 11th century, the king of Castile-Leon provided incentives to entice farmers to return to Rueda. The incentives were successful and many farmers tried their hand at making wine from the local wild grape vines. However, during this period Sherry was considered to be one of the greatest wines in the world, and since Jerez was still under control of the Moors at the time, wine makers in Rueda decided to mimic the style by producing oxidized wines. What’s particularly weird about this is that Verdejo oxidizes pretty much naturally. It is so sensitive that it starts severely oxidizing as soon as it is picked. The inherent quality of the grape made it easy to create a style of wine that mimicked sherry and eventually became extremely popular in its own right.

Everything came crashing down in the 19th century when phylloxera entered the region and devastated the vines. The destruction of Verdejo meant that these wines lost their inroads to Sherry, which saw a resurgence that lasted for about 100 years. The strange agricultural policies of Franco led to consistent prices being paid for tons of grapes no matter what kind of quality. This led to massive plantings of the easy to grow Palomino, which did not make wines of any distinction.

This stagnation remained in place until Rioja producer Marques de Riscal entered the region in the 1970s. Riscal is intriguing because then director Francisco Dolagaray was not a fan of the traditional oaky style of white wines being made in Rioja, so much so that Riscal did not produce any white wines. To remedy this he decided to search around Spain to find the best possible place to make white wine. After looking at Penedes and Rias Baixas, he settled on Rueda and its indigenous grape Verdejo.

Now, the most significant change by the 1970s was the advent of sophisticated modern technologies that allowed for the harvesting of Verdejo with inert gases that prevented oxidation. This same technique is used today and it is very extreme. The pickers pick wine at night and put the grapes into small plastic boxes on trucks where inert gas is blown across them to displace any oxygen present. The harvest is then transported to the winery where grapes are fermented in a sealed tank which is filled with inert gas. The entire process all the way up to bottling sees the grapes and, eventually, the juice and wine, completely protected from oxygen until bottling.

This crazy modern process completely changed the character of Verdejo. No longer were oxidized wines necessary. Instead, Verdejo exposed its character as a crisp, herbal and very aromatic white, and one that many now believe is perhaps the best in Spain.

These days, Sauvignon Blanc is also planted in the region, but it is the indigenous Verdejo and its crazy history that is sure to capture the imagination of wine lovers around the world. It helps that these wines compete with the Albarinos of Rias Baixas and the Chardonnays of Penedes for the title of Spain’s greatest white.

Founded in 1988, Martivilli is making modern styled whites in Rueda. This particular 100% Verdejo based white wine is actually fermented in barrel rather than in steel, and the oak character adds an intriguing level of richness to the normally crisp and bright Verdejo.

The nose is very expressive and lovely with apple, bright clean mineral and an almost mossy component. The oak notes are there but restrained. When I tasted this wine I loved the combination of fresh cut mountain herbs, clean and crisp citrusy mineral and the wine’s overall cleanliness and delineation. This is extremely balanced with medium+ acidity and the underlying, almost hidden, richness really starts to strut it stuff with food (try duck terrine, triple crème cheese, or Moroccan/Spanish stewed chicken).

The wine is not only fantastic, but the story and history of Rueda has to be one of the most compelling I’ve encountered in my years as a wine geek. I truly feel like I’m drinking one of the strange fortuitous accidents of history when I sip a Verdejo based wine from Rueda. Awesome. 13% ABV.

Very Good+ and Highly Recommended Value
$30 at Marquis Wine Cellars

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: Torres Grans Muralles 2001

Torres is one of the most important wine makers in Spain, having introduced many modern varieties to Penedes and having brought international grapes and an international style to South America (Torres has a notable winery in Chile) when World War II shut off access to European markets. Torres was also, amazingly, a pioneer in bottling his own wines, which helped him to take control of his own branding, which accordingly resulted in some serious market penetration in the North and South American markets.

Torres’ range of wines is truly eclectic and comprehensive, ranging from good value blends of indigenous grapes, to single varietal bottlings of Cabernet Sauvignon, Chardonnay, and high end single vineyard field blends of indigenous grapes.

Catalonia as a region has seen some serious change starting from the 1950s, prior to which it originally made oxidized wines known as rancios and vinos de licor. Now, with Torres being a prime influence, Catalonia is making a huge range of wines, from ‘traditional’ to modern, using indigenous and international grapes and from large volume to small artisanal producers. Catalonia is truly a mash up of Spain’s schizophrenia.

This bottling is made with grapes grown in Conca de Barbera, a region just west of Penedes (where Torres is headquartered). Conca de Barbera is known mostly for producing high quality grapes for Cava producers. Soils here are chalky, alluvial ones over limestone bedrock. The region is sheltered by surrounding mountain ranges and produces wines mostly in a modern style, many from international grapes such as Chardonnay and Cabernet Sauvignon.

This wine, however, is not made with international grapes nor is it made in a cheap quaffing style like Cava. This is another beast. A blend of Monastrell, Garnacha Tinta, Garro, Samso, and Carinena, the Grans Muralles is an extremely unique sort of wine made from a single vineyard of the same name. The vineyard is 94 hectares, and 32 of these are dedicated to producing this wine. While the soils in this vineyard are slate and gravel, perhaps the most interesting part of the wine here are the indigenous grapes: Garro being a traditional Catalan grape that nearly disappeared, and the strange Samso, which according to Torres has an “intense pigment, good body and a magnificent structure.” Of course, the other three grapes are also indigenous to Spain, although have since spread internationally.

Putting glass to nose exposes bread, cherry, blackberry and deep scented violets. This is really pleasant and intriguing to smell. The palate was fantastic, with a quite soft and silky structure, lots of earth, underbrush and herbs, and a nice cherry and blackberry fruit presence. The wine is also very floral, and it is this wonderful aromatic component that is so enticing. I might describe this as a cross between a modern Rioja, a classic Bordeaux, and a bracing Southern Rhone/Languedoc wine – really an intriguing and lovely combination. I think wines like this are the exact sort of wines that make Spain exciting and that are a model of how a large producer can and should be a champion of the history and tradition of their region, not only keeping the indigenous grapes alive, but showing their full potential.

Excellent
$90 at BCLDB

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: Abel Mendoza Rioja Malvasia 2007

Thus far I have looked at the red wines of Rioja, but the whites are perhaps some of the most interesting and unknown wines of Spain outside of the circles of wine professionals and wine geeks. This could be explainable by the fact that traditional white Rioja is aged for a considerable time before release, with considerable oak treatment and therefore also oxidative effects. The impact of so much oxidation on white wine can be a turn off (or at least particularly unusual) to many wine drinkers, making these wines some of the more challenging whites in the world of white wine.

The best white Riojas, however, have a searing acidity that provides them with a near immortality when it comes to ageability. Most white wines could never handle as much age as the insanely complex and acid driven whites of a producer like Lopez de Heredia. Traditional white Riojas are made predominantly from the grape called Viura (aka Macabeo), which is northern Spain’s most planted white grape. Interestingly, this is apparently also planted in the Roussilon region in southern France, although I have never had a chance to taste the French versions.

Now, according to Jancis Robinson, Viura is actually a low-acid grape, which makes me wonder how Lopez de Heredia has such searing acidity in their whites. However, Viura is also exceptionally good at withstanding oxidation, so perhaps this ability preserves the acid over time. This is an intriguing question that hopefully someone has the answer to.

However, Viura is also almost always accompanied in Riojan whites by Malvasia, often added to blends in quantities of 5-10%. The encroachment of phylloxera into Spain actually ended up in a huge decline of Malvasia plantings, explaining the now dominant use of Viura. This makes today’s wine particularly unusual, since it is not only made in a modern rather than traditional style, but it is made with 100% Malvasia.

Unlike the Lopez de Heredia whites (see my review of the 1989 Tondonia Reserva), Abel Mendoza’s Malvasia is clean and modern, without a hint of oxidation. Mendoza is quite a modern producer from Rioja, having established in 1987, and they tend to make wines of their own style and direction.

However, despite the modern approach, the nose retains some of the unusual qualities I associate with white Rioja, such as nuts, nail polish and some ripe apple and cardamom. That it does so without the oxidation and with plenty of freshness makes this a particularly successful wine for a completely different set of foods. Start your meal with some Serrano and old white Rioja and then move on to a bevy of fresh seafood in some sort of cream sauce with this very modern Malvasia.

The use of American oak was in no doubt with the flavours of vanilla, cream and cardamom on the palate. The fresh apple and citrus notes provided a clean sharp line through the centre of the wine and into its finish. I loved the texture and richness here because it was also coupled with structure and balance: fresh, but big, clean but classic. On oaky and fresh white wine, together at last.

And, as with all the best wines, this has a distinct personality – you won’t get a wine like this from anywhere else. 13% ABV.

Excellent
$35 at Marquis

NB: this wine was also poured at Marquis Wine’s blogger tasting – although I had my bottle at home with a meal.