23/06/2012
Noble wine and terroir in Spain - not always eye to eye
Víctor de la Serna
When, 40 years ago, the International Wine Academy set out to define natural wines - which it did rather better than those who nowadays basically restrict the definition to that of low-sulfur wines - it immediately went on to 'noble wines'. These were natural, traditional wines coming from high-quality terroirs that gave them an added dimension of elegance, complexity and, perhaps most importantly, ageability.
The eyes then turned to Spain, a country which at the time did not much publicize its terroirs and did not regulate or classify top crus, and where most of the better-known wineries were organized like the Champagne houses, with large productions of 'house style' wines, largely dependent on bought-in grapes, which obliterated or at least diffused the terroir character.
Did Spain really have outstanding terroirs? How come it didn't put them forward ahead of brands? What was the story?
Well, of course there were and are great terroirs in Spain. There may even be an overabundance of them, at least potentially, as it enjoys the largest surface of limestone-based vineyards in the world, with frequently high altitudes that help compensate for the latitude, and a good amount of well-balanced old vines despite large-scale and often unfortunate uprooting schemes which have taken place since the 1970s. The amazing longevity of the greatest Rioja wines is only more proof that they come from outstanding terroirs.
All we need now is to know these terroirs better and to source many more wines from specific places instead of blending them away. And also to develop the human component of terroir - viticultural practices are as important as soil and climate to form a great cru over time.
There is one important, general factor to consider first: the only two Spanish regions with a centuries-old tradition for fine wine are Jerez and Rioja (well, some 150 years in this second case). In almost every other region, great terroirs remain to be fully identified and ratified by their results over the years, because serious commercial winemaking there doesn't have the track record that is generally demanded of a grand cru.
One qualified exception would be the Vega Sicilia estate in Ribera del Duero, where wine has been made for some 150 years. But, as we'll see – it's indeed a qualified exception.
Viticulture and winemaking have been present in southern Spain for a longer time than in most of Western Europe. Strabo, the Greek geographer, placed the arrival of grapevines in Xera - the current Jerez de la Frontera - at around 1100 b.C. They were brought in, as was the art of winemaking, by the Phoenicians.
Two winemaking lagares were found in the Phoenician archaeological site at the Doña Blanca castle, 4 kilometers from Jerez. Recovered Phoenician artifacts also indicate that the Macharnudo hill, one of Jerez's most prized pagos or crus, was already covered with vineyards 30 centuries ago, a little earlier than the Clos de Vougeot or the Bernkasteler Doctor.
Even more significant, though, is the fact that the best-known Roman agronomist, Lucius Junius Moderatus Columella, was born in Cádiz and was a winegrower in Jerez. He devoted ample space to viticulture in two of his 12 books, and in them he showed his awareness of the importance of soils in the Jerez region as he was the first to assert the superiority of the white limestone soils, albariza in Spanish (and cretosi in Latin), for the production of high-quality wine. He also identified as of lesser quality the arenas, the sandy soils near the sea (sabulosi) and the rich barros (muds) or clay soils on valley bottoms (palustres).
Twenty centuries after Columella, that classification still stands, and it's been repeatedly described throughout history by the Spanish-Arab authors, by Renaissance author Alonso de Herrera, and by the two founding fathers of modern viticulture and ampelography in Spain, Simón de Rojas Clemente and Esteban Boutelou.
In addition, the relevance of climate, microclimate and orientation was also understood early on. The fine Balbaína vineyard (first walled, like a Burgundian clos, in 1431), which lies partly in El Puerto de Santa María, close to the sea, benefits from a milder climate and is reputed for the delicacy of the fino sherries produced with grapes sourced there, while Macharnudo, further inland, in a warmer and drier area, was better known for the stronger wines made from its grapes, such as amontillados and olorosos. But the altitude of the upper part of the hill - the highest vineyards in all of Jerez, known as Macharnudo Alto - made it a little cooler, and the ensuing combination of power and finesse turned it a true grand cru and the source for the greatest dry sherries.
In Sanlúcar de Barrameda, where cask rooms in bodegas are largely opened to the humid, salty Atlantic winds, it may be said that terroir elements are added during the ageing period as the winds interact with the flor veil protecting the wines.
Grape varieties play a lesser role than terroir too: there was a great variety of them before phylloxera struck, but practically only palomino fino, which already was dominant earlier, remained after replanting. This cultivar's neutral aromatics, which fully let the terroir and the aging process express themselves, were one of the reasons it was preferred.
This rich, centuries-old experience in identifying and cultivating top terroirs in Spain's most classic wine region has been severely diminished over the past 40 years as a consequence of two not unrelated developments: the prolonged crisis in sherry consumption, which has led to the closing of several bodegas and widespread vine uprooting, and the widespread advance of modern, technological and less expensive winemaking, with large steel fermenting vats full of bought-in grapes from a mix of terroirs, and such supplements as selected yeasts. Many modern winemakers in Jerez have pooh-poohed the relevance of the terroir effect.
Despite that degree of homogenizing technology, high-quality grapes from albariza soils remain the rule, and so some terroir character remains. But more firms should follow the lead of Valdespino, the only one currently sourcing all of its grapes for dry sherries under flor (finos and amontillados) from its own vineyards in one pago, the Macharnudo Alto. In addition, it ferments them in oak casks and shuns selected yeasts. Valdespino remains as the standard-bearer of the best traditions in sherry, including the largely forgotten one of single-vineyard wines.
A similar role has been played for decades in Spain's other classical zone, Rioja, by the family estate of López de Heredia. They do source all of their wines from their own portfolio of four vineyards, planted in 1912-13, after the phylloxera scourge had been solved in Rioja, by Rafael López de Heredia, the founder. The sites were well-chosen, including that of the softly rolling, large (100 hectares) Viña Tondonia, placed within a meander of the Ebro river with a deep graves-like subsoil of calcareous rolling stones.
The vineyards have been regularly replanted and the vines now average about 40 years of age, but a century is time enough for a terroir to be well established, with its features and potential amply documented. The traditional, respectful viticultural practices enforced by the family during all that time have completed the picture with the always important human angle.
The scene elsewhere in Rioja is extremely varied, from large, veteran bodegas industriales ('industrial wineries', a tell-tale expression coined in the region 150 years ago) making millions of bottles without owning a single vine to new, tiny estates, tilled organically or biodynamically by younger, artisanal vignerons aiming for terroir-rich wines. In between, all sorts of companies and estates coexist.
The names Viña this or Viña that which are often found on Rioja labels most often are plain brand names now, with just a reference to some vineyard that was prestigious long ago. The appellation has long avoided anything resembling a classification of vineyards or even of sub-appellations: yes, Rioja Alta, Rioja Alavesa and Rioja Baja do exist, but only in terms of a winery's location. Each winery can freely source its grapes from anywhere in the huge, 63,000-hectare appellation – be they from rich soils in San Asensio, more apt for beetroot than for vines, or from an old, rocky grenache vineyard on the heights above Alfaro, 120 kilometers away. The label will always say, simply, 'Rioja'.
There has indeed been a conscious attempt by the administration and by many of the bodegas to minimize or hide the location and exact quality of vineyards in Rioja, a move later mimicked by Rioja's best known current competitor, Ribera del Duero. The overwhelming concern was to facilitate grape supplies and keep prices fairly even. Of course, this diminished the interest by wineries to own top-rated vineyards outright.
Most of the leading producers, old and new, in the region do own sizeable portfolios of quality vineyards, and some of them rely solely or mainly on their own production, as López de Heredia does. Even those which buy large amounts of grapes often have many longstanding buying contracts – sometimes spanning several generations – with small growers who own excellent vineyards.
Therefore, the quality of terroirs behind top-quality Rioja wines cannot be doubted. What is much more difficult to ascertain is the exact provenance, year after year, of the grapes in each wine. Many of them are sourced, like Penfolds Grange, from varying sources in the region depending on the vintage. And terroir is no longer a discernible component of their bouquet and taste.
In Priorat, a comparably small, up-and-coming region, it has been much easier to classify and identify terroirs. Recently, a drive led by winemaker Álvaro Palacios to create Spain's first Burgundy-styled 'village' appellations succeeded, and the new vins de la vila are identified by the name of the village where all of the grapes in this wine were grown, appended to the Priorat appellation: Vi de la Vila Gratallops, Vi de la Vila Torroja, for instance.
When another terroir-conscious winemaker, Telmo Rodríguez, returned in 2010 to head the family estate Remelluri, in northwestern Rioja, he decided to bottle under that name exclusively the grapes grown in it, and to create two new cuvées for the grapes traditionally bought by the estate from growers in the two adjoining villages, Labastida and San Vicente de la Sonsierra. He was thus replicating his own previous venture at Lanzaga, where all of the grapes are sourced from vineyards in Lanciego, a small village where the small winery is located.
The new cuvées are strikingly different, Rodríguez says - Labastida wine is rounder, more delicate, and San Vicente more sauvage and powerful - rather like comparing Chambolle-Musigny with Morey-Saint-Denis. But Rodríguez had a hard time trying to convince the Rioja appellation to enshrine the 'village' concept as Priorat had. In the end, the Regulatory Council allowed him to mention the names of the villages on the wine labels, but refused to consider making the concept official.
So it goes throughout Spain. You have to believe the producers, since there is no official corroboration, when they identify a vineyard as the source for a single wine, as some of the respected new producers in Rioja do - Artadi is a good example, with such great vineyards as El Pisón.
Vega Sicilia, the fabled Duero estate, traditionally bought grapes from old vineyards throughout the region until quite recently, so that in reality they were not, to a large extent, terroir-based wines. Now it does rely fully on its own vineyards on the river bank and on the slopes leading to the high plateau above the valley, so that finally we are getting a taste of a true château wine.
The new vinos de pago appellations for single estates, which have been adopted in three of the country's regions (Castile-La Mancha, Valencia and Navarre) give more of a guarantee of origin, but certainly not of quality, since these are mostly recently planted estates, with very little of a track record to rely on. And indeed the quality of these pagos is quite uneven.
So for now many of Spain's old, fine vineyards will remain anonymous, their names unrecognized and their wines sunk into blends. But at least, with the younger generations led by people like Álvaro Palacios or Telmo Rodríguez, a few dozen growers have set out to make terroir wines with all that this entails. Their names are seldom well known yet, in Spain or abroad. But they will be increasingly heard from, even if the regulators are not on their side.
