The White Stuff (Rueda, Spain)

Not too long ago, there was a region to the south west of the Ribera del Duero that produced a wine very similar to that of Jerez. Just like their colleagues down south they grew palomino, a very fast ripening high yielding variety that they harvested early with plenty of acidity, and then made wine in the flor based solera system in the sun. That was until the Rioja winery Marques de Riscal came in search of a region to produce white wine, and found some very old indigenous verdejo vines. Seeing the potential for the wines here, they cultivated vines and began to produce crisp fresh white wines that captured the imagination and the palates of Spanish wine drinkers, particularly in warmer weather when full bodied reds can be a little unforgiving. Soon the region flourished as more producers began producing wine in the region, particularly important people like Telmo Rodriguez, and suddenly Spain had found its new white wine region. The second wave occurred towards the end of the 1990s as some vintners began fermenting and ageing verdejo wines in barrels, and a new style was created.

The soils and stones of Rueda

The Wild West (Toro, Spain)

Only 30 minutes away from Valladolid is the town of Toro, but the difference is so apparent you would almost guess it was 3 hours away. Driving around the villages in this area almost feels like driving through an old west town from the movies, as it feels the landscape and lifestyle feels very familiar. It actually reminds me of being back in the Salta region of Argentina, albeit on much smaller scale. Life is a bit simpler and tougher here, and it is not an uncommon site to find Toro bulls destined for the bullfighting ring grazing in paddocks by the road. In this area the valley opens up and is significantly flatter as the Duero River approaches Portugal to become the Duoro and flows out into the Atlantic Ocean. The landscape is significantly drier ad tougher for the cultivation of vines, which is part of the reason viticulture was almost entirely abandoned many years ago. Fortunately many vineyards weren’t removed and there are some seriously old vines growing close to the ground in very sandy and sometimes alluvial soils. The rediscovery of this region came during the boom of Spanish wine, when wines like the Ermita and Pingus were gaining attention for their immense power and structure, unlike any other wine made in Europe. All of a sudden the region exploded, and the number of wineries went from six in 1998, to over 50 today. The first winery I visited on my only day in Toro brought attention to the region, and the second confirmed its status as the next big thing. The third winery shows how good and affordable wine can be made even in such a harsh climate.

The biggest church in Toro

Even better than the real thing (Ribera del Duero, Spain – Day Three)

I’d like to take this opportunity to talk about the complexities of communication. A significant amount of the worlds problems can be traced back to a failure to communicate, through misunderstandings, misrepresentations or ignorance. In daily life it can be so difficult to get your message across and understand your opposite within your native language, let alone some else’s. It is my firm belief that the major thing holding wine back in the world is communication, rather than economic, political or social barriers. Wine is such a unique product that it is futile attempting to market it in my opinion, all you can do is communicate it. Some might argue that this is the same thing, but communication is only one element of marketing that is the most complicated in relation to wine. In my experience one of the hardest things to convey about wine is more than quality, it is personality, context and the overall mystery of wine. I have always endeavoured to improve the way I communicate about wine, dependant on the audience, and I will continue to do so in the future. When you consider that in todays global wine market there are hundreds of different language and cultural barriers, this further adds to the complexity involved. On my journey I have had several instances of misunderstanding and miscommunication, but my experience today was one of the most frustrating.

Barrels in the cellars of Vega Sicilia

Moving and shaking (Ribera del Duero, Spain - Day Three)

About 15 years ago Spain became the new frontier for wine in Europe, with a number of emerging regions being discovered by a small group of pioneers not necessarily from Spain. It was a great time to invest in the country, as land prices were still relatively low, the costs of labour and materials was lower, taxes were beneficial and there was growing interest for the wines around the world. Those early pioneers like Alvaro Palacios and Telmo Rodriguez got in at the best time, but had to work hard for very little initial reward. They are now reaping the benefits of their commitment and foresight, and those who followed rode on their coattails (particularly in terms of brand building), but at the same time paid higher prices in general. Unfortunately times are different in the year 2012 as it is well known. Spain amongst other countries is in deep recession, and things aren’t much better in many export markets. The recent controversy of Pancho Campo only served to highlight the growing reliance on media endorsement, and the exploitability of wine businesses eager to get an edge in an increasingly competitive global market. The pioneers aren’t too fazed, as they are well entrenched in their regions and wineries, and their wines are unlikely to fall out of favour, as long as there is rabid demand to pay full price for allocated wines. I was introduced to two projects of another pioneer and modern icon, the Danish-born Peter Sisseck.

Bunches in mid-flower in the vineyards of Quinta Sardonia