Some Delicious CdP Wine History

To understand how remarkable the Beaucastel and Champauvins wine deals we are offering this Thursday really are, we’re going to have to do a little wine history. Don’t worry – there’s no test! But it is deliciously interesting.

It Begins with the Popes
While vineyards have dotted the southern Rhone Valley for centuries, plantings in what we now know as Chateauneuf du Pape really got going in the early 1300s when the French popes arrived in Avignon. With surge in population of priests, bishops, cardinals and more, wine demand spiked. Soon new plantings spread everywhere, including across the hot, dry, plains and plateaus to the north of Avignon. When the second Avignon pope, John XXII, built a summer castle on a hill amid the vines, it was christened “Chateauneuf du Pape” – the Pope’s new castle.

The popes went back to Rome in 1378 and with them went much of the region’s demand. Over the centuries to come, wines from the broader Southern Rhone came to be known as Vin d’Avignon and gradually began finding markets in Paris to the north. The wines of Lirac on the west bank of the Rhone were most highly valued, so much so that the growers near the pope’s new castle began trying to pass off their wines as Lirac. To stop the fraud, in 1737 the king ordered that casks of Lirac wine shipped from the nearby river port of Roquemaure had the exclusive right to stamp their casks with a new logo: Cotes du Rhone.

Saving Chateauneuf du Pape
Without a brand of their own, the growers near the pope’s new castle languished, especially after phylloxera cut plantings down by 70-80%. The region’s principal market: Burgundy, where their wine was used to add color and body to thin Pinot Noir.

The transformation from Vin d’Avignon to Chateauneuf du Pape begins in 1919 when Baron Pierre le Roy returns home from WWI and marries the daughter of the owners of Ch Fortia. Le Roy was determined to see the fame (and price) of his wine increase, and he organized other quality-oriented vine owners into the Syndicat de Chateauneuf and promulgated rules for types of vines permitted, yields, minimum alcohol levels and more in 1923. He then founded Institut National des Appellations d’Origine (INAO) in 1935 and, after years of lobbying and legal action, made the Syndicat’s proposed rules legally binding in 1936.

From then forward, a wine could only be called Chateauneuf du Pape if it met all the rules and was grown within the legal bounds of the region.

Drawing the Boundaries
But, where did those bounds come from? From the beginning, Le Roy believed that great Southern Rhone wine needed to come from poor, infertile soil (so vines would focus on ripening fruit instead of growing canopy). His initial rule was simple: Chateauneuf du Pape vineyards could only be on land where both thyme and lavender grew wild. Needless to say, he realized that he’d need to be more precise eventually.

So, in 1919, he drew what would become the official map of Chateauneuf du Pape.

To the south and west of the town of Chateauneuf, setting boundaries was easy. As the land sloped down towards the Rhone River, it became too wet to support vineyards.

Slicing Up Beaucastel
The eastern side was also easy, if not really based on vineyard character. The drafters simply followed the main road running from Avignon to Orange (now the A7 Autoroute) from the village of le Coulaire in the south and up to the end of the vineyards belonging to Chateau Beaucastel in the north.

This sliced one of Beaucastel’s vineyards – called Coudoulet – in two, leaving half of the vineyard in and half out of Chateauneuf. The owners of Beaucastel don’t appear to have protested at the time, probably not seeing the why it mattered.

Leaving Out Champauvins
What happened next is a bit of a mystery. The Jaume family farmed a collection of vineyards pretty much due west of Beaucastel and just under the Orange road. The vineyards have the same sub-soils and top-soils as Beaucastel, were covered by the rounded “galet” stones that are Chateauneuf’s hallmarks, and were planted to the same grapes. The logical thing to do would have been to simply continue to follow the road as it curved around to the west a little further and then allow the line to curve back down to the south to the river as the soils changed from red, iron rich gravel to more sand and limestone after the Jaume’s vineyards ended.

Instead, the drafters elected to abandon the Orange road just above Beaucastel and draw the boundary line down a narrow gravel path that ran right through the middle of the Jaume vineyards. The very fine vineyards planted in 1905 and still used for Grand Veneur Chateauneuf du Pape Les Origines plus another medium-sized vineyard became Chateauneuf. The 35 hectare Champauvins vineyard, identical in every way to the vineyards across the 10 foot wide path would be Cotes du Rhone.

Visit either Ch Beaucastel or Domaine Grand Veneur today, and their owners will fluently and passionately explain that there is simply no difference between their vines just inside Chateauneuf and those just beyond the region’s official borders. And, in the middle 20th Century, both estates lobbied to have the lines re-drawn to no avail.

So both have pursued the very best kind of revenge: making terrific wines that frequently rival, and sometimes exceed, the quality of most “real” Chateauneuf du Pape.

The New Wave Flows Through Spain

Previous: The New Wave Gathers Around the World

All change is easier, of course, when there’s financial pressure to change. Australia’s “New Wave” was certainly sparked by the collapse of exports after the 2007 financial crisis. And similar slumps in demand for wines of adequate quality, international style, and low prices are shaping trends in Chile and Argentina, too.

In Spain, those issues are in play. But the bigger challenge is the continuing collapse of domestic wine consumption. As recently as the mid-1970s, the Spanish drank an average of 70 liters of wine per person per year. Since 2008, per capita consumption has been under 20 liters of wine per year (following similar trends in France and Italy, reflecting both general cultural changes and government campaigns against overconsumption and drunk driving). So the door has been opened to do something new.

As far as I know, there was no gathering of Spanish winemakers to proclaim a new wave of Spanish wine, and there’s really no single point in time when we can say the wave began. There’s no question, though, that two Spaniards have been particularly influential in the trend.

First, Raul Perez. Born in Bierzo in 1972, Perez wanted to be a doctor, but his family’s winery was failing and he was needed to pitch in to keep it afloat. He first cleaned up the winery and the farming of his family’s old vine Mencia grapes, taking the wine a solid step above the bulk wine status of almost all Bierzo of the time. Then, in 2003, he struck out on his own.

Today Perez is easily the most influential winemaker in Spain and one of the most influential in the world (a Decanter magazine article on Perez a few years ago showed his picture with the caption, “Is this the best winemaker in the world?”). His energy is legendary and he seems to be everywhere, consulting on new winery construction, advising on planting new and revitalizing old vines, and giving formal and informal advice on winemaking.

And whether by direct inspiration or parallel insight, his basic approach to Spanish wine has been adopted by dozens of ambitious young (and not so young) winemakers across Spain. The approach:

• Seek out old places and old vines for their ability to speak distinctively
• Focus on traditional grapes of your place – while recognizing that “tradition” could reach back a thousand years or only 100 or so
• Farm for ripeness plus freshness, getting physiological ripeness without overripe flavors that blur what’s distinctive about the grapes
• Limit intervention in the vineyard (in terms of sprays, cultivation) and in the winery (do not add enzymes or yeast and limit the use of sulfur to the bare minimum necessary for stable wine)
• Use oak casks to shape the wine and allow it to express itself versus flavoring it with high toast levels and new wood
• Experiment, including playing with very long macerations and very old techniques (like clay amphora instead of wood barrels for fermentation and/or aging)

The other singular contributor to this growing new wave of Spanish wine isn’t a winemaker at all: It’s wine writer and critic Luis Gutiérrez. While working in corporate IT, Gutiérrez helped launch elmundovino.com, Spain’s leading online wine resource. He’s written multiple books on Spanish wine, has been a regular contributor to JancisRobinson.com, and has won multiple awards from international and Spanish wine organizations for his writing and reporting. And, since 2013, he has been the lead writer on Spanish wines for Robert Parker’s The Wine Advocate.

I certainly don’t agree with everything Gutiérrez writes (his fondness for oxidized wines mystifies me). But his knowledge of Spanish wine history and regions is immense and his curiosity and enthusiasm infectious. More than any other writer I know of, Gutiérrez has explored and thought about the changing Spanish wine scene and helped those of us far away discover new and exciting regions and producers. And, in at least some cases, he’s helped those producers find the markets they need to continue their work and thrive.

In this six-pack, you’ll find a half-dozen wines that we believe represent how New Wave Spain is playing out in the bottle to varying degrees. And on the New Wave Spain rack in the store you’ll discover even more, including wines from Raul Perez and other leading lights in the movement like Envinate, Daniel Landi, Pedro “Guimaro” Rodriguez and more.

In some cases, the wines align with these tenants almost completely. In others, winegrowers are moving in this direction. In all they are distinctively delicious expressions of Spain – and well worth your attention.

Surf the New Wave of Spanish wine with us. It’ll be a blast.

The New Wave Gathers Around the World

Previous: The Old Wave in Spain

As we explore New Wave Spain, I’m going to posit a pattern that applies to virtually all wine regions of the world. It emerges at different times and unfolds at different speeds and with very different particulars. But the broad pattern is, or will be, repeated virtually everywhere in the world of wine. It’s playing out in Spain today.

Phase I: Acceptability

The first part of the pattern applies to the vast majority of the history of every wine region: the pursuit of acceptability. During this phase of a wine region’s history, the driving goal of the overwhelming majority of wine growers and makers is simple: produce an alcoholic beverage drinkers will not reject. Initially the quest is merely to produce wine that can be drunk, i.e., that isn’t revolting. As more and more people begin making wine, some are more appealing than others. And as drinkers experience those more appealing wines, the floor of what they consider “not revolting” rises. Quality increases.

Phase II: Durability

The next phase of the pattern emphasizes durability, the ability of acceptable wine to remain acceptable over time and, crucially, during travel. This phase gains steam as winemakers attempt to sell their wine outside of their home region, especially to places that cannot grow and make wine themselves.

Champagne is a great example. In the 1500s, Champagne’s red wines were too pale and tart to be acceptable outside the region and its white wines too fragile to survive travel. So producers developed the process of making white wine from red grapes to create a product sturdy enough to withstand travel by ox- and horse-drawn cart from Champagne to markets in the low countries.

The things winemakers do to make their wines durable sometimes reduces their acceptability at first. For Bordeaux to travel successfully from France to England, it needed more stuffing and, critically, more preserving tannin. When young, the tannins made the wines feel hard and drying, so once Bordeaux arrived in England, it needed time in castle and mansion and church cellar for the tannins to polymerize and feel softer. Over time the ability to age into drinkability morphed into to a desirable one. Wines that are better at age 10 or 20 were seen as higher in quality and more valuable.

Phase III: Differentiation

Once wine is regularly leaving its home region and traveling the world, it finds itself in a market crowded with competitors. How to stand out? One option is by developing a brand that wine drinkers believe denotes quality. What had been called “clairette” for its pale color becomes “claret,” the Bordeaux wines drunk by the rich and, so, desirable for all. Wines from Spain’s La Rioja and Navarre, and from the Basque province of Álava become “Rioja” and claimed the title of the finest wines of Spain.

The other option is to become cheap, at least for the quality. It’s hard for an entire region to both be cheap and claim even acceptable quality. But the 20th century practice of naming wines for their grapes helped a lot. We know high-quality Bordeaux is mainly Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon. So with inexpensive wines from Chile, Australia and Spain looking for markets, wineries combine low prices with the quality claim of the grape varietal name.

Phase IV: Ripeness (The Parker Years)

In the 1980s a new phase emerged: the search for ripeness. One person is the face of, and arguably the most potent force for, this movement: a former lawyer for a Baltimore gas company and resident of tiny Monkton, Maryland, named Robert Parker. With his Wine Advocate publication, Parker is regularly cast as both a hero and villain in the story of wine’s past 50 years. Now retired, at the height of his influence (from the mid-1980s through early 2010s), he was undoubtedly the most influential (powerful?) critic of anything to ever put pen to paper. Love from Parker could make your career and set your family up financially for life. Rejection by Parker could lead to ruin.

Parker’s a complex guy, and it’s not easy to sum up what he considered “good” wine. I think it’s fair to say that Parker had an exceptionally high tolerance for substantial levels of alcohol, relatively low levels of acidity, the flavor of French oak, and, perhaps, the presence of residual sugar in wine. And he certainly had little respect for claims of quality in wine based on historical fame – his willingness to declare that the emperor had no clothes when tasting legendary wines was a huge factor in his rise to fame and fortune.

But if you look at the body of Parker’s work over time, you’ll soon realize that the thread that ties everything together is a deep, abiding dislike of the flavor of under-ripe grapes. Specifically, wines that showed the “green” aromas, flavors and tannin structures that are the hallmarks of skins still too thick and seeds and stems still too green.

So at the insistence of Parker, his fellow travelers, and his legion of consumer fans, wine grape growers around the world embarked on a pursuit of physiological ripeness. The simplest way to achieve that was lowering yields (so the vine had fewer grapes to ripen), pulling leaves (so more sun could hit the grapes), and, most of all, waiting to pick until seeds were brown. And, in doing this, we can say one thing for sure: The average quality of wine made and sold in the world got better.

Phase V: Differentiation Again

The final phase we can see in the world of wine today might be called “Pursuit of Differentiation, Part 2.” The problem with seeking physiological ripeness through lower yields, leaf pulling and later harvests is that it also leads grapes to develop more sugars (so higher alcohol), lowers acidity, and leads to development of super-ripe flavors that increasingly taste the same regardless of grape varietal or place. Add on a healthy dose of toasty French oak flavor and it becomes hard to tell Pinot Noir from Syrah or Bordeaux from Napa.

And when your “best” wine tastes pretty much like the “best” wines from everyplace else, it’s awfully hard for many winemakers to find their work fulfilling. Many, of course, are happy to do their work like an industrial engineer and find the successful work of process optimization that turns out consistently commercially successful wines (and a good paycheck) complete and satisfying. For others, not so much.

Which brings us to today and the phase of winemaking history we’re seeing in places as far separated as Chile, Argentina, Australia, California’s North Coast and Spain. In all those places, a growing number of winegrowers are seeking to make differentiated wines based on criteria other than pleasing the “Parker palate.” Make no mistake: There has been no abandonment of the pursuit of physiological ripeness! But innovative, often younger winemakers are increasingly seeking to get there in ways that maximize the unique flavors and characters of their wines.

What does that look like on the ground? In some places, it’s turning away from “international varietals” (think Cabernet, Syrah, Sauvignon Blanc and Chardonnay) to focus on older, less well-known grapes that grow in only a few places in the world. It’s reducing the use of new oak by using more transparent fermentation and aging vessels like larger old oak casks, raw concrete tanks, even very old-school clay amphorae. Most everywhere, it’s searching for ways to get skins and seeds fully ripe while preventing the development of anonymous overripe aromas and flavors. And, as a byproduct of that, making wines with lower alcohols and higher acidities – a combination often called “freshness.”

Many of us find “fresher” wines more drinkable and satisfying (others may find them tart, thin, and unsatisfying). But all can agree that picking ripe versus overripe, working with distinctive varietals, and not covering the wine in new oak maximizes the difference between wines. And, perhaps, offers the chance to differentiate by something no one else in the world can copy: your place.

Next: The New Wave Flows Through Spain

What’s the ‘Old Wave’ of Spanish Wine?

Previous: New Wave Spain Six-Pack

Before we talk about the “New Wave,” let’s think about the “Old Wave.” Here’s an old Spanish saying: “There are three wines in Spain: Rioja, Cava and whatever they make in your home town.”

That’s a pretty good description of both the domestic and international view of the Spanish wine market through the 1970s. Cava (called “Spanish Champagne” until after the Treaty of Versailles outlawed that label) was the world’s good value fizz. Rioja – especially old, heavily oak-influenced wines – was the one Spanish wine to have achieved prominence before the 20th century and still carried the nation’s flag in the wine market. And “the wine of your home town” is what Spanish citizens drank every day and no one outside of Spain ever saw
at all.

By the 1990s, though, Spanish wine was everywhere in the world of wine. At the low-end of the market, cheerful co-op Garnacha and Tempranillo and mass-produced, very inexpensive Cabernet, Merlot, Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc gushed out of Spain and into the value sections of global wine stores. At the high-end, attention from international critics like Robert Parker introduced the world to super-ripe, well-oaked reds from Ribera del Duero, Priorat, and even flashier examples of Rioja. And, here and there, the fresh and crisp whites of Rueda (Verdejo) and Rias Baixas (Albariño) began to get traction as well.

That’s a lot of diversity! But over the top of all that diversity was one overriding theme: In Spanish wine, “higher quality” usually meant “more wood and older wine.” It started in Rioja where producers ranked there wines at three levels: “Crianza” (younger, less oak); Reserva (longer aging, more oak) and Gran Reserva (many years aging, LOTS of oak). And the oak most often used was more overt and spicy American Oak versus more reserved, subtle, French oak. So in addition to ripeness and value, the number one association most wine lovers had with Spanish wine was oak.

Next up: The New Wave Gathers Around the World

Ride the New Wave of Spanish Wine!

Our May 2023 New Wave Spain Six-Pack showcases some deliciously exciting trends in Spanish wine, introducing you to flavors, textures, and styles you might not expect from Spain. The next few blog posts will give you a little background on your six-pack and the movement we’re calling “New Wave Spain.”

First, we’ll cover the wines in the six-pack: where each wine is from, what wines of that region are typically like, the people who made the wine, and a brief tasting note.

Then we’ll offer background on what’s happening in Spain – and a take on what’s happening around the world. We’ll look at what we might call “Old Wave” Spain, how this “New Wave” pattern repeats across wine regions,* and, finally, a discussion of the key players and tenants of what we’re calling “New Wave Spain.”

* “The New Wave Gathers Around the World,” might also be called “Doug’s Theory of How We Got Here.” By training and pre-wine experience, I’m an industry and competitive analyst, and this section applies that lens to my understanding of the history of wine. It’s a first cut at the topic, and I expect those more knowledgeable and skillful to poke holes in it. Read at your own peril!

Next up: The New Wave Spain Six-Pack

What Is Claret? A Quick History

This week we’re offering a Washington Red made from Bordeaux varietals that the winery has named “claret.” This big impact red is made from close to equal parts Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Cabernet Franc with splashes of Petite Verdot and Malbec – a blend commonly found on the “Left Bank” of Bordeaux. And the style, balance, touch of savory herb and cellar potential all evoke Bordeaux as well. To signal all that, the winery named the wine with the classic British term for Bordeaux:  “Claret.”

But how did Bordeaux come to be called Claret (pronounced kleh·ruht – not “clair-ay” as I used to say to myself reading old English mystery novels)?  Oh those wacky Brits! 

Bordeaux first became widely popular in England in the late 17th Century.  Europe was well in the grips of a different kind of climate change then and through the 18th Century, one that delivered year after year of cold summers with little sunshine.

Sitting just off the cold waters of the Atlantic, Bordeaux wines were far less ripe and rich than they are today. And much less dark, sometimes struggling to reach the color concentration we might associate with a modern Bandol or Tavel rosé.  (Fun fact – until the early 20th Century, the primary buyers of Syrah grapes grown on the famous hill of Hermitage in the Northern Rhone were Burgundy and Bordeaux winemakers trying to get more color in their wines!).

The French called wines like this “claret” in Old French from the Latin word for “clear.” By 1700 or so the term was picked up by English wine lovers to describe the Bordeaux wines they loved.

And, today, you’ll find it used here and there to describe “Bordeaux blends” like this one that aim to capture a touch of Bordeaux class and style: Matthews Columbia Valley Claret.

Coteaux du Giennois: Supplanting Sancerre?

The Coteaux du Giennois is a long, narrow, wine region that’s more or less a northern extension of the soils and climate of Pouilly Fume, itself just across the Loire River from Sancerre. Before phylloxera, the hills of Giennois were covered in vines.

But after the root louse, a depression and two World Wars, the vines withered away and vineyards were largely abandoned in the early/mid 20th Century as being too cool to regularly ripen Sauvignon. Instead, local attention turned to cattle farming and growing grains.

But now, in the 21st Century, this region has stormed into its own as climate change makes Sancerre and Pouilly Fume harder and harder to deliver with mouthwatering vibrancy and cut.

Domaine de Villargeau. Brothers Jean-Fernand and François Thibault did well in the grain business, specializing in growing corn for biodegradable bags. But they noticed the resurgence of Sauvignon in Sancerre and Pouilly, and in 1991 cleared some abandoned hillside vineyards and began to replant.

Second generation Marc Thibault joined in 2002, expanded plantings to even more favorable sites, converted to fully certified sustainable farming and winemaking, and otherwise tried to let the place speak in the bottle.

The sustainably farmed fruit doesn’t need much work in the winery. A gentle press, fermentation slowly in cool stainless steel, a brief rest on the fine lees of fermentation (also in steel), and then gentle bottling are pretty much all it takes. Then, for the single vineyard wines, the patience to wait for the wine to grow and evolve a bit in tank and bottle before release.

Dom De Villargeau – Coteaux Du Giennois Sans Complexe

Raul Perez and His New Bierzo Releases

“Is this the best winemaker in the world?” (caption of Raul Perez photograph, Decanter, 2018)

Who is Raul Perez and what are his wines like? As Vinous wrote last summer,

“Even though there are undoubtedly many people in the Spanish wine business named “Raúl,” there’s only one person who springs to mind in Spain when that name is mentioned, such is his presence and omnipresence.”

And in 2019, Decatur magazine put Perez in the class of

“rare geniuses who act upon intuition. One cannot classify their wines; they are simply inimitable, because those wines have somehow encrypted in their tasting profile the unique combination of their terroir’s message, along with the personality of their creator. Intuitive geniuses are transmitters of feelings and visions. Raúl Pérez is the archetype of the intuitive winemaking genius.”

Perez’s focus is on wines from Galicia and, especially, from Spain’s Bierzo region on the border of Galicia and Castilla y Leon. Born in Bierzo in 1972, he wanted to be a doctor, but his family’s winery was failing and he was needed to pitch in to keep it afloat. He first cleaned up the winery and the farming of his family’s old vine Mencía grapes, taking the wine a solid step above the bulk wine status of almost all Bierzo of the time.

But he wanted more and gradually began experimenting with picking Mencía just-ripe instead of dark and dimpled and allowing fermentations and macerations to move slowly with native yeast kicking things off, little to no sulfur added to protect the grapes, and macerations (the time the wine remains on the skins and seeds) running up to 40 days, two to three times longer than normal. The results:

“These are brilliant, artisanal, hand-crafted wines that words simply cannot begin to describe. They must be experienced to be believed.” (Wine Advocate on first reviewing Raul Perez’s wines in 2008)

“The reds tend to show distinct spiciness and floral- and mineral-driven character, even in ripe years like 2019. These are highly individual wines of real personality and unique character, making them among the most intriguing wines being made anywhere and at any price.” (Vinous, June 2021)

We’d add: The wines are crazy delicious and all make regular appearances on my dinner table (and would occupy big swaths of my cellar if I didn’t drink them so quickly). As Wine Advocate says of the 2019 Ultreia Saint Jacques, they are “nothing short of spectacular.” Especially from $18.98.

We’ve been raving about the Bierzo whites and reds of Gandalf-bearded Raul Perez for a few years now, in hopes of convincing you that you simply must try his wines. You can join the cult (or at least get a peek inside the compound) with Wine Advocate 94 point red 2018 Bierzo Tinto Ultreia St. Jacques from $18.98. And explore some of the 96 and 98+ point single vineyard wines, too!

Raul Perez Ultreia Reds

Wachau Riesling – Delicious Value, Deep History

This week’s Tegernseerhof Rieslings are loaded with both delicious value and deep history.

All from Austria’s Wachau wine region, a very old stretch of the Danube Valley now designated a UNESCO World Heritage site. (Technically, Pfaffenberg is just outside the Wachau’s bounds, but that’s just silly legal squabbling).

The region first appears on the world stage in 1192, when Leopold V, Duke of Austria, held Richard the Lionheart captive for ransom there for 14 months. And the Loibenberg was first cited for its quality in 1253, our first recorded mention of a specific Austrian vineyard.

The Tegernseerhof winery’s history dates from 1176, when the Benedictine community of the Tegernsee Abbey built the oldest part of the winery. After a spell of ownership by the Hapsburg monarchy, Tegernseerhof has been the Mittelbach family’s estate through five generations.

Modern Classics
For all the history and tradition, though, all three of these wines are very much modern classics courtesy of one of the Wachau’s most energetic and intense current winemakers, Martin Mittelbach.  Martin was in his early 20s when he took over winemaking duties from his father, but he immediately made his mark with a simple decision: he insisted his wines be dry vs the sweeter style favored by his father’s generation. And for 20+ years now, Martin has honed his winemaking craft to ensure minimal intervention and maximum expression of each vineyard site and vintage.

The 2020 Tegernseerhof Riesling Ried Pfaffenberg is one of the finest values in dry Riesling we’ve tasted in years. It’s just a joy to drink, delivering Riesling’s unique blend of ripe and juice peach and lime fruit matched by invigorating bite and sensations of salty stones and cold steel. From $18.98, it’s a wonderfully refreshing solo sipper, but perhaps even better with super-flavorful southeast Asian dishes or even freshwater fish with just a squeeze of lemon or lime.

The 2019 Tegernseerhof Riesling Loibenberg Smaragd delivers pretty much the essence of dry Wachau Riesling – mineral, salty, driving, fresh – complemented by the almost creamy texture Loibenberg is famous for.  As Wine Advocate says in their 94 point review, “Finessed and refreshingly pure and mineral on the palate with a serious phenolic structure and food-friendly grip, this is an excellent, salty, piquant and tensioned Loibenberg with a long and stimulating finish.”

The Advocate’s drinking window of 2021-2050 for the 2019 Loibenberg might seem a bit over the top – until you taste the gloriously fresh 2006 edition.  From a great vintage famed for wines of excellent power and depth, the 2006 bursts from your glass with layered aromas and flavors of Meyer lemon, dusty slate, green peach, and a touch of maturing Riesling’s classic “petrol” character as well. There’s so much going on here that you keep coming back for another sip so you can enjoy the show. And you can keep doing that for another dozen years or more.

If you love delicious, enlivening wines you can enjoy tonight and – if you’re patient – lay down for decades, all at great savings prices, these three new arrivals from Tegernseerhof should definitely be on your shopping list. 

Tegernseerhof Rieslings

A Taste of Priorat

Priorat is an unbelievably rugged wine region in Catalonia, a couple of hours inland and up-country from Barcelona. The climate is Mediterranean, with hot sunshine partially moderated by altitude and wind. The vines grow on steeply sloped hillsides of fractured slate – often you have to dig through a foot or more of broken rock to get to the shallow soils where young vines are planted.

Think of Chateauneuf du Pape (Sort of)
If the notion of soil hidden by stones brings to mind Chateauneuf du Pape, you’re on the right track. Except the rock is splintered granite instead of rounded off river stones. The main grapes overlap with Chateauneuf’s – Grenache, Syrah, and Carignan predominate – and ripen to the same big, bold levels you find in the Southern Rhone.

Our favorite Priorat winemaker, Silvia Puig, blends her “entry level” AiAiAi this way, but Carignan – or Carinyena as it’s called here – plays a much bigger role (about 17% of AiAiAi’s blend). So you can think of Priorat as CdP but with more blue/black fruit character. And a more firm and powerful spine. And with an utterly unique and captivating sense of dusty slate on the nose, palate and finish.

Silvia Puig has been planting vineyards, growing grapes and making wine in Priorat for her whole adult life, and for the past 10 years or so she’s been creating some of the region’s most exciting, handcrafted wines under the En Numeros Vermells label. Until recently, she’s made her tiny lots of bold, rich reds and whites (from a few hundred to 3000 or so bottles of each wine) in the cellar of her home in the heart of Priorat.

Tiny Production
With such tiny production levels and a loyal customer base (like us – we sell more of Silvia’s wines than anyone!), she doesn’t have to present her wines to critics for review. But somehow Josh Raynolds of Vinous got his hands on a bottle of the 2014 AiAiAi. From a much more difficult vintage, he wrote:

“A heady, exotically perfumed bouquet evokes ripe red and dark berries, potpourri and Indian spices, along with suggestions of cola and smoky minerals. Concentrated yet lithe, showing strong energy and focus to its juicy black raspberry, lavender pastille and spicecake flavors. The floral quality gains strength with air, carrying through a very long, sweet and gently tannic finish that leaves sappy berry and mineral notes behind.” Vinous (Raynolds) 92 points

Sound good? Well 2020 is a much better year and this is an even more exciting wine.

In fact, even though this is Silvia’s “entry-level” red, it easily outshines most Priorat wineries’ top reds.

And the name? It comes from Silvia’s experience making wine in the basement of her house while tending young children playing in the cellar. “AiAiAi, get off those barrels.” “AiAiAi, don’t fall in the vat!” But the name is just as apt as a description of your reaction when you taste this 2020.

“AiAiAi! That’s delicious!”

ENV AiAiAi Priorat 2020