Spanish white wines Part 2

 "I must have a drink at eleven, It's a duty that must be done; If I don't have a drink at eleven, then I must have eleven at one."  Anonymous

 

The history of wine grape cultivation in Spain goes back millennia, with records of some varieties known for 300 years. In the collection are native or indigenous grapes like the white Alcanon and international varieties such as Riesling. 

In the late 1960s, the taste for white wine in Spain was for wines that had lost their freshness months ago, if not years and become oxidized wines. The cause was due to the wines being left too long in old oak tanks, before bottling. 

It was an alien experience, similar to tasting a Chilean wine that had been aged in a local evergreen beech called rauli, or a California wine rested in redwood. In both cases these woods were what was available locally when the more desirable, and more fashionable, French oak was too expensive. 

In the latter part of the 20th century, the world wine market began to contract and a new phenomenon, called the "international style," began to emerge. Some saw this as an homogeneous expression of wine (i.e., there was little detectable difference between an inexpensive Chilean Chardonnay, a California Chardonnay and a Chardonnay from the South of France).

There has always been an objection to the "international style" at the higher end of the market, where styles move more slowly.  Recently, though, Spanish winemakers have been experimenting with skin contact for whites, like Macabeo, a technique that helps add more body and texture to the wine, while hopefully putting the "international" wines to rest.    

Wineries were faced with the decision to continue to satisfy the local market, or change the way they matured their wines.  Large wineries had the luxury and funds to keep some of the production in wood tanks for local sale and bottle a part, with no or little wood aging, mostly in small barrels, for export.

Of the hundreds of grapes that are grown in at least one of Spain's 17 autonomous regions, most are red.  But interest in Spanish white wine is growing. In the first of a two-part series on Spanish white grapes and associated wines, posted on Nov. 2,  the focus was on Palomino, Moscatel, Macabeo and Albarino. 

In this part: Xarel-lo, the foundation of Cava wines; Pedro-Ximenez, a classic grape in Spanish sweet wines; Parellada, another important part of Cava; and Verdejo, once a problematic grape that now promises greatness. 

                                         

Xarel-lo -- One of the gratifying things about following wine for so many years is to see grape varieties get a second chance.  Such is the case with Xarel-lo, a common grape in Catalonia that suffered for years from oxidation, but was rescued from certain obscurity by research advances in the vineyard and winery. 

It can be aggressive in flavor, even herbaceous and must be grown with care to keep these characteristics under control. It is this strength of character that, along with Macabeo and Parellada, form the blend for Cava sparkling wine.

                                                         

Parellada -- Grown throughout Spain but mainly in Catalonia where it is valued for its contribution to sparkling wine. Parellada is a cool-climate grape with good aromatics. 

Parellada contributes a soft, creamy base to the blend for Cava.  It is also occasionally made as a varietal still wine.

Sun drying PX grapes

         

Pedro Ximenez --  PX, as the grape and wine are commonly known, is grown in the southern Spain region of Andalucia and more specifically in the sub-regions of Montilla-Moriles and Jerez.

Growers in both areas sun-dry PX to concentrate the grape sugars into a very sweet sticky liquid that resembles treacle. Sherry and Malaga producers use PX from Montilla-Moriles in blends, as well as varietal wines in Jerez.

In Jerez, Sherry bodegas have cut back on PX plantings due to the grapes tendency to be disease prone. And PX is lower in acid and alcohol than Palomino Fino, the predominant grape of Sherry.   

Varietal PX has an opaque dark brown/black color, sweet molasses nose, sticky texture and a very sweet taste with hints of spice and molasses. PX and Malaga are highly valued by lovers of sweet wine as dessert or an after-dinner drink.

                                                             

Verdejo -- This is one of the most fashionable white grapes in Spain, especially from Rueda, a popular wine region along the Duero river in Castilla y Leon, just west of the famed red wine area of Ribera del Duero. 

In 1970, the noted Rioja vintner Marques de Riscal, recognized the potential of Verdejo in Rueda. The appeal was the grapes highly aromatic aromas and clean, crisp acidity. 

Verdejo is often blended with Macabeo and more recently Sauvignon Blanc, producing a wine with slightly herbal flavors that transform to nutty with bottle age. 

The take away for Spanish white wine grapes is versatility. Most of the eight grape featured in the two essays are considered important to growers and winemakers for their use in blends. However, more white grapes like Albarino and Verdejo are building popular reputations as varietals in their own right and most are still better values as wines with food than Chardonnay.                                                    

                                                           -o0o- 

 

Next Blog: "My Life in Wine" Episode 8 

Comments?  Suggestions?  Email me at boydvino707@gmail.com

Spanish white wines Part 1

"We washed it down with a dark Spanish wine George Elbert bought by the gallon from an Asturian who got it off the Havana car ferry."  John Dos Passos The Great Days

 

There is a lot to like about Spain, such as flamenco music and one of the world's great and varied cuisines. There's also a lot to like about Spanish wine, especially the way Spanish winemakers fashion Tempranillo into a wide variety of red wines.

Spanish white wines are not as well known or sought after as the reds, but as a group, the whites are as varied and appealing.

Red wine dominates Spanish wine culture. Spanish white wines have always been around, but were made mostly for local consumption.  White wines of Galicia, based mainly on the Albarino grape are a good example of a local wine that went public. Of specific interest is the sub zone of Rias Baixas, positioned between the Atlantic and the Mino (Minho in Portugal) river, that forms a boundary between Spain and Portugal. The local cuisine has developed based on seafood. 

Spain grows a large number of both white and red wine grapes, in 17 "autonomous communities," each containing a number of provinces, including the Canary and Mallorca islands. Many of the grapes are obscure or grown only in one or two provinces, so we'll stick to those eight grapes and their associated wines that are the best known or have the broadest application in Spanish wine making. 

In this essay we'll concentrate on Albarino, Macabeo, Moscatel and Palomino.  Then, in the Nov. 12 essay, the focus will be on Parellada, Pedro Ximenez, Verdejo and Xarel-lo.

                                                            

Albarino -- Galicia, in the cool, green northwest corner of Spain, is known for its white wine, fresh seafood and the cathedral city of Santiago de la Compostela, the last stop for religious pilgrims who started their long trek in France, along the Way of St. James. 

Personal Experience: A few years back, on a trip to Galicia, I took a moment to wander the narrow passageways near the cathedral in Compostela. As I strolled along, looking in shop windows, the sound of foreign music echoed off the walls, growing louder as it moved toward me.  Around the corner came a young man playing a bagpipe, or more accurately, a gaita, the Galician bagpipe, an instrument that can be traced back to pre-Christian Celts.  Although I confess that I am a member of a small minority that enjoys the sound of bagpipes, I never expected to hear one in Spain.

Back at the cathedral, there was a group of road-weary people gathered by a low side door. Once a year, on the Day of St. James the Greater, a side door is opened, allowing pilgrims to enter the cathedral. That in itself is not so unusual, but on the left side of the door frame there is a wet spot, that reputedly never dries. According to Catholic lore, the mysterious moisture is not connected to any source or pipe inside the church and is believed by the faithful to be holy water.  As the pilgrims passed through the low door, they touched the spot and blessed themselves, bringing to an end their long pilgrimage along the Camino de Santiago.  

Galicia benefits from the moderating Atlantic along its west coast as well as the Minho river in the south. Galicia is the home of some of Spain's most exciting and luscious white wines, mainly from the Albarino grape, grown mainly in Rias Baixas, or "low estuaries." 

There are five sub-zones in Rias Baixas, where the rule is that at least 70% must be Albarino.  Blending flexibility permits Treixadura and/or Loureira, in any combinations.  Of course, international demand means that many wineries go with 100% Albarino. 

So what does Albarino smell and taste like?  Peaches, apricots, with plenty of natural acidity and a trace of bitterness in the finish. My first taste of Albarino in Galicia reminded me of California Viognier, only lighter on the palate.

Godello is another Galician white grape showing a lot of promise. It displays  some of the same stone fruit flavors as Albarino, but with a bit more body.                                                   

    
                                         

Macabeo -- This widely-grown grape in northern Spain (not in Galicia) might accurately be considered an all-purpose white variety.  In Catalonia, Macabeo is blended with Xarel-lo and Parellada in Cava sparkling wines.  Navarra and Rioja winemakers rely on Viura, the local name for Macabeo, for their best white wine.

Macabeo is second in planted acreage only to the ubiquitous Airen. In Rioja there is considerable acreage of old-vine Macabeo, allowing winemakers the option of making a white with more aged character.  Indeed, Macabeo often needs time on the vine to counter the grape's tendency toward blandness. 

When ripe, Macabeo is spicy and slightly herbal, valuable characteristics in a blend, although the variety can be light in acidity. 

                                           

Moscatel -- In Spain, the name Moscatel applies to both a grape and a wine.  Moscatel is popular as a table grape, for its sweet simple flavors, which also apply to Mosatel wine. Most of the Moscatel grown in Spain is the Muscat of Alexandria. However, there is a small amount of Moscatel di Grano Menudo, a superior small-berry variety. The same grape name is used in both Spain and Portugal.

Despite being an easy variety to grow in Spain's warm climates, Moscatel, nevertheless, is an ideal variety for non-complicated sweet wines or as a sweet hand-to-mouth treat.

                                             

 Palomino -- This white grape, more accurately called Palomino Fino, is most often associated with Sherry and the southwestern region of Jerez.  Also, small quantities of Palomino are planted elsewhere in Galicia and Castilla y Leon and is known in the Canary Islands as Listan Blanco.

Although Palomino grows best in warm, dry soils (Jerez), it is losing favor in Spain because of being susceptible to diseases, plus interest in Sherry is unfortunately dropping off.

Palomino in California was known for years as Golden Chasselas, a staple in Central Valley vineyards, but DNA profiling showed that Palomino and Golden Chasselas are not related.  

The flavor profile of Palomino is simple, sweet and somewhat neutral, preferred characteristics for a fortified wine like Sherry, where varietal character is to be avoided.

Many of Spain's wine regions experience warm to hot temperatures, not the best conditions for many white wine grapes. Still, there is a growing list of white grape - Viura, Albarino, Godello -- that are proving to be the exceptions. 

                                                    -o0o-

 

Coming next: Spanish white wines Part 2

Got an idea for an essay topics?  Email me at boydvino707@gmail.com

 

 

My Life in Wine Episode 7

"I made wine out of raisins so I wouldn't have to wait for it to age."  Steven Wright, stand up comic

 

In Episode 6, My Copy Editor and I were still in France, having spent a few sleepless nights in Paris at a hot and noisy hotel.  The days were more pleasant, as we enjoyed a wine-infused alfresco lunch on the Champs d' Elysee with the owner of Chateau Greysac, followed the next day by an interesting and amusing visit to his chateau, in the northern Medoc, where we tasted wine from a barrel, removed in an unusual and damaging to the barrel, fashion. Then, it was south to Margaux.

One of  the benefits of wine travel is seeing scenic wine regions; unfortunately, the Medoc is not one of them.  The terrain is mostly flat and featureless, the monotony broken up by elegant wine estates with grand houses, set back off the road.  Heading south, we passed through St. Estephe, Pauillac, St. Julien and Margaux, for a visit with Alexis Lichine at Chateau Prieure-Lichine.    

When planning the European trip, I got word that Lichine was coming to Denver to speak to members of Les Amis du Vin, then a popular wine appreciation organization with national chapters of wine lovers. 

Lichine's visit was an opportunity for me to interview him for my wine column in the "Rocky Mountain News."  We met for the interview in his room at the downtown hotel where he was staying, early in the afternoon on the day he arrived.  After the interview, I mentioned my forthcoming trip to Bordeaux and Lichine graciously extended an invitation to visit the chateau.  It seemed like a casual offer, the kind that's given as a polite gesture.                       

                              

To my surprise, Lichine wrote back confirming our visit, adding that he was looking forward to seeing my Copy Editor and me.  Alexis Lichine was a man of many interests, including being married to actress Arlene Dahl.  Born in Russia, he spent time in America, an experience that helped define the way he did business in France. The insular Bordelaise didn't know what to make of Lichine's promotional business sense, especially when he erected a billboard ("Mon Dieu!) advertising visits to Prieure-Lichine.

We had a casual meal of steak grilled over grapevines, with a vintage or two of Prieure-Lichine, in the chateau kitchen. Steaks anywhere in Europe in the 1970s didn't hold a candle to an American steak, but food always tastes better when served (with local wine) in a special place.  

After lunch, our host  insisted we see the chateau, including a visit to his bedroom, which my Copy Editor and I thought was a bit unusual. 

Good wine and food encourage lively conversation, and we were enjoying our visit with Alexis Lichine, but it was time for us to get on the road. There was a long cross-country drive to the Burgundy region ahead of us and we had one more stop and tasting experience in Bordeaux.Unfortunately, we never met again, as Alexis Lichine died in 1989.

The Denver-based representative of Ch. d'Arche, a Second Growth Sauternes, invited us to meet her at an inn near the Bordeaux airport, for a taste of d'Arche.  I had little experience with Sauternes and found the complex wine's impeccable balance of sugar and acidity an impressive and eye-opening experience. 

                                    

But what really astounded me was the combination of savory foie gras with sweet Sauternes. Although I didn't know about umami then, it was probably that taste/texture that made the marriage of sweet and savory work. 

The following day, looking forward to changing wine gears from Cabernet Sauvignon to Pinot Noir, we headed east to the Burgundy region and the town of Beaune. 

I had underestimated how long it would take us to drive across France, on narrow two-lane roads through open farmland. The going was frustratingly slow, because just as you hit a straight stretch and got up to speed, there was another village, or small provincial town with more narrow streets and confusing intersections where the unwary could go off in any direction. 

Even more annoying, was never seeing a sign in a town, that the route you want continues down this street or that avenue. French route planners must assume that as you enter a town, somehow, without the benefit of a directional sign or two, you will, perhaps by divine provenience, emerge at the other side of town still on the same route. 

Eventually, though, we did arrive in Beaune and immediately found our way to the Hotel Le Cep, our lodging for the next few days.  Of course, there were no parking spaces anywhere near the entrance to the hotel.  By luck, I spotted one on a side street, wedged the car in, and schlepped the bags two long blocks to the hotel. Tired and road-weary, we were happy to know the hotel had our reservation. 

                    

The desk clerk was officious, even if a bit weary looking, and we were checked in with no delay. Then, as I turned to grab our bags, the desk clerk looked sternly at me and clucked loudly, "No, no, monsieur!"  Thinking I was about to take the wrong suitcases, I turned to the clerk with a questioning look, and saw her point behind me.

There stood a tiny old woman, dressed in black, with arms like twigs, about to grip our suitcase handles. I started to protest, but she was already heading to the staircase.  "This is not going to work," I whispered to my Copy Editor, but the "bell lady" was already up one flight of stairs and down the hallway, lights switching on mysteriously as she trundled along. It was tiring just watching her struggle with the heavy bags.

We thought the Hotel Le Cep was extravagantly expensive in 1979, but when I was last in Beaune, I checked out the hotel and was glad that I was staying elsewhere. No worries, though, we were anticipating our appointment at Maison Joseph Drouhin. 

Late morning, the following day, we arrived at the winery and were met by a young woman who showed us through a spacious area full of large oak fermentation tanks and then down a narrow spiral staircase to the barrel cellar. well-worn flagstone formed a smooth pathway between the barrel racks, allowing for the easy movement of hand trucks hauling oak barrels. "The Drouhin children also use these pathways for roller skating," explained our guide. "It's better for the roller skates than outside on the bumpy cobblestone street."

At the end of a long pathway was another spiral staircase. It turns out, during inclement weather, the pathways provided a convenient route for the Drouhins to move from the office building to their residence.  The Drouhins were waiting for us at a table set up for lunch in the garden. Joining us were two of the Drouhin children, including a young Veronique, who would go on to be winemaker at Domaine Drouhin Oregon. 

It would have been easy to spend the afternoon sipping Drouhin Beaune Clos de Mouches and enjoying some pleasant conversation, but business awaited the Drouhins and my Copy Editor and I had a long drive ahead of us the next day, to Spain.

In Episode 8, November 22, 2020, our travels take us to Barcelona, a side trip to Torres in Vilafranca del Penedes, then a long drive back into France and a stop to soak up the charm of Alsace before crossing the Rhine into Germany.

                                                     -o0o-

Next blog: Spanish white wines, Part One 

Comments?  Suggestions?  Contact me at boydvino707@gmail.com