Catavino » sherry

Bidding Adieu to Old Favorites: Scholtz Hermanos Dessert Wine from Malaga

Quentin Sadler — Mon, 28 Nov 2011 15:26:51 +0000

It is never easy to say goodbye and to turn your back on a chapter of your past – parting always hurts and today I have to say two farewells.

I have been writing about Spain and Spanish wines for Catavino, as well as my own blog, for quite a while now, and sadly this will be my last Catavino piece, but by a remarkable coincidence this week saw another last for me regarding Spanish wine.

For almost thirty years I have been a devotee of a Málaga wines, especially those made by the wonderful, if rather un-Spanish sounding Scholtz Hermanos.

If you have never tried a Málaga, then you have really missed out as it can be one of the world’s great dessert wines and deserves to be as famous as Montilla-Moriles and Sherry which are its near neighbours in Andalucia. The Victorians, who often knew a good thing when they drank it, loved Málaga, calling it Mountain, or Mountain Wine, a direct translation of Montes which is the name of the mountainous sub-region just to the north of Málaga itself. Sadly, since that nineteenth century fame it has become almost forgotten and nowadays the region is more famous for holiday homes, Larios gin and San Miguel lager.

In fact so obscure has Málaga become that some years ago, when I was staying in the region, I attempted to order some to go with my dessert, but there was none to be had. This wasn’t in any old place either, but the Parador in the town of Antequerra which is at the very heart of the Málaga grape growing area of – if you can drink the wine anywhere, surely it ought to be there.

Traditionally only two grapes varieties are grown for the sweet Málaga wines, Moscatel (Muscat) and Pedro Ximén which is, of course known as Pedro Ximénez in Sherry and Montilla – strange but true, I was once in quite a bit of trouble with a Spanish customs officer at Almeria airport (trying to take frozen calamares out of Spain if you must know) and according to his badge his name was Pedro Ximénez!

The original Montes area has very few vines left in production today, but that is where the classic unctuously ripe Pedro Ximén hails from and their sweetness and intensity define the wine’s style – which is presumably why this area gave the wine its nineteenth century name?

Today a mere handful of producers make traditional Málaga dessert wines and they do not find it easy to keep going. Scholtz Hermanos was for a long time the standard bearer for the style and region and produced wines of stunning quality, but they closed in 1996 and the site of their bodega now houses a branch of El Corté Ingles.

As far as I can make out Málaga can be made in various ways and from combinations of base materials made from the grapes. Classically the grapes are picked super-ripe and concentrated further by being put out in the sun on esparto grass mats – a common scene in the Spain of my childhood. These intensely sweet raisined grapes are then fermented, but of course they contain so much sugar that the yeast can only manage a brief fermentation. Some juice is not fermented, but reduced down to a third of its original volume into a syrup called arrope. Some arrope is reduced down even further to make an almost black vino de color. Some juice remains unfermented, but fortified with the addition of grape spirit up to 15-16%, this is called mistela.

So a winemaker can call on any of these as well as a straightforward wine made from the sun-dried grapes and fortified wine too. All these things are sort of cobbled together into a wine that is then aged in old wood casks, sometimes in a solera system and often not. The finished wine often receives an additional dollop of some ancient reserve wines, whichever way they do it. It is a complex and wonderful process, but very hard to pin down in an easy to pigeon-hole kind of way. Indeed, thinking of Málaga simply as a fortified wine, like Port and Sherry is a little misleading, the truth is a little more complex and less predictable.

Any way, the other day I was at a tasting and a Spanish dessert wine was called for, so I opened my very last bottle of what I understood to be Scholtz Hermanos’s greatest wine:

Solera 1885 Scholtz Hermanos

Málaga

I cannot find anything out about this great winery as it no longer exists and when it did information was less easy to come by than today, but everything I have ever tried from them was superb and it seems they made over 30 different Málagas. I remember buying this bottle in Spain when I was 18, so I have had it for nearly thirty years. It is likely that the wine is mainly, if not all Pedro Ximén – it certainly has the figgy, raisiny, molasses nose and flavour of PX, but a certain freshness and elegance could be a pointer towards some Moscatel too, or as this was their top wine it might just not have any vino de color or very much arrope? Long ageing has made the wine perfectly integrated and it was utterly, utterly delicious with an array of cheeses, even smoked, and worked well with a rich chocolate tart too. Indeed it had a delicate chocolatey character, especially on the amazingly long finish, which showed none of its 18% alcohol, but was graceful and refined. It was also sweet without being sickly, I love rich PX wines from Montilla and Sherry, but this was lighter and fresher than those – another pointer towards not being pure PX, or just a very refined and elegant example?

If you enlarge the photograph of the bottle and study the wonderful label you will see that this wine was winning awards all over the world in the 1870s. That is because, as I understand it, the 1885 in the name is not the year the solera was laid down, but the year the Scholtz brothers bought the winery. I was once told that the solera was created right at the beginning of the bodega’s history, so something like 1807.

Fortunately for us a few producers are clinging on and continuing to make excellent Málaga in the old way:

Bodegas Larios, of gin fame, make some that are pretty good, most are Moscatel based, but their excellent Málaga Dulce is a PX and thanks to their excellent distribution network you can often find their wines in Spain.

The best of the remaining producers that I am aware of is Bodegas López Hermanos whose Pedro Ximenex Reserva de Familia is magnificent.

There are other glimmers of good news too, Bodegas Jorge Ordóñez make some stunning Málagas from Moscatel grapes, as does Telmo Rodriguez with his elegant, almost dainty Molino Real and MR wines.

However this week I slowly drank my last bottle Solera 1885 Scholtz Hermanos and relished an experience that I might never be able to repeat. It was a strange feeling saying goodbye to a wine forever, thinking about the time span of this astounding bottle, remembering when I bought it and what I was doing and ruminating on all that has happened since. Democracy in Spain was young then, the Cold War was raging, no one knew what Nelson Mandela looked like, Saddam was America’s friend and I was going to be the world’s greatest actor. It felt a little like watching my own life on film, I found it moving and a little melancholy.

Much like bidding adieu to the readers of Catavino.

Quentin Sadler

The Never Ending Journey: 6 Years of Transformation

Gabriella Opaz — Wed, 23 Nov 2011 13:13:12 +0000

Not surprisingly, I’ve delayed writing this post for weeks, dutifully trying to answer the question, “what happened over the past 6 years and how does one summarize such an experience in one article?” Admittedly, it’s absolutely impossible. To write a one off post on how our lives have changed feels as inconsequential as writing a paragraph on the death of reason. Well, then again, if you merged both topics, you just might have something!

If someone asked me 7 years ago if I would be prepared to live hand to mouth for half a decade in order to write about Iberian wine, in a country I had never been, speaking a language I had never uttered, to meet people from around the world that would eventually become life long friends, I would have offered a very cheeky grin and suggested they lay off the whiskey. If that very same someone went on to suggest that I would eventually find myself on the shoulders of Cristiano Van Zeller in a quaint restaurant in Matosinhos during Essencia do Vinho; sipping fresh olive oil with 2 Italian grandmothers in Umbria; sharing a glass of wine with the President of Croatia while overlooking the city of Zagreb; riding horseback high above the vineyards of Rioja, or simply enjoying horse sausage among new friends in their cozy and familiar apartment in Budapest, I would have asked them to seriously consider refraining from all stimulants, including acid. The notion would have been so preposterous, so out of my realm of understanding, that even the mere engagement of such an idea would have provoked a very quizzical look.

Nothing is Impossible

Allow me to repeat this statement: nothing is impossible. If there has ever been a truer nugget of wisdom, I have yet to encounter it. From day one, I have experienced more flavors, aromas, sites and sounds than most people have encountered in their entire lives; each and every one of these I would have initially defied impossible to experience. I might even have gone so far as to say they didn’t exist. Oh, how wrong I was. I still remember my head exploding when sitting down to a table full of sherry wines in Jerez, each vastly different in their color, each profoundly unique in their flavor and each perpetually misunderstood by the world at large. Like eating 1,001 different types of cured Spanish ham, Sherry opened my mind to the immense amount of diversity existing in the world. How did I not know about this? I would ask myself. How could I have generalized all Sherries as the same? This was a mistake I had made many times over the years, continuously doubting that life has a little magic to throw our way as long as we’re open to the experience.

Love Grows over Time

Prior to moving to Spain, I had imagined the Spanish landscape similar Greece, with white adobe houses, gorgeous blue waters and slinky cats skirting around every corner. Add a touch of New Mexican dessert with stunning orange sunsets and wild horses, and a dash of Hollywood pizazz where every woman had a sassy, no bullshit sexiness like Catherine Zeta- Jones, and you essentially have my image of Spain. It was naïve and childlike, sweet and completely out of sync with reality. The clue-stick eventually hit after landing in Madrid, one cold January morning, when I stepped out of the taxi to long barren city streets covered in cement and lined with dive bars, shoe shops, bakeries and enough pharmacies to make Pfizer have a mini orgasm. Taking a long hard look around me under a gray-blanketed sky, tears rolled down my cheeks. “Where the hell are the cats, the gorgeous blue waters, the stunning views? Damn it, where is my Zorro!”

It took many months before my appreciation for Spain grew into a full blown addiction. Though musky, cigarette infested banks, bar floors littered with cheap unabsorbant napkins, and haughty Spanish grandmothers decked out in pearls, fur shoals and bright red lipstick when taking out the garbage, I couldn’t help but eventually turn the corner. Despite the cultural differences, I so appreciated our varying ways of tackling the world – okay, maybe not the cigarettes in public buildings, but everything else was icing on the cake. It wasn’t, however, until that first spring morning when enjoying an array of tapas and wine on a sun dappled terrace that I became hooked.

What is Spain to me? It’s rugged, boisterous and opinionated. It loves nothing more than to tell you a fabulous tale, a juicy story, enhancing every bit of drama it can muster. It desperately cares about appearances, unwilling to do anything that might cause a raised eyebrow, but will nail you to the wall if you care to throw down a good debate. It’s stunning, geographically diverse, culturally passionate, and filled with some of the loveliest people I have ever encountered on the planet.

If there was ever at time the Spanish culture was more beautifully exemplified it was on a long and arduous train trip coming back from Paris. Having broken my foot on a biking tour, I was resigned to carrying my gear, with crutches, from Beaune to Dijon, from Dijon to Paris, from Paris to Irun, and finally, from Irun to Madrid. My saving grace was the telephone call made by my company requesting a porter to be present at every station to help me through the transfer. Not so bad, I thought, but when arriving to Paris, where a chestnut brown haired kid with brilliant green eyes helped the invalid off the train, I was met by my surly knight in matte gray smelling of cheap cologne and stale nicotine. His job was specifically to help me, but rather than lend a hand, he chose to instigate a fight through backhanded insults, flippant remarks, and a death-defying joyride through the vacuous station of Gare du Nord. Passing sunburnt tourists and hunched old men playing cards on wobbly wooden benches, we eventually arrived to my train with only a few minutes to spare. Hours later, the train hiccuped to a slow halt in Irun, awakening me from a deep slumber – limbs found sprawled out in a garage sale like fashion. Stumbling off the train, two men with toothy grins and a rickety chariot boisterously shouted, “Here is our adventurous woman! How was your trip so far guapisima?!” Blocking the sun from my eyes, I let several days of trapped air slowly escape my lungs in a deep relaxed sigh, while attempting to explain my arduous story from the crack of the bone to my Formula one wheelchair ride. Taking my hands, the shorter rounder Porter with bushy black caterpillars for eyebrows giggled, “Ah, this is why you should’ve simply stayed in one of our many bars enjoying a good Spanish wine with friends – a little laughter, good tapas and less drama! Sounds better, no?” Helping me into my final train, the lankier porter returned with a clear plastic cup filled with table wine. “Hasta luego Gabriella!” he chirped excitedly, as he placed his sun-kissed hands on my head while kissing on either cheek. “And remember, more wine and less biking!”

Despite all of the hardships we’ve had while stumbling our way through culture shock, poor customer service, and a sincere lack of immediacy for anything, I can’t help but smile for the number of wonderful experiences I’ve had in Spain, equally matched in Portugal.

Appreciating the Moment

Portugal on the other hand is vastly different from Spain. There is a sweet gentleness that spills from its pours. Many Portuguese speak with a singsong whisper, a gentle “sh” sounds that lulls you to sleep, and a trusting embrace that creates a heartfelt feeling of family. From warm delicious soups, sumptuously sweet Moscatels and vast amounts of boisterous laughter, Portugal has become a fast friend, a country that I will never deny an invitation to visit.

When I think of Portugal, my mind immediately goes to mouthwatering grilled fish and a glass of Arinto. I imagine long walks along the boardwalk in Lisbon with a gentle breeze consistently at my back; gorgeous, bright sunny days and beautiful train rides through the rustic Portuguese landscape. My mind also wanders to a magical afternoon spent at Cortes de Cima listening to Opera as the late summer sun casts deep orange shadows across rows of stunning vines; lunch with friends among the thriving green landscape of Rias Baixas, and the stunning terraced lands of the Douro.

Granted, I may never fully appreciate the vast number of cold showers and freezing cold bedrooms we’ve experienced throughout Portugal, but I can say that a glass of Port and a warm fire will always make up for it. How do I know this? Spend a cold, overcast evening at the Villar d’Allen Estate in the heart of Porto, and you will quickly realize how incredible company, a good conversation and roaring fire with a bottle of great port can make all the difference in the world. With 300 years of stories embedded in every crack and seam, the house literally breathes. You cannot walk a foot without stumbling upon a historical artifact dating back to the 17th century, or a book from the 14th. It’s absolutely incredible, a work of art, but come evening, when the cool winds bury themselves deep into your bones, you start eyeing that port as if it was a elixir of the Gods. And fortunately, when you’re at the Allen’s, it usually is.

This type of living museum is unique to the Villar d’Allen Estate, but Portugal as a whole is a testament to living history, and an incredible reason to visit!

The Never Ending Story

In short, for as long as I live, or visit, Iberia, you will never lack stories. If anything, this is merely a transition, a blip in the radar, a short evolution if you will. There is too much left to share, to experience, to communicate for us to stop cold. If anything, it’s simply a chance for you to keep experimenting, to keep pushing your cultural, gastronomical and vinous boundaries to perpetually try something new. We’ll never stop, and we hope you won’t either!

With a Full Heart and Much Appreciation,

Gabriella Opaz

(Photos by Ryan Opaz)

Wines of Andalucia: On the Rise and Worthy of Far Greater Attention

Quentin Sadler — Thu, 02 Jun 2011 10:15:30 +0000

I wish I was a winemaker, it seems such a wonderfully exciting, creative and honest thing to be. The skill and dedication required to make great wine beggars belief – the life consists of seriously hard work, but to the observer it seems attractive – idyllic even.

Whenever I hear about mavericks who create little wine estates in particularly beautiful and romantic places, I am drawn into daydreaming about having my own vineyard – who knows, one day I just might, but I would need a good dollop of more technical knowledge first.

Recently whole areas of Spain that I had previously written off as unlikely and unheard of wine regions have been opening up before me and they have really got me excited as to what is possible.

Not that long ago Spanish wine was pretty simple – good stuff only came from the cooler north, except Sherry. Those certainties of the past are no more however, suddenly it seems that there is no area of Spain that cannot produce good – or even great wine.

La Mancha, Jumilla, Yecla and Bullas all make good wines now, but most intriguing of all is Andalucia. Of course the province has long been world famous for wine, but really only one type – fortified. Andalucia’s most renowned product is Sherry, but Montilla-Moriles, Malaga and even Huelva all have a certain fame.

Now, increasingly I am being made aware of the non-fortified wines from this most southerly part of Spain.

My first experience of this was interesting, but hardly surprising; dry white wines made in the area of sherry production from the Palomino grape. Antonio Barbadillo’s Castillo de San Diego Palomino Fina Vino de la Tierra de Cadiz was the first such wine and is a great accompaniment to tapas – think very ripe Muscadet and you know what it is like.

But there seems to be much more on offer in the region nowadays. Most noticeably since 2000 Huerta de Albala, near Arcos de la Frontera, have been producing fantastic quality estate wines from the Vino de la Tierra de Cadiz appellation.

Their Taberner is a wonderfully luxurious pure Syrah, while the pinnacle of their range, the Taberner 1 blends in 20% Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon for extra complexity. Even their entry level Barbazul which uses 50% of Tintilla de Rota – the local clone of Graciano – is a well made, enjoyable and interesting wine.

However the real reason for my current excitement about Andalucian wine is that there is some being made in the Alpujarra Mountains to the south of Granada. This is a stunningly beautiful region of Spain that although hot in the Summer has reliable and plentiful water flowing from the Sierra Nevada – the Alpujarras form the southern fringe of the Sierra Nevada. The area is very fertile and produces a lot of citrus – Chris Stewart’s Driving Over Lemons was written about the place. I would have supposed it to be too fertile for wine grapes, but the steeper slopes have thinner, less rich soils that seem to compensate perfectly.

This amazing landscape is evocative of how many of us imagine Spain and the rugged terrain has become home to a surprising number of bodegas in recent years. They are all small and mainly one man band operations, building on the local traditions of making wine for personal production. What is different from the past is how ambitious many of them appear to be, not to create big brands or to sell millions of cases, but to craft high quality wine that are full of character and speak of their region.

It is hard to generalise about a region that enjoys very little fame for wine so far, but the local grape would appear to be the Vigiriega, which only grows here with a little in the Canary islands – what is is with so many grapes beginning with a ‘V’?

I had never experience it before, but the 2008 Brut Nature Sparkling Vigiriega from Bodegas Barranco Oscuro was a fascinating first taste of this grape. The acidity was high and apricoty, while the yeast autolysis from the traditional method gave satisfying levels of complexity and the balancing dosage of unfermented Vigiriega juice gave a cider-like, bruised apple fruit character. The whole thing is slightly obscured perhaps, because this bodega, like many others in this outer frontier of winemaking, embrace the ‘natural’ wine philosophy.

The second white from this producer was also possibly my first Spanish pun!

2008 Tres Uves (uves is V’s, while uvas is grapes!) is made from Viognier, Vermentino and Vigiriega. It offered lovely orange scented aromatics while the oak was beautifully integrated on the palate.

The vines here are grown at around 1400 metres above sea level where the cooler mountain air ensures the grapes do not cook, brings big temperature changes between night and day and are apparently the highest in Europe. In fact their top wine, a red, is even called Cerro Los Monjas 1364 after the height of the vineyard and the 2003 vintage is a smooth and supple – if bretty and funky – blend of Tempranillo, Pinot Noir, Garnacha, Cabernet Franc, Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot.

The height of course also ensures there is a proper winter to give the vines a real rest and snow is far from unusual in these parts.

I was also intrigued to taste some wines from some 50 kilometres further north, in the Sierra Nevada proper near Gaudix. Bodega Cauzon is a labour of love by former restauranteur Ramón Saavedra, he does everything organically and counters the blistering summer heat of the region by favouring north facing vineyards, which he planted in 1999.

His 2010 Cauzon Blanco was an unoaked, tangy and slightly salty blend of 30% Sauvignon Blanc, 30% Viognier, 30% Chardonnay and 10% Torrontés – which may or not be the same Torrontés as Ribeiro and Argentina!

Ramón’s 2010 Mozuelo Tinto was a slightly confusingly (Mazuelo?) named blend of Cabernets Franc and Sauvignon, but was deliciously supple, richly fruity and hugely enjoyable – just the sort of wine to put this obscure, but promising place on the map.

The next time you are in Granada and the waiter tries to sell you a Rioja with your meal you can tell him fro me that there are really interesting wines a lot closer to home.

What with reports of sparkling wine in Huelva it seems that the wines of Andalucia are finally on the rise and worthy of far greater attention.

Cheers,

Quentin Sadler

London International Wine Fair, Rioja Hype and Gorgeous Fino “En Rama”

Ryan Opaz — Thu, 26 May 2011 09:34:04 +0000

From time to time, life gets a bit hectic when our more lucrative projects take center stage. For those of you who aren’t aware, Catavino is the promotional wing of our business, Vrazon, and although we would love for this to change (hint hint, wink wink), its success is purely driven by the deep-seeded passion of both ourselves and our many fabulous writers. We love Spain and Portugal, and it’s because of this adoration that we do our best to keep this site alive and kicking; but it also means that we need to let go of our incredibly thorough posts to provide you a few shorter, dynamic snippets every now and again. Today, is one of those days.

This past weekend, we returned from the London International Wine Fair where we broadcasted live online from our stand, Access Zone. Jam packed with interactive workshops and tastings, the Access Zone is a place where we consult the wine industry on how to come to terms with its stone age mentality to wine online. And it was during this very exciting 3 days that we stumbled across a rather incredible Sherry wine.

Tio Pepe’s Fino en Rama was released, once again, at the 2011 London International Wine Fair. Last year, we were not able to get a chance to taste this rare treat, but fortune smiled sweetly upon us this year. “En Rama” is a style of sherry that essentially means “unfined and unfiltered”, straight from the cask and full of all the personality. “Raw” might be a better way to explain it. The Tio Pepe Fino en Rama is a king among Finos, showcasing its rich and robust salt air character; and according to marketing director at Gonzalez Byass, Jeremy Rocket, it even retains some of the flor it was born from. He was generous enough to swing by our stand last Thursday afternoon to give us a sip of this rare wine, and it did not fail to disappoint. If anything, our stand was considerably more packet with outstretched hands vying for a sip. Near impossible to keep in stock, I have no clue how to get you a bottle, but if you ever get the chance do not miss out. Fingers crossed because it’s absolutely worth your time! (two nice posts from last years edition: Thirst for wine and Wine Anorak)

On a separate topic, I came across an article in Decanter a few weeks back that left a sour taste in my mouth. Today, there is a global movement, led by the Center for Wine Origins, to get new world wine regions to respect old world names. In the USA, they want wineries to stop using terms like “Port wine” and “Champagne” as they are related to a specific location. The intention is to make the consumer aware that Champagne means “a sparkling wine made in Champagne, France”, not a sparkling wine made in the same way as Champagne but from California, for example. Evidently, the famed Spanish region of Rioja has been fighting with Argentina over their up and coming wine region called, you guessed it…“Rioja”. Spain, however, lost the battle, thus, there will continue to be Rioja wine from Argentina. Now, while I hope people will move away from using Port and Sherry outside their designated regions, I don’t necessarily feel badly for Rioja. Why? Because Rioja can’t even find a way to promote the region as a whole. Invited last year to the “Grandes de Rioja” tasting, a large contingent of wines from Rioja were missing, simply because they were from Rioja Alavesa. Seeing that Rioja Alavesa is technically in Basque country, the political region of Rioja, where the tasting was held, refuses to promote them. With amazing wineries like Remírez de Ganuza, among others, this seems to be a case of cutting ones nose off to spite the face. Every wine fair I’ve attend hosts multiple stands for Rioja, further confusing the wine buyer and general public. Until Rioja realizes that the name “Rioja” is one entity to consumers outside Spain, and can move past the governmental bickering about who is who, I have little pity for them trying to defend their name elsewhere.

Finally, a question for all of you. Summer is here in Spain. It’s hot. The weather is starting to get sticky, and we are heading out to buy our favorite warm weather sippers. Next week, we’ll share some wines you might check out in the summer heat, but first we want to hear from you! What are you drinking heading into summer? Inquiring minds want to know! Last night we picked up a bottle of Gorka Izagirre 2010, a Chacolí wine from Basque country. Hands down a contender for summer sipper of the year. But truth is we have a lot of summer left to go!

Cheers,

Ryan Opaz

Wine Blog Wednesday #70 Wrap-Up: Reaching Out of Your Comfort Zone with Spanish Wines

Gabriella Opaz — Mon, 21 Feb 2011 14:00:52 +0000

Por fin! With a considerable amount of hours logged, searching for those few eluding posts, we have finally completed the wrap-up post for Wine Blog Wednesday #70 - a truly successful event! We gave you the daunting task of stepping out of your comfort zone to find a Spanish grape, wine style or region that you weren’t familiar with. Instead of reaching for that traditional Friday night bottle of Rias Biaxes, we prodded you to give DO Terra Alta a whirl. If you’re a Garnacha fanatic, we urged you to pick up a wine made from Mazuelo instead. Or if you have absolutely detested Sherry in the past, having tried it only once in your life with poor results, we begged on hands and knees to seek out a fresh bottle of Amontillado, pushing your tastebuds for something new and exciting. And we’re eager, nay…exuberant! to say that just about everyone one took our challenge to heart.

What were the results?! First and foremost, we had nine countries participate in this month’s Wine Blog Wednesday, including countries such as Finland, Holland, South Africa and Canada! We love international banter, and to have so many people keen to join in the event was truly spectacular! Additionally, many of you provided us with comprehensive and educational information on your highlighted grape, style or region, as opposed to a straightforward tasting note. This may seem trivial, but for us, it indicates both curiosity and passion, two traits we admire here at Catavino. Finally, some of you stumbled across wines that even we were a little astounded by! Some of these include the 2006 Coto de Gomariz’s VX Cuvée Caco, a blend made with Carabuñeira; as well as the Salvador Poveda’s Fondillón Gran Reserva 1970 from DO Alicante. Granted, Mariëlla Beukers bought the wine when visiting Barcelona in 2008, but the fact that she broke open this little piece of heaven for Wine Blog Wednesday was not only completely unexpected, but totally appreciated!

WBW Spanish Wine Map

Much like our wrap up post for WBW #38 on Portuguese Table Wines, way back in 2007, we took the weekend to compile a comprehensive map of every wine submitted. Now, we don’t expect that every WBW will receive the same treatment, but we at Catavino specialize in Spanish wines, and therefore, want to offer you the very best visual to encompass the wines and flavors across Spain. However, on this occasion, we chose to highlight every Spanish wine by style including: white, red, fortified, cava and sherry. Check out our WBW Spanish Map key below.

What’s the point of this map? Simply put, it’s a way for us to having a better understanding as to where your wines were produced, and how wines can vary drastically depending on the climate, soil, etc. For example, Garnacha tastes wildly different if made in Rioja or Priorat. Therefore, this map allows you garner a better understanding of where, and why, flavors change. Additionally, rather than isolate someone’s review without context, you have the ability to click on a pin and see who wrote about what wines. And because we want to encourage you to click on the author’s name to read their entire article, or see their video, only a small synopsis is provided. A teaser if you will.

Please note that whenever possible, we’ve tried to use the winery’s address to position the pin on the map. But, there were many instances that an exact address was neither provided on the bottle, nor on the website, forcing us to place the pin in the general wine producing area. (Note to wineries: Update your information online!)

Finally, if you look below the map, we’ve also listed every submission with the name of: the author, the country, where the submission originated, the wine and the region. Again, simply click on the wine and you’ll go directly to the author’s site.

View Wine Blog Wednesday #70 – Spanish Wines: Reaching Out of Your Comfort Zone in a larger map

Submissions Based on Spanish Wine Style

SPANISH RED WINES

Catavino (Spain) - 2008 Manzuel0 de la Quinta de la Cruz, DOCq Rioja
Vino Tinto (Sweden) - Parcelas de Graciano 2006 Colección Vivanco, DOCq Rioja
Vino Tinto (Sweden) - Parcelas de Mazuelo 2008 Colección Vivanco, DOCq Rioja
The Red White Boston (USA) - 2007 Compañia de Vinos Telmo Rodriguez LZ, DOCq Rioja
The Wine Monologues (USA) - 2005 Alquezar Moristel, DO Somontano
Sonia Andresson-Nolasco (USA) – 2009 Pirineos Mesache, DO Somontano
Rick Fisher (USA) – 2006 Pirineos Parraleta, DO Somontano
Miss in Wine (South Africa) - 2008 Petalos, DO Bierzo
Sip, Swirl, Snark (USA) - 2003 Ribas del Cúa Mencia, DO Bierzo
Spwein (Spain) - 2008 Petalos, DO Bierzo
A Glass Afterwork (USA) – 2005 Mencía Xestal, DO Bierzo
The Cork Chronicles (USA) - 2007 Abadia Retuerta, Special Selection, VT Castilla y Leon
2001 Bottles (Canada) – 2005 Bodegas Abadia Retuerta Rivola, VT Castilla y Leon
Bibendum (UK) - Summa Varietalis 2005, Castilla La Mancha
Virginia’s Long Island (USA) - 2009 Venta Morales Tempranillo, Castille La Mancha
Wine Predator (USA) - 2009 Vina Borgia, DO Campo de Borja
Wine Predator (USA) - 2008 Tres Picos Borsao, DO Campo de Borja
Grapefan (UK) - 2007 Bodegas Epifanio Rivera Erial Tradicion Familia, DO Ribera del Duero
A Good Time with Wine (USA) – 2004 Museum Real Reserva, DO Ribera del Duero
Virginia’s Long Island (USA) - 2009 Tarima Monastrell Red, DO Jumilla
Drink What You Like (USA) – 2007 Nudo Petit Verdot Private Collection, DO Jumilla
Spittoon (UK) - 2008 Juan Gil Monastrell, DO Jumilla
1 Wine Dude Review (USA) - 2009 Bodegas San Martin Ilagares Tinto, DO Navarra
1 Wine Dude Review (USA) - 2006 Ochoa Tempranillo Crianza, DO Navarra
Grapes of Sloth (Ireland) – B2008 Beryna, DO Alicante
Pantagruelic (Portugal) – Bodegas y Vinedos Maurodos Prima 2008, DO Toro
Vinos Ambiz (Spain) – Pinto, Vino de la Mesa
Arnold Waldstein (USA) – Ponce ’09 Manchuela Buena Pinta
Family, Love Wine (USA) – 2009 Camino de Navaherreros Garnacha, DO Vinos de Madrid
PR Grisley (USA) – 2006 Coto de Gomariz’s VX Cuvée Caco, DO Ribeiro
The Passionate Foodie (USA) – 2007 Bodegas Avanthia Mencia, DO Valdeorras
Twenty Months (USA) - 2009 D. Ventura’s Viña do Burato, DO Ribeira Sacra
Teach Us Wine (USA) – Sol de España
Dominique Roujou (Spain) – 2007 Marque de Valdueza, Vino de la Tierra Extremadura
Spittoon (UK) - 2008 Cien Y Pico, Doble Pasta, DO Mancheula

SPANISH WHITE WINES

Julian S. Talaveron (Spain) – 2009 Inspiracion Valdemar Tempranillo Blanco, Rioja DOCq
Luscious Lushes (USA) - Castillo de Maetierra Guerrilla Whites, DOCq Rioja
Virginia’s Long Island (USA) - 2009 Shaya Verdejo Old Vines White Wine, DOCq Rioja
The Wine Case (Canada) - 2009 Ad Libitum, DOCq La Rioja
Grapes of Sloth (Ireland) – 2009 Picarana, Vinos de Madrid
Mi Vida es un Blog (Spain)- 2009 Picarana, Vinos de Madrid
Sip, Swirl, Snark (USA) – 2008 Bodegas Fillaboa Albariño, DO Rias Biaxes
Undertaking Wine (USA) – 2009 2009 Vionta Albariño, Do Rias Biaxes
Kulinarischer Salon (Austria)- 2007 Dominio do Bibei Lapola, DO Ribeira Sacra
Cheap Wine Ratings (USA) – Tapeña Verdejo, Tierra de Castilla
Ruck & Vine (Ireland) – 2009 Mara Martin Godello, DO Monterrei
Grapefan (UK) – 2009 Navazos Niepoort, Vino de la Mesa Andalucia
Catavino (Spain) – 2008 Mas Rodo Montonega, DOCq Penedes
Spittoon (UK) – 2009 La Báscula Catalan Eagle, DO Terra Alta

SPANISH FORTIFIED / SWEET WINES

Cincinnati Wine Travels (USA) – Alvear, Pedro Ximenez Solera 1927, DO Montilla Moriles
2001 Bottles (Canada) – Alvear Pedro Ximenez Solera 1907, D.O. Montilla Moriles
Wijnkronieken (Holland) – Salvador Poveda Fondillón Gran Reserva 1970, DO Alicante

SPANISH SPARKLING WINES, CAVA

2001 Bottles (Canada) – 2006 Marques de Gelida Brut Exclusive Reserva, DO Cava
Wine Predator (USA) – NV Albero Cava Brut, DO Cava
Catavino (Spain) – 2001 Manuel Raventos Gran Reserva Personal, DO Cava
Catavino (Spain) – 2005 Segura Viudas Torre Galimany Gran Reserva, DO Cava

SPANISH SHERRY WINES

Aleksi Mehtonen (Finland) – Marques del Real Tesoro Amontillado Medium
Aleksi Mehtonen (Finland) – La Guita Manzanilla
Delong Wine (UK) – Tio Pepe Fino Sherry
New York Cork Report (USA) – Dios Baco Oloroso Jerez 30 Years Old Baco Imperial
A Good Time with Wine (USA) – Osborne Pedro Ximenez
Winecast (USA) – Emilio Lustau, Sherry Dry Amontillado, “Los Arcos” Solera Reserva NV

Statistics

Bloggers Participated = 45
Non-Bloggers Participated = 1
Wines Tasted = 62
Participating Countries = 11 (Ireland, USA, UK, Spain, Portugal, Holland, Austria, Finland, Sweden, South Africa, Canada)

Summary

Big hats off to Lenn Thompson for not only getting the Wine Blog Wednesday ball rolling again, but also providing us the enormous pleasure of hosting it! Whether we received a short tweet, or a lengthy novel, we love seeing people explore new Iberian wines! Thanks to everyone who participated and if we missed you, never hesitate to send us a note. We’ll happily add your submission to the list!

Gabriella Opaz

Sherry by Another Name: Exploring Sherry Styled Wines from California and Australia

Ryan Opaz — Wed, 03 Nov 2010 12:01:37 +0000

Sherry, as most of you know, is made in Jerez, Spain, and is a style of wine that is singular in that it is crafted in a region where the local climate helps to cultivate a yeast called Flor. For those that do not know the story of Flor, please check out our Sherry 101 article before your read on.

When I first started to explore Sherry, I was lectured that Jerez was the only place in the world where Flor could thrive. Their logic made sense at the time since didn’t know anyone outside in Spain making Sherry style wines. However, many years later, I learned that flor can be cultivated quite happily outside the Sherry triangle, and consequently, “sherry-esque” wines can be crafted in several parts of the world, but this presents a problem.

Sherry is a protected name, like Champagne, Cava, Port, Roquefort and many others. Therefore, you can’t call something “Sherry” unless it comes from a specific location in the south of Spain. There is a good reason for this, as it helps to protect not only the culture that originally crafted the style, but also the brand itself. However, this was not always the case. While I was in college, I thought Burgundy meant, “A big bottle of cheap booze to woo women with”. Little did I realize that it meant something quite different. But thanks to the efforts of the Center for Wine Origins, it is slowing becoming illegal to adopt a historic name for your local wine. Therefore, in California, you are slowly finding wines that were previously named “Port” or “Burgundy” taking new names like: “Big jug of juice for your Friday pizza night wine”, which I think we would all agree makes more sense. You can make any style of wine you choose using any technique you want; and as a result, we now have “Sherry-esque” and “Port styled” wines with names as witty as Andrew Quady’s Starboard a “Port-styled” wine.

Today, I want to present a few wines that I tasted over the summer that fall into the sherry style that use the technique of fractional blending called, the Solera system, as well as flor in the aging process (for some of the wines).

Andrew Quady a wine maker in California who crafts, what I consider to be, one of the finest Vermouths in the world. He is also the creator of a wine called Palomino Fino, made from 100% Palomino fino grapes and aged in casks in California with an innoculated flor yeast called “Submerged Flor” from Red Star. When I asked about how it works, Andrew sent a short reply:

“We have had difficulty getting it to grow. We have used inoculated from dried commercial flor yeast and from a bottle brought over from Jerez. We haven’t tried natural flor yet. It doesn’t seem to get as thick here. “

So what does it taste like? It’s a strange “sherry style” that comes off as a blend of various styles. My note on Adegga follows from when we tried it this past summer:

Palomino Fino
Note: Very hazelnutty nose! Light honey and cream notes show an oxidative character. In the mouth this is an “unctuous fino” with a creamy palate and salty earth finish. The after taste is of baked citrus and leaves your palate cleanly. Really a complex and strange wine, that falls between so many worlds, fino, amontillado, and maybe a rancio from the Emporda. The nose opens to show more dusty bookshelf notes, honeyed hazelnut (kinda freaky how much it smells like hazelnuts!). Very interesting wine. Worth checking out if your in the mood for something way in the “geek realm”.

Personally, I really like the wine; and while it is not what you will find in Jerez, it is a wine that is very much worth checking out, and I would even argue a perfect wine for BBQ, as it has a rich texture that might help cut through heavier foods.

The other wine(s) I want to mention are on the opposite side of the globe, down in Aussie land, by the name of Seppeltsfield. We first met the owner Nathan Waks, and his contingent, at WineFuture last year where, after a long night of partying, he pulled out the 1909 Para Vintage Tawny. Poured in a thimble sized glass due to the richness of the wine, they said that the wine if poured into a standard glass would never reach the rim instead coating the entire glass, a shame really as the wine is one of the most vibrant and delicious things I’ve ever put in my mouth. If you want a great description check out the Wine Detective’s notes on it. Oh and drinking it from the thimble was the right call, down to the point where I asked my hosts if it was wrong to lick the glass, to which they replied “of course not”, thankfully too, as I still dream of this sweet nectar.

But before I get too off base I need to mention their “sherry-esque” wines:

Clara blanca Palomino Aged Dry – Amontillado DP116
Note: Honeyed toffee nose with freshly stained wood and an amazing roundness. Wow, hard to pull the glass away from the nose! In the mouth this is a full wine with some light residual sweetness that is haunting as it seems to fade away on the finish to a dry breath of Madeira laced air. Wow, this is something. Unctuous and a refreshing with a headiness of flavors that might take days to grasp. Caramel-ly with a woodiness and lovely baked sugar, and a salty taffy quality that is seriously making my mind bend. This is a wine that is fun to drink, and sip, and drink…and linger over…all night long.

Vera Viola Rare Rich – Oloroso DP38
Note: Very interesting nose on this wine, while the name says “viola” and I feel that it might be influencing my perception I distinctly detect a fresh, delicate violet note somewhere in there. Definitely wood varnish and carmel-ly dark flavors mingling in the background, conspiring to flavor. In the mouth WOW, not what I expected with berry notes that seem framed by dark wood and maple touches. The berries dance in and out of a lush acidity that is at one point slightly sweet and the next bone dry. Nutty richness sits on the palate at the finish where I debate how quickly politeness is thrown to the wayside as I quickly take another sip. Do you like Port? Do you like Sherry? Do you like Madeira? Who cares, really, this is just darn yummy.

Vera Viola Rare Rich – Oloroso DP38
Note: Very interesting nose on this wine, while the name says “viola” and I feel that it might be influencing my perception I distinctly detect a fresh, delicate violet note somewhere in there. Definitely wood varnish and carmel-ly dark flavors mingling in the background, conspiring to flavor. In the mouth WOW, not what I expected with berry notes that seem framed by dark wood and maple touches. The berries dance in and out of a lush acidity that is at one point slightly sweet and the next bone dry. Nutty richness sits on the palate at the finish where I debate how quickly politeness is thrown to the wayside as I quickly take another sip. Do you like Port? Do you like Sherry? Do you like Madeira? Who cares, really, this is just darn yummy.

These wines are truly wonderful and in no way to be mistaken with the sherry we love here in Spain other than sharing a wine making process! But what do you call these great wines? They deserve their own name, and while I’m not aware of these wines being made by others, they are far and away amazing treats that deserve their own status, if not category. Yet, we don’t have a word for these wines like we do for say Champagne or Cava like wines, where the word “sparkling” can easily sum up their style. These wines are fortified, but when lumped in with other fortified wines, they do not fully explain the unique characteristics that fractional blending, and at times, Flor can have on the wines.

The Seppeltsfield wines are not available in either Europe, or the USA (from what I can tell), though someone please prove me wrong. These bottles were sent by Nathan for us to taste, and I’m glad he did! They alone merit a trip down under to experience them again. And while I do not support the act of adopting historic names for new drinks, I do heartily encourage the efforts to adopt the wine making and applying it to your local terroir and grape varieties.

Please let us know if you’ve had any fun wines in the sherry style from other parts of the world!

Cheers,

Ryan Opaz

A Gastronomic Tour of Spain: Summary of La Vuelta a España

Gabriella Opaz — Fri, 24 Sep 2010 18:24:08 +0000

This is the very last, and very delayed, installment of La Vuelta a España. We apologize for the rather large gap between the end of the La Vuelta and our final post, but life has taken the upper hand, as it is prone to do.

But before we dive into the exciting details of who won this exciting race, let’s review where they’ve been and what you should have savored along the way. If you want a more detailed explanation of the gastronomy within each stage, feel free to click on the hyperlink provided.

We began the first 4 stages of the race in the south of Spain, where the riders powered through the intense heat and radiating sun to enjoy such delicacies as cool and crisp Fino Sherry, nutty and seductive Oloroso Sherry or sweet and earthy Pedro Ximenez.

Come stages 5 through 9, we moved into the southwest portion of Spain, famous for its expansive orchards, dense vegetable patches and diverse vineyards. This is the land of Garnacha Tintorera, the only grape with a dark, inky purple pulp; Bobal, renowned for its high acidity and intense tannins; as well as Monastrell and Tempranillo.

At stages 10 through 12 our fearless cyclists looped their way north, along the coast, and through the Penedes, Pla de Bages, Costers del Segre and Cava country, where they sipped upon bubbly sparkling wines traditionally made with Xarel.lo, Parallada and Macabeo. They might also grow wild with excitement as they encountered aged whites made with Xarel.lo or Garnacha Blanca, not to mention a girth of vibrant reds including: Garnacha, Carignan, Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah, Sumoll and Marselant.

Upon leaving Catalunya, the cyclists sped into Rioja and Txakoli during stages 13-14, two wine regions in the north of Spain that couldn’t be more distinct in their offerings. Where Rioja offers diverse examples of the national grape, Tempranillo, Txakoli provides you with its refreshing, effervescent white wines primarily made with Hondarribi Zuria.

At stages 15 and 16, the cyclists entered a vinous void in Spain, where apple cider, sidra, is the main attraction. Upon a hard day’s ride, we can only hope the cyclists savored Cabrales, a pungent blue cheese, with roast chicken, chorizo and plenty of sidra!

Stages 17 and 18 were hosted by Castilla y Leon, an enormous tract of land that boasts of both phenomenal red and white wines. From the Tinto Fino (Tempranillo) in Ribera del Duero, showing a bit more acidity and mulberry fruit than its Riojan brethren, to bold and expressive white wines made with Verdejo, Malvasia and Godello near Zamora, Castilla y Leon can temper and entice even the most picky palate. We can only hope that the cyclists paired their vinous explorations with the very famous and traditional Cochinillo Asado (baby suckling pig), an incredible dish not to be experienced by the weak hearted.

And finally, we come to stages 19-21 where the cyclists sped through Madrid and Mentrida. D.O. Madrid is home to more than 45 producers and 8,000 hectares of vines. There are approximately 2500 growers in the area which are divided into 3 sub zones. The largest is Arganda, representing 50% of the vines within the D.O. and where Tempranillo and Malvar, a white grape variety, take center stage. Garnacha dominates both the Navalcarnero and San Martin subzones (lucky for us that it’s Garnacha Day), but the latter has the added benefit of Albillo, a lovely white grape that can make really beautiful wines!

We chose not to dive into these regions as the city itself is worthy of exploring any and all wines in Spain. With amazing bars on every corner, and fabulous locations to both buy and learn about Spanish wine, we’d prefer that you check out our Map of Spain to give you a wealth of suggestions for the next time you visit Madrid!

We hope you enjoyed our gastronomic tour of Spain and will leave you with the final installment from our dear friend Bill Bennett! (top 3 photos by Ryan Opaz)

Stages 19, 20 & 21 of the La Vuelta a Espana

Going into the final three days of racing, 38 seconds is all that separates Vincenzo Nibali (Liquigas) and Ezequiel Mosquera (Xacobeo Galicia). Nibali, who finished on the podium in this year’s Giro d’Italia, has been riding very consistently throughout the Vuelta, but lost time on the Cotobello climb of Stage 16. Mosquera is a 34 year old journeyman who has experienced limited success in his career. As a climbing specialist, he has one opportunity on Saturday’s final mountain stage. To say it’s an upset in the making would be an understatement.

One can only wonder how the race would have shaped up if Igor Anton hadn’t crashed out of the race. His misfortune was Nibali’s gain, as he donned Red for the first time as a result of the crash. It should be an exciting finish to a well contested bike race.

Stage 19: : Piedrahita → Toledo
Date: Friday, September 17
Distance: 231 km

Toledo, the stage 19 finish, is another town along this year’s special route which has hosted the Vuelta many times in the past.
After descending the central plateau to the plains, the peloton will continue a lumpy route south, past Madrid to the east and on to Toledo where they’ll do one lap of the city just like 2008. In the final kilometer, there is a 10% hill for 500m before a 500m flat finish.

This stage is well suited to a rider like Philippe Gilbert, the stage 3 winner this year. Gilbert will know this finish well since he placed second behind world champ Paulo Bettini in 2008. Don’t count Mark Cavendish. The guy knows how to win and seems to win stages in bunches. This is the longest stage of this year’s race and it takes place near the end of three weeks of racing. There is a cat 2 climb just 6 km from the start in Piedrahita where a break will get away. So if a sprinter wants to win in Toledo this year, he’ll probably have to get in the main break or his team will need to chase down all of the breaks.

Stage 20: San Martín de Valdeiglesias → Bola del Mundo
Date: Saturday, September 18
Distance: 169 km

This is the stage that will determine the winner of this year’s Vuelta. It’s going to come down to whether or not Nibali and his Liquigas teammates can deliver him to the top of the summit finish without surrendering the lead to a determined Spaniard, Ezequiel Mosquera (Xacobeo Galicia), who will be riding with the hopes of an entire nation buoying his spirit as he climbs the Bola del Mundo. The final three kilometers up Bola del Mundo are extremely steep, with ramps as steep as 20 percent. Road
conditions are equally horrible, with just a narrow strip of concrete up the side of a mountain ridge. While the players may not be those expected to contend for this year’s Jersey Rojo, there is no lack of excitement going into this stage. It’s a classic example of the underdog vs the established star. It is the beauty of bike racing because the road doesn’t lie. The best man will prevail.

Stage 21: San Sebastián de los Reyes → Madrid
Date: Sunday, September 19
Distance: 100 km

The last stage on Sunday is largely ceremonial for the overall winner, although the sprinters do make a go for it to make up points. Mark Cavendish looks to have the Point Classification wrapped up with a 32 point lead after 18 stages. David Moncoutie leads the King of the Mountain Classification by 10 points over Serafin Martinez and Team Katusha currently sits 20 seconds in front of Caisse d’Eparne. That is a race within the race that could change by Sunday.

As to the winner of the 2010 La Vuelta? Whoop it up for Vincenzo Nibali of Italy!

Cheers,

Gabriella Opaz

New Correspondent Writer for Catavino: Oliver Styles

Oliver Styles — Sun, 09 May 2010 17:24:17 +0000

Editor’s Note: We have a new and very exciting correspondent writer to the Catavino crew, Oliver Styles! Oliver will be providing us his palate as he tastes through various Spanish and Portuguese wines from his current home in Zamora, Spain. Here, Oliver has provided us a bit of his long and adventurous history with Spanish wine, and hope you will give him a warm and very hearty welcome.

It’s galling to think of it now, but within two months of joining UK wine magazine Decanter in 2003, I came within tasting distance of a Vega-Sicilia vertical going back to 1942. Although I was sent to a private Louis Roederer tasting instead, the tales of the ’42 were frustrating, even then, when I had little knowledge of Spanish wines.

Throughout the next six years at Decanter, most of my efforts were dedicated to news – any mention of Spain generally consisted of reporting events in Rioja or the new Freixenet advert.

Which was hardly fair, considering its scope. Indeed, it probably wasn’t until I mistook a Rioja Gran Reserva for a decent Bordeaux at a blind wine tasting that I began to really interest myself in Spanish wines.

These included Sherry – that dying breed. I visited Jerez on a press trip organised by Harveys several years ago. It was a wonderful experience and my resulting blog praised the company’s serious Finos and Olorosos but slammed Harvey’s Bristol Cream (which is to Sherry what Pringles are to potato crisps). Needless to say, the blog did not go down well with Harveys or their PR company. But it merely reinforced the issues that pitch ‘individual’ wines against ‘commercial’ ones.

After six years at a wine magazine you can acquire a lot. But I was still learning the craft. Indeed, wines like those from Toro and Jumilla were appalling to me and my more restrained palate. But by the time I was visiting Spain proper, it became obvious these wines were brilliant with the regional food.

And then I decided to move to Spain. The decision wasn’t overly tough – I’d thought about making wine and setting out alone ever since meeting and interviewing Didier Dagueneau in 2007. Then, two years later, I got the opportunity to do so.
London to Villanueva de Campeán is quite a change.

Firstly, I now have access to pretty much every single bottle of Spanish wine I could wish for (and the multitude of styles is quite astounding – from the dry, acidic white Txacoli of the north, to the gloopy, sugar-thick PX sweet wines of the south).

Secondly I now get to try ‘real’ wines, namely the stuff the locals make for themselves. You wouldn’t necessarily think of co-fermenting Tempranillo with Malvasia but it produces something like a sweeter, fruitier, less-alcohol, less-tannic Toro.

Then there’s Villanueva itself. If the village ever had need to produce a brochure, it would probably run like this:

“Hidden from the Zamora – Salamanca motorway by a long ridge that runs north-south, the sleepy village of Villanueva de Campeán (pop. 200 – on a good day) looks out towards the oak forests of Sayago that lead up to the Portuguese border. Although surrounded by ungrafted vineyards, the village’s only tourism comes by means of its position on the camino to Santiago.

Villanueva sits in the Tierra del Vino de Zamora appellation and while there is only one bar and two pilgrim hostels, there are no less than three wineries.

I worked the 2009 vintage at the new winery in town: Bodegas Triton, making Mencia, Tempranillo and the autochthonous Prieto Picudo grape (which has the potential to be greater than the ubiquitous Tempranillo).

In my spare time (which basically means weekends before the red harvest kicks off), I make my own white Verdejo – a wine that will hopefully make it onto the shelves in the next few years (if I can ever master reductive handling and natural ferments on a tiny scale).

Then, I aim to become the first renowned producer of linear Verdejo. That’s if I don’t master a ‘rancio’ Malvasia first!

Cheers,

Oliver Styles

Part 2: Classical Music and Iberian Wine Pairings for Chamber Music

Burt Frink — Tue, 09 Feb 2010 10:55:30 +0000

Editor’s note: This article is part of an ongoing series covering classical music and Iberian wine pairings by Burt Frink. To understand its origins, and why Burt felt a series was required on the subject, please read his first piece.

I love the silence I share with myself and a glass of wine. Often, but certainly not always, I bring music into the experience. Invariably it is classical music. Why? It fits.

One of the most suitable choices is the genre of Chamber Music. These are small ensembles of musicians playing with each other. Think about that for a moment. If you are a working musician (God forbid! Such a life.) you spend nearly all of your time suiting your effort to the needs of a large organization; sixty, seventy, a hundred players in an ensemble. If you are part of a chamber orchestra maybe only thirty or forty others. But a chamber ensemble is you as a performer with maybe a trio, quartet or quintet or sextet. You look at each other and most importantly you hear each other.

A few weeks past I sat in on a public master class conducted by the Takacs String Quartet. The Quartet members coached five different string quartets in selections from Dvorak, Beethoven, and Brahms quartets. It was impossible not to be amused by the violist who always included in her suggestions a repositioning of the violist’s chair admonishing the player: so the audience can see your face! Violist are the target of jokes in the musical world. Search on viola jokes and you will see the enormous number of hits you receive.Â The point is not the jokes but the eye contact between players. They are accustomed to looking at each. They listen to each other and shape and share performance in a unique way. This colors their performance and is one of my sources of joy in listening to chamber ensembles.

My choices in Music and Wine Pairings featuring chamber works are:

The Brahms Sextet No.2 in G Major

This is my longest love affair with a chamber work. It’s deep mahogany tones and overwhelming emotional richness came to my life when reading the nineteen year old Francois Sagan’s novel’s Aimez-Vous Brahms and Bonjour Tristesse. As a moody adolescent I found what I needed in moody French female writer and in this wonderful moody piece of music. It remains today, decades later one of my go to compositions when I’m in a thoughtful state of mind. The wine for me is a big league California Merlot. These have developed into great buys in recent years due to becoming a déclassé item among the cognoscenti. The fruit forwardness and full mouth sweetness combined with the huge levels of alcohol make a comely companion to the melodic sensuality of this music. It is a wine I don’t care to share with others in most circumstances. Try as they may my wine geek friends look down their noses at the notion of fruit forward alcohol monsters and my friends who don’t follow wine can’t possibly appreciate or care about this kind of bottle. So it is me, the merlot and the Brahms.

Catavino’s Take: Although merlot can be found in several wines throughout Iberia, we suggest going native, and for a grape that shows moodiness, rich layers, a fruit forwardness and a big mouthful of sweetness, why not go with a the Spanish Garnacha from Calatayud which would have a rich juicy fruit quality to pair.

The Schubert Quintet in A Major

This is a light, cheerful, breezy work in contrast to the Brahms. It is jammed with terrific musical colors and so many good feelings. No need to fret with this silvery music. It is uncomplicated and animated with the good feelings of life. Light and graceful it is for very good reason that it is so popular with audiences. In a short time this chamber piece will have you humming along with the players as it is filled with memorable tunes. That may be one of the reasons why it is such a delight to open a bottle of wine and listen to it â€¦aloneâ€¦where nobody is disturbed by your humming. The wine for me is a Macon. This cousin to the White Burgundies is a simple, pleasant and affordable Chardonnay. Sometimes for me a more expensive or more serious wine is not the best mate with a musical experience.

Catavino’s Take: With a playful, animated work that brings out the child in us, we suggest an equally upbeat Spanish wine style: cava. Whenever we feel in a mood to celebrate, to hold a fiesta for our friends, or simply giggle at the world, cava has never let us down.

The Beethoven Quartet String Quartet in F Minor, op. 95 Quartetto “Seriosoâ€

The Quartet Companion as I recall claims the oft repeated notion that the Beethoven String Quartets are to chamber music what the plays of Shakespeare are to drama and the sketchbooks of Rembrandt are to art. This is an exceptional claim. Perhaps it is true. I have a comfortable acquaintance with Shakespeare but I don’t draw or paint. I have, however, spent a lifetime coming back again and again to sample from the quartets of Beethoven.

Which of the quartets do I listen to? It changes every time. Which wine do I choose? Bordeaux! Every time Bordeaux! This is an oeuvre of music big enough for this monumental wine region. The task with both the music and the wines is to comprehend all of their complexities. From the most acclaimed chateau to the most elusive garagistes the Quartets work. And if you think a great deal of a modest Bordeaux discovery you have personally made in your wine buying travels here is music with which to celebrate your ingenuity.

Catavino’s Take: If you want “Bordeaux from Iberia” then turn to Somontano, or the Emporda, where you find wines with rich complexity and often employing similar grapes and blends.

The Ravel Piano Trio in A Minor

This trio came to my personal world through the French movie Un Coeur en Hiver ( The Heart in Winter). The movie is a melancholy tale of two men in love with the same woman. They are business partners and service top echelon classical musicians with their string instrument repair service for exotic and rare violins, violas and cellos in Paris. Their business and personal relationship is upended when both fall in love with a violinist. It’s a French movie which means little action and mostly talk. The French do dialogue better than anyone and I re-watch this film at regular intervals for the cinematic style and the music score. It is elegant and complex music. The trio is filled with rich textures and wide dynamic ranges of energy from the cello, violin and piano. This is a highly technical piece that is interesting to read about, and if you are so inclined, try this link to Earsense blog.

I like this with an American Zinfandel done in the Bordeaux style; lean, mineral not at all showy on fruit. One made by serious winemakers in Northeastern California for a very limited market who appreciate this fashion. For me this music wants a subtle wine with attenuated flavors that cause you to seek and search because after all this is a Zin; or is it. This is a learned preference as the wines in this niche seem to have no relation to the candy store quality of the big lake of red zin that gets quaffed in back yards and on porches.

Catavino’s Take: We’re talking big wines here! And Douro reds from Portugal, or a Priorat from Spain, generally match the fruit and alcohol of a California Zin.

Duo Works of Music with Chamber Music

Ojos Negros I am not a fan of the duo literature. I find the violin strident and the piano simply gets in the way of the cello for my taste. But I love these two: young cellist Anja Lechner with ancient Argentine bandoneon artist Dino Saluzzi.

This is a perfect mate to the Brahms sextet. Moody mahogany. Is it classical music?

It seems this has been the argument at ECM for forty years. ECM makes little of the boundaries between genres. ECM’s motto is The Most Beautiful Sound Next to Silence. I find this accurate for my taste. If I enjoy silence with my wine why would I introduce music unless it enhances the experience? For me this duo works with any of the bottles that the wine press word merchants like to describe as brooding. It wants to be deep, inky and thoughtful. My first choice is an Amarone. This monster from North of Venice is often a sorry guest at a dinner party. It is not vaguely food friendly. And that sounds like heresy. The prevailing belief is that food and wine must be great partners. In my outlook sometimes these partners just tolerate one another.

Catavino’s Take: Clearly, Port wine has been thoughtfully considered the brooding drink with its viscous and sensual aromas, dark and inviting flavors and a lingering finish that lasts well into the moonlight hours. However, it’s Spanish fortified counterpart, Oloroso, should also be considered. This is equally a dramatic flavor deserving of a pensive musical work.

This is music that makes me look inside and I involuntarily hunch my shoulders, bend my head and listen deeply as my finger circles the rim of my drink creating a glass harmonica for my own accompaniment. I can do such things forI am aloneâ€¦..with my wine and my music.

Next time Music and Wine pairings for your private times with recordings of Vocal Recital: the sopranos, the mezzos, the tenors and baritones and the bottles they go with.

Burt Frink

(Flickr photos by Haags Uitburo)

Spanish Bullfighting: The Romance, the Drama and the Traditional Recipes

Justin Roberts — Fri, 05 Feb 2010 10:11:15 +0000

Recently, the northeastern Spanish region of Catalonia (or Catalunya) voted to ban bullfighting; which consequently, provoked me to write an article. Since moving to Spain in 2005, I have attempted to understand the “corrida de toros” – the bullfight. I have tried to learn as much as possible, both the pro and con; and yes, I confess I have attended quite a few corridas. Portugal has its own bullfighting traditions, as does France and Latin America. There is even a type of bullfight on the Zanzibari island of Pemba, off the east coast of Africa – a relic of Portuguese colonialism. However, I’m only familiar with the way it is done in Spain. (Photo by Ferminius)

In the part of Spain where I live, the “corrida” is at the centre of a complicated web; however this is definitely not true for all of Spain, as exemplified in Catalonia. The heartland of bullfighting is the warm southern region of Andalusia. Many people in my town of Jerez are connected to the bullring in some way, and it’s hard not to take an interest. Some of the grand old families who once owned sherry bodegas rear the bulls and horses used in the ring at their large estates and some even enter the ring itself. In Jerez, there was a time when you were just as likely to see the name “Domecq” on a sherry bottle as on the “cartel” - the iconic poster used to advertise a bullfight. The highlight of the year in Jerez, and many other towns and cities in Spain, is the annual “feria” – the fair. A feria without a bullfight is almost unheard of in the south. They go hand in hand. The larger towns and cities will usually have a bullfights on most afternoons of the fair, and in some cases, such as Sevilla, the bullfights are an attraction in their own right. Many places consider the bullfights an important part of their cultural activities.

There is a very obvious dark side to bullfighting – the cruelty – which some people in Spain, even in the traditional heartlands of bullfighting in the south, are very much against. In this post, I will steer clear of the rights and wrongs as much as I can, but I hope that we get an interesting discussion in the comments section below. I will try simply to describe what I have seen, learned and experienced.

Where did it all start?

Some try to link Spanish bullfighting to the Roman circus and even further back to Minoan bull-leaping but this is probably stretching it a bit. What I think it really boiled down to was battle and horses. In the not so distant past the aristocracy liked to fight and always from back of a horse. If rider and steed were not a quick and nimble combination the chances were they both died on the battlefield (Photo of Minoan Bull-leaping by Jorge-11).

To practice, Spanish nobles clubbed together (the clubs still exist today, in Seville and Ronda for example) to organise competitions amongst themselves, usually in their town’s main square. There was nothing unusual in this; competitions like these have been around for as long as people have ridden horses. It’s just that at some point bulls were thrown into the mix, which definitely was a departure. A loose, and slightly grumpy, bull was an excellent way to test horse and rider under pressure. The horse had to remain surefooted and his noble rider calm as they showed off their bravery and skill by riding circles around the bull, inches away from its horns. A safety net was provided: Servants were on standby on the sides to distract the bull when things got too hot – or went wrong. No doubt the servants waved around their hats or capes to catch the bull’s attention when necessary.

Sometime in the early 1700s King Felipe V banned nobles from fighting bulls. Apparently Felipe disapproved and thought it set a bad example to the masses. The Pope agreed. It is more likely too many of Felipe’s nobles were getting killed. It was at the time of this ban that the men on the ground started to become the main attraction. Waving around their cape developed eventually into a system of stylized passes, each with its own name, like the “veronica“; traditions were born and bullfighting gained a life of its own. In time, however fighting bulls from the back of a horse did return, which means there are two broad forms of bullfighting in Spain. The “corrida de toros“, where the bull is fought by a men on their feet and the “corrida de rejones” where it is done from a horse. The majority of bullfights, by far, are “corridas de toros”. There are also minor variations to both forms, but generally they follow the same format.

So what happens at a bullfight?

Once you have squeezed into your little spot – most rings were built when people were much smaller – the first thing you will see is the “paseillo“: The bullfighters, their teams and the officials participating parade into the ring. They enter opposite the president’s box and walk towards it, salute and then do a turn around the ring. A good picture of the paseillo can be seen here. A fight is always presided over by an important person, often the local mayor, and the president’s box is always high up and in the shade, the western side of the ring as bullfights always take place in the afternoon. The crowd at a bullfight is usually a mixed bunch, especially during the feria: rich, poor, old people, young people, locals and tourists. The more famous bullfighters have fan clubs, “peñas“, and often very loyal followers who pay big sums to follow them around the country during the season. There are also more general bullfighting clubs called, peñas taurinas, some of which are located in very unusual locations, such as London. These groups usually have season tickets at the ring, gather together in groups, are very vocal and noisy, and decorate their space by draping flags etc over the railings in their section of the ring. A bullfight crowd is normally a good-natured and nosy bunch, luke-warm wine squirted from a leather bladder is often shared with strangers and there is always barracking and conversation. There is no traditional item to drink or eat at a bullfight, but ice-cold beer is refreshing if sitting on the sunny side of the ring and almost everyone will be shelling and eating “pipas” – salt-roasted sunflower seeds. Bullfighting is full of superstition, so one thing you must never do is wear yellow in the crowd – this can only mean bad luck (Photo of torero using a capote by pasotraspaso).

Normally there are six bulls and three bullfighters involved in a corrida, but sometimes only two bullfighters “mano a mano“. The generic term for a bullfighter is a “torero” I have see “toreador” used in English, but never in Spanish – perhaps that is an old word. The toreros allowed to kill the bull are called “matador” and if they fight the bull from a horse “rejoneador“. Usually the least experienced matador or rejoneador fights the first bull, the next most experienced fights the 2nd and the most experienced challenges the 3rd bull; this sequence is repeated again for the remaining 3 bulls. In a mano a mano, it is one torero at a time until all six bulls have been fought. Each bull is always given a name, which is displayed before the fight along with the bull’s weight and the breeder’s details. Some bulls become notorious in Spain. Ask most Spaniards what the name “Avispado” means to them, and they will tell you it is the bull which killed the famous bullfighter Paquirri. Breeders can also become famous for their bulls, like the legendary “Miura” bulls, which are considered unpredictable, dangerous and difficult to fight.

A bullfight is divided up into three stages called “tercios” and a trumpet signals the beginning of each stage.The first stage is the “tercio de varas“. Vara is Spanish for lance – in this case a long wooden pole with a small blade at the business end. The bull is released from a gate opposite the president’s box. Using their large gold and magenta capes, or “capotes“, the matador and his team will get the bull to do a few passes so it can be assessed: How it charges, where it likes to hang out in the ring (it’s “querencia“) and how it lifts its head through a charge. If the bull is a complete dud, or lame, it will be sent off and another one bought in. After this, two picadors, each holding a lance, enter the ring. The picadors are mounted on sturdy little horses, which are heavily padded and blindfolded. The picadors‘ job, on the matadors instructions, is to get the lance blade into exactly the right spot in the mound of muscle at the top of the bull’s neck. This is to “correct” the way the bull holds and lifts its head and to “straighten” its charge. I’ve also been told the blood-letting involved lowers the bulls blood-pressure and stops it from having a heart-attack, but I’m not sure about that. The bull is encouraged to charge the picador’s horse and as it gets near the lance is lowered and the blade at its end goes in. The horse invariably gets shoved around quite a bit by the bull, even turned over onto the ground sometimes. There are a set number of times the bull is supposed to be lanced but if the crowd feel this is being overdone they whistle and jeer – the bull would be too weak to put on a good show and things would be too easy for the torero. Until the late 1920s the picadors’ horses were unprotected and many were gored and killed. In those days the picador was a much more important part of the bullfight, as he had to show off his skill of lancing the bull while keeping his horse out of harms way. I guess this was stopped because too many horses were being lost in the ring. In the corrida de rejones this part of the fight is modified, the rejoneador lances the bull from his horse, using a much shorter lance than the picador’s lance and wrapped around the end is a small flag, which unfurls when the bull has been stabbed (Photo of the picador doing his job by Jorge-11).

The second stage is the “tercio de banderillas“. Banderilla means little flag, and the “flag” in this case is a wooden stick, about two feet long, with a metal barb at one end. Most of the stick is decorated with coloured paper, usually significant: Red and yellow for Spain, or the local town’s colours – in Jerez that means blue and white. Sometimes the matador places the three pairs of banderillas himself but most often there will be one or more “banderilleros” to do this for him. The banderillero has to get these banderillas into the muscular area at the top of the bull’s neck. To do this properly the banderillero should put himself in danger by getting his chest to pass close to or even between the horns. There are different techniques for placing the banderillas and the crowd will be watching closely to see how this is done. Sometimes with a banderilla in each hand, other times with both in one hand. In the corrida de rejones, banderillas are placed one at at time from the horse’s back (Photo of rejoneador about to place banderilla by alfonso benayas).

The second stage ends when the trumpet sounds for the third and final stage to start. The “tercio de muerte“: The third stage of death. The matador dedicates the bull to someone, usually someone important, by throwing his cap up to them, or to the crowd in which case he places the cap in the centre of the ring. This time the matador fights the bull with a small red cape, the “muleta“, in one hand and a sword in the other. The matador works the bull trying to join passes together into sequences. The matador is studied carefully by the crowd for his technique and if they like what they see he will be encouraged with shouts of “ole”; if things are going particularly well the band will strike up a “pasodoble taurino“. The corrida de rejones equivalent is some fancy riding around the bull, the rejoneador sometimes leaning over from his horse and touching the bull’s back.

After the first pass with his muleta the matador must kill the bull within 15 minutes. At 10 minutes of working the bull the matador will be given a “reminder” by trumpet. Shortly after this the matador swaps swords, the one used to work the bull being a lighter version of the one used to kill it. The matador lines up with the bull, gets it to charge at him, and leaning into the charge he plunges the sword deep into the bull’s shoulders, the “estocada”, the kill. In a corrida de rejones, the rejoneador will usually kill the bull from his horse, but some of rejoneadores prefer to dismount and perform the estocada on their feet (Photo of a matador working with the red muleta by Arild Andersen).

A “good” kill is when the sword goes in down to the hilt, cutting the heart or aorta, in which case the bull dies quickly, usually staggering for a bit and then keeling over dead. A “bad kill is when the matador strikes bone – shoulder blade or vertebra – and the sword goes in at a bad angle or not at all. The matador must have another go, or even several tries before the the bull is killed. This can be messy and unpleasant. The crown normally show their disapproval by whistling and jeering. A “bad” kill can spoil a fight which has been perfect in every other respect. In very rare instances, when the bull is considered to have put up a particularly brave and noble fight, it is allowed to live, a “toro indultado“. In this case the matador goes through the motions of the estocada, sometimes using a banderilla as a pretend-sword and the bull is herded out the ring and gets to live out its days on a pasture somewhere contributing its brave genes to the pool. If the matador is killed by the bull, then one of the remaining matadors has to step into his shoes and finish the bull off. An unenviable task because bullfighting superstition says a matador who does this will soon be killed in the ring himself. Matadors continued to get gored don’t often die any more, mainly because of better medical care and also penicillin.

The bull is dead. Depending on how well the whole bullfight went the matador might get an award. The matador can get one ear (which is cut off and presented to him in the ring) for a good fight, two ears for a better fight and for the perfect fight the bull’s ears and tail will be presented. They used to award hooves too, but not any more. Once this is done the bull is tied up to a team of mules and dragged out of the ring (Photo of matador being gored during the tercio de muerte by Ferminius).

This is where I should say how important the crowd is in a bullfight. The president of the fight makes all the decisions, but is always influenced by the crowd. The crowd might plead for something from the president by cheering and waving something (traditionally a white kerchief but anything goes now) at the presidents box. They might plead for the first ear, and once that is granted shouting “otra…otra…otra”, plead for the next ear and possibly the tail. Equally the crowd will make their disapproval clear by loud whistling, jeering and booing. If a new bull is not “brave” enough, too tame (“manso“), the crowd will whistle and jeer until the president orders it off. The president signals by hanging different coloured cloths over his balustrade. A single green one gets a bad bull taken off; one white cloth an ear, two white cloths two ears; a red one and the bull is “indultado” and not killed.

If the matador has been awarded anything, he is allowed to do a circuit of the ring to thank the crowd. Usually people throw down flowers into the ring, or hats for him to touch and then throw back to them. I’ve even seen mobile phones thrown down. The greatest honour for a matador after a particularly good day is to be carried around the ring and out the main doors on the shoulders of others, but this is unusual.

The day after a bullfight the meat, “carne de toro bravo“, will normally be available at the local market, and sometimes at certain restaurants shortly after the fight. I have never tried it, but I’m told it has a particular taste – probably all the bitter adrenalin. One typical dish is “rabo de toro“, the bull’s tail stewed, often with wine (or Oloroso in the case of Jerez).

How does one become a matador?

Well it helps to be a man for a start. There are women matadors, but they have a pretty rum time of it. Bullfighting is very “traditional” and many supporters do not accept women, so they don’t draw the crowds. To become a bullfighter you have to join a bullfighting school, normally from a very young age. There are bullfights for novices (novilleros), called novilladas, where bulls not up to scratch for a proper corrida are fought. These novilladas can be hit or miss affairs: The bulls not great, so the performance probably lacklustre, but occasionally a better than expected bull combines with a novillero out to prove himself and the results are spectacular. If a novillero is considered good enough to become a matador (competition is fierce and most don’t make it) he will be invited to fight in a proper corrida. At current matador will sponsor the novillero and at the corrida a little ceremony of initiation takes place: The more experienced sponsor matador gives his sword and muleta to the novillero and the novillero gives his capote to the sponsor, all witnessed by a third matador. An embrace, a slap on the back and the novillero has become a matador de toros. This ceremony is called the “alternativa”, and every matador can trace back his “lineage”, through his sponsor, to his sponsor’s sponsor, going back through the ages. You might like to check out the blog The Last Arena by Alexander Fiske-Harrison, an Englishman learning to become a bullfighter (Photo of banderillas being placed by spettacolopuro).

Is bullfighting a sport?

Some say bullfighting is a sport. Others say it is an art form. In Spain the bullfights are reported in the culture section of the newspapers – next to the book reviews. However there is scoreboard in bullfighting – the “escalafon” – where the number of ears and tails a bullfighter has been awarded through the season are chalked up, so you could say it is a kind of sport. But is it art? Bullfighting certainly has aspects of an art form. The stylized passes with the cape can be expressed in a certain way, a bit like expressing something through dance. Some people find the passes beautiful to look at and ballet-like. Others simply see a self-important ponce prancing about in tight pants. The bullfight certainly carries a lot of cultural baggage, like the “pasodobles” you will hear played at bullfights. There is plainly a cross pollination between Flamenco culture and bullfighting culture. In the south of Spain especially, the connection with the spring fairs – the Ferias is obvious. When one thinks of Spanish culture, it’s hard not to include bullfighting in that mental picture (Photo of picador’s armoured leg on padded horse by ferminius).

Finally, should it stay or should it go?

Is bullfighting a part of Spanish culture which should be preserved or is it a barbaric tradition well past its sell-by date? What do you think?

Saludos

Justin Roberts

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Stage 19: : Piedrahita → Toledo Date: Friday, September 17 Distance: 231 km

Stage 20: San Martín de Valdeiglesias → Bola del Mundo Date: Saturday, September 18 Distance: 169 km

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Stage 19: : Piedrahita → Toledo
Date: Friday, September 17
Distance: 231 km

Stage 20: San Martín de Valdeiglesias → Bola del Mundo
Date: Saturday, September 18
Distance: 169 km

Stage 21: San Sebastián de los Reyes → Madrid
Date: Sunday, September 19
Distance: 100 km