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The Wines of Spain
By Julian Jeffs Mitchell Beazley Copyright © 2006
Julian Jeffs
All right reserved. ISBN: 9781845331009
Chapter One
The Spanish wine scene
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It has been positively exciting to taste Spanish wines over the last forty years. They have been transformed, and the rate of transformation has been accelerating steadily all the time. Now that so many vineyards have reached their potential it is slowing down, but fine new wines are still emerging. This achievement should be set in its context. The Civil War had left the country bankrupt and with large areas in ruins. This was followed by the Second World War, with most export markets cut off and, for Spain, no hope of recovery. In those days most of the wine was made in conditions that nowadays look primitive, fermenting the must in huge earthenware (or later concrete) tinajas that made bodegas look like stage sets for a production of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, though good wines were made that way, and still sometimes are. By 1960 the only Spanish wine well known outside Spain and acknowledged to be world class was sherry. Vega Sicilia had become legendary but it was very expensive and hard to find, like the Burgundies of Romanée-Conti. Within Spain the great table wines were those of the Rioja, but in the UK they only appeared in their humblest form at the lowest end ofthe market, mislabelled Spanish Chablis and Spanish Burgundy, while most of the wines so labelled did not come from Rioja at all but were simply table wines of doubtful origin. There was also Spanish Sauternes, which was very sweet and rather nasty. Within Spain you could buy fine Riojas, and if you could not afford them you bought a Valdepeñas. There were some other good wines but, for the most part, these could only be bought locally. And there were some good sparkling wines, now called Cava but in those days mislabelled Champaña.
How things have changed! The first fine wines to break into the UK and US markets were the best Riojas. If you went to the right wine merchant in the 1960s you could also find an occasional Valdepeñas or even an Alella, but not much else. The best wines were expected to come from France or Germany. Most of the wines that you can get excited about today simply did not exist or were made only in very small quantities for local sale, just finding their way on to the wine lists of the best restaurants in Madrid and Barcelona. A number of things led to the revolution — for revolution it was. Perhaps the most important was Spain's increasing prosperity, which brought with it an important national market for fine wines and people with money for investment to make them. Another was an increasingly international outlook, so that enologists got their training in such places as Bordeaux and Davis, California. Their values became absolute rather than local and insular. And at the same time they could be provided with the modern tools of their trade, notably cool fermentation in hygienic stainless-steel vessels. These enabled delicate wines of great finesse to be made in hot places. Previously the fermentations had been tumultuous and uncontrolled, so that many elements of flavour and aroma were driven off and lost for ever.
Another, and very important, aspect was a new willingness to experiment with vine varieties and to match them to the soils and microclimates in which they were grown. The acknowledged pioneer in this area was Miguel Torres, who virtually created Penedés as a fine wine area. He brought in foreign vines such as Cabernet Sauvignon, Pinot Noir and Gewürztraminer and found out where to grow them. The introduction of international varieties led to controversy and the debate still goes on hotly. Some international varieties were originally Spanish: the Garnacha, for instance, called the Grenache in France, and the Cariñena, which the French call Carignan. Spain has other grapes of its own which are amongst the best in the world: Tempranillo, for instance. Some Spanish grape varieties practically disappeared, and while a number of these will not be missed, there might well be others that could contribute something special. Some enlightened growers, like Miguel Torres, are cultivating them and trying them out. But the real argument is whether Spain should concentrate on producing wines from native varieties, wines that are uniquely Spanish, or from international varieties that produce yet another Cabernet Sauvignon or Chardonnay. The danger lies in saying 'yet another'. The style of wine that a grape produces depends on four things: the clone, the soil, the microclimate, and the way the wine is made. And quite apart from that, vines are remarkably adaptable plants and develop characteristics of their own, depending on where they are grown. No vine demonstrates this more than the Tempranillo. So just as the Garnacha has produced great wines when transplanted to Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Cabernet Sauvignon has produced great wines in, for instance, Penedés and in Navarra. And an admixture of Cabernet Sauvignon can add backbone and finesse to a Tempranillo in Spain just as it can to a Syrah in Australia. Great wines can never be look-alikes; their greatness lies in their individuality. They come usually from years of devotion and experiment. To adopt either a too nationalistic approach or a too international one can cut off one's nose to spite one's face and prevent the emergence of something special. Spanish wine growers have generally avoided the pitfalls and have produced some very fine wines, adopting the approach best suited to where they are. Growers in areas untrammelled by tradition — Penedés, Somontano or Navarra, for instance — have had most freedom in making good use of international varieties, though they have not neglected the native ones.
Another thing that has had a profound effect on the wines is the way in which they are aged. The traditional way in Spain was to use large oak casks. Sometimes the wine spent years in them. Some were infected and imparted taints. Some made the wines taste very woody. Some had been in use so long that they had become practically impermeable to air and the wine might just as well have been in tanks. The ways in which wines mature became the subject of intense study, and experiments are still going on in all the major vineyards.
There are two ways of ageing table wines. The first is by oxidation, where the wine is in cask and oxygen permeates through the wood and between the staves. The second is by reduction, where the wine is in bottles or airtight tanks. Ageing in oak is quicker than reduction and is also extremely complex. The wine is oxidized and also takes in tannins, vanillin and other flavouring elements from the wood. Just how quickly it is oxidized and what these elements are depend on the wood that is used, how big the casks are, and how they have been made. The larger the cask, the smaller the area of contact between the oak and a given volume of wine. Some wine makers use American oak, some French, and some a combination of the two. There is also some Spanish oak, but this is in such short supply as to be insignificant. In the past there was also oak from Slovenia, which was considered good, but although this has largely disappeared it may come back; there are still a few large old casks of Slovenian oak left.
American oak, Quercus alba, is the most popular in Spain and has been for years. It imparts more of an oaky flavour than French, particularly vanillin. Those who favour it say that it is best suited to the native vines. Others use it for an initial part of the ageing and then go over to French, or use French for ageing a part of their wines and blend them together. In American cooperage the staves are sawn while in Europe they are split into shape (if European oak is sawn the staves tend to leak), and this also makes a difference. Amongst the many experiments going on are some making casks from American oak but by European methods.
There are two principal kinds of French oak: Limousin and Allier. Sometimes one finds Nevers or Tronçais referred to but these, like Allier, come from the centre of France and are virtually indistinguishable. French oak is of a different kind from American, or rather of two different kinds, Quercus sessiliflora and Quercus robur, but in practice no distinction is drawn between them. French oak, of whatever kind, is less aggressive, which may or may not be a good thing: it depends on the wine and what you are looking for.
Other factors influence the effect of casks, regardless of the oak they are made from. The first is the way the oak is seasoned. This can be hastened artificially or left to time and nature. The latter is considered best, and to make sure, some bodegas buy in wood and season it themselves before having it coopered. The second is the degree of 'toast'. In making a cask the staves are bent by placing a partly assembled cask over a fire, which burns in the middle; water is then thrown on, making it possible to bend the staves into shape. The fire chars the wood, to give casks of high, medium or low toast. The higher the toast, the less the penetration of the wine, which therefore tastes less woody and tannic, but the char also imports flavours of its own.
Then there is the question of the size of the cask. In the past the practice was to use enormous casks which provided a low surface-to-volume ratio. Nowadays DO regulations stipulate that casks have to be of less than 1,000 litres, though following French practice most bodegas now use barricas of 225 litres. Finally (at any rate for the purposes of this brief description) there is the age of the cask. New casks impart the most flavour. Indeed, if the wine is very delicate (for instance in a light vintage) it may be unwise to use new casks at all. But generally the tannins and vanilla overtones that they bring are desirable and they are used, at least in part, for maturation of new wines, and some are actually fermented in new casks. After four or five years, though, the flavouring matters have been absorbed and what is left is simply slow oxidation. Casks can be revived to some extent if they are taken apart and shaved, but this is not often done. Older casks are desirable for some wines and particularly for the later stages of maturation. Too long in a new cask can be altogether too much of a good thing and is a mistake that the new wave of wine makers is learning to avoid, after some unfortunate experiences.
Wines are classified according to the amount of cask ageing they are given. They are as follows:
Vino joven. These wines are also called vino del año, sin crianza, or (rarely but officially) con simple garantía de origen, but the authorities are encouraging the term joven. They are made for drinking immediately and have not spent any time in cask, or less than the time needed to qualify them as crianzas.
Vino de crianza. Crianza is usually translated as 'breeding', but in this context a better translation might be 'upbringing' or 'education'. Red wines must be aged for at least two full years after the vintage, of which a period, usually at least six months but sometimes a year, as in Rioja, must be in oak. White and rosado wines must spend at least a year in the bodega, of which at least six months must be in oak.
Reserva. Red wines must have at least three years' ageing, of which at least one must be in oak. Whites and rosados must be aged for at least two years, of which at least six months must be in oak.
Gran reserva. These are only allowed to be made in good vintages. Reds must be aged for at least five years, of which at least two must be in oak. Whites and rosados are rare and must be aged for at least four years, of which at least six months must be in oak.
The above ageing periods must all be in the bodega; time spent at a merchant's does not count, though it can, of course, make a profound difference to the maturity of the wine. The normal ageing rules are assumed in the chapters below unless otherwise stated.
Nothing is more important than the geographical origin of a wine. The exemplar is the French system of appellation d'origine contrôlée (AOC) and vin délimité de qualité supérieure (VDQS). Official delimitation is also long established in Spain — for instance the Consejo Regulador for sherry was established in 1933 — and is continuing apace. New areas are being defined continually. The authority responsible is INDO: Instituto Nacional de Denominaciones de Origen. Its responsibilities are not confined to wine, but wine is the major one. As Spain is part of the EU, it conforms to European rules, but so far as geographical limitations are concerned, these are not at all precise. There are only two categories: table wines and quality wines. The latter are classified as QWPSR — Quality Wines Produced in Specific Regions — or, in Spanish, VCPRD — Vinos de Calidad Producidos en Regiones Determinadas. Each country is left to formulate its own laws within the rules. For instance in France QWPSR includes both AOC and VDQS. In Spain there are three subdivisions for table wines — Vino de Mesa (VdM), Vino Comarcal (VC or CV) and Vino de la Tierra (VdlT) — and two subdivisions for quality wines — Denominación de Origen (DO) and Denominación de Origen Calificada (DOC or DOCa).
Vino de Mesa simply means table wine. These are wines grown in unclassified vineyards or wines blended from two or more different regions, which automatically become table wines under EU law and which may not carry a vintage date or a geographical identification. Vino Comarcal means local wine. They have the additional name of their area and may carry a vintage date. They are mostly simple country wines that are unlikely to progress further up the scale, but include some very distinguished wines from growers who prefer to go their own way outside the system, such as those grown by the Marqués de Griñón in his vineyards at Malpica, which he labels Vino de Mesa de Toledo, and Yllera, matured and bottled in Rueda but outside the DO, which is labelled Vino de Mesa de Castilla-Léon. These wines are described in the relevant geographical chapters.
Vino de la Tierra comes from defined geographical areas which produce wines having local identities that may or may not progress to DO status. In the transition period those that are going up the scale can be classified as Denominación Específica (provisional) — DE or DEp — until they have established a sufficient standing. This happened, for instance, to the wines of Rías Baixas, which for a time were DE Albariño. Nowadays, though, such an area is more likely to be given the status of Denominación de Origen Provisional (DOp). This happens when one or two bodegas have reached the required standard but others have not. The most recent transition was in 1997 when the DOp Badajoz, in Extremadura, incorporating the VdlTs Tierra de Barros, Cañamero, Matanegra, Montánchez, Ribera Alta de Guadiana and Ribera Baja de Guadiana, were combined together to form the new DO Ribera del Guadiana.
All but one of the Spanish quality wines have the status of Denominación de Origen (DO). Each of these is carefully mapped out, though it is not always easy to get a copy of the map, sometimes owing to disputes around the edges. And each is governed by its own Consejo Regulador, which is government controlled but run locally by a board which includes representatives of wine growers and bodegas. Each has its own strict set of rules, which are summarized in the chapters that follow. The one exception is Rioja, which in 1991 was promoted to Denominación de Origen Calificada (DOC or DOCa), a new category created in 1988 to correspond to the Italian DOCG. If that category does not mean much in Italy, at present it seems to mean even less in Spain. It is based on quality, reputation and the cost of the grapes. No one could deny that Rioja qualifies on all counts, and further regulations are under discussion which may give real meaning to the DOC, but at the moment it means no more than the DO. There have been various suggestions — such as a further classification of areas within the DOC, like in Bordeaux or Burgundy — but solar these have come to nothing. And one can only wonder, if Rioja is a special case, why not Jerez, Ribera del Duero, Priorato, Rías Baixas and ... But where is one to draw the line? That is the trouble, so perhaps things are best left as they are.
There is one anomaly in the DO rules: Cava. This covers Spain's finest sparkling wines, which are made by the same method as that used in Champagne (though the French will not let them say so) and was originally concerned only with the details of this method. Now it does have geographical limitations but the principal thrust is still concerned with method rather than with geography.
In surface area Spain is the second biggest country in western Europe, ranking after France, and in terms of vineyard area it is the biggest. In 1995 it had 1,327,900 ha, of which 649,792 ha were DO. But it ranked only fourth in production, after France, Italy and the USSR (as it then was). The total production was 29,740,000 hi of which 9,600,000 hl were DO wines, giving 22.4 hl/ha overall and only 14.8 hl/ha for DO wines. These figures should be compared with over 60 hl/ha in Bordeaux in 1985, admittedly a prolific year there, but nevertheless a good vintage year in a district where yields are deliberately reduced. There are several reasons for this. Spain is very sparsely populated, so the pressure to produce large yields did not exist. After Switzerland, it has the highest average height in Europe and is very rocky and infertile so that in many places only vines and olive trees will grow. In most vineyards there is a shortage of water, especially in the summer; irrigation is not allowed except 'experimentally' and to save the lives of very young vines or the vineyards generally in the years of greatest drought. This follows from EU law, and is probably a mistake when you consider what good wines are made from carefully irrigated vineyards in Australia, but it does reduce the 'wine lake'. There is a movement to do away with the ban. Many of the vines are over forty years old, which greatly reduces yield per vine. And in the DO districts yield is generally reduced deliberately in the interests of quality. Garnacha vines, for instance, tend to produce very dim wines if the yield is high but can produce great ones in the right place if it is kept very low. Whatever the vine, in the DOs quality is protected by decrees of rendimiento. If grapes are pressed to yield the last drop of juice, the resulting must is of very poor quality; hence each district sets a limit to the amount that can be abstracted. This is between 65 and 7o per cent. Nowadays grapes are tested when growers deliver them to a bodega. A mechanical arm is lowered into the middle of a truckload of grapes and a sample is taken that is analysed immediately by an electrical device to measure sugar and acidity, which have to be in balance if the grower is to get the highest price.
Another feature is the remarkably wide variety of the wines grown. This comes from Spain's sheer size, stretching from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean and from the Pyrenees to Tarifa, not to mention the islands. It is also very mountainous, with several massive ranges, and ascends from the coast to the high central Meseta. The northern Atlantic coast is cool and damp. The Mediterranean coast is agreeably warm though it can be very hot in summer as you get further south. The mountains behind are much cooler, especially at night. And the whole of the central Meseta is horribly cold in winter and very hot indeed in summer. There are as many soils as there are microclimates and an enormous choice of vines. It has everything and in terms of wine it produces practically everything.
Vineyards respect geography but not politics. Thus they can straddle from one province to another or appear as small outcrops far from their nearest neighbours. It is therefore not easy to divide the country rationally into separate areas. In some, such as the Levant (Chapter 7), there is a close resemblance between the various wines. In others, such as those grouped in the north-west (Chapter 6), the vineyards are more scattered and the differences more marked; but they are all principally influenced by Atlantic rather than Mediterranean or continental weather patterns.
The chapters that follow group the vineyards into manageable areas, but very real differences can exist within them. Each DO is described separately, together with some wines that do not enjoy DO status but which are nevertheless significant — sometimes very significant. The description for each DO is prefaced by a section giving the vital data and is followed by a list of some of the major bodegas, though the choice of these is necessarily subjective. Terms that may not be understood are explained in the Glossary at the end.
Continues...
Excerpted from The Wines of Spain by Julian Jeffs Copyright © 2006 by Julian Jeffs. Excerpted by permission.
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