“Do you know the taste of Labastida?” asks Telmo Rodriguez.
The same question from a Burgundian or a Bordelais about one of their villages
would be far easier to answer. Coming from Rodriguez, as he stands amongst the
tiny, ancient plots of his Las Beatas vineyards in Rioja Alavesa, it’s
rhetorical. His point is that for a region so varied in terroir, in topography,
in soils, elevation and orientation (in their few hectares, the vineyards of
Las Beatas face half a dozen points of the compass), it’s astonishing how
unsophisticated is the popular perception of Rioja. As he puts it, with a note
of regret, “We’re happy to be generic.”
| From the garden at Remelluri |
Rodriguez, who makes wine in nine regions of Spain, from his
family estate of Remelluri in Labastida and the ancient vineyards he has
revived in the region, to Ribera del Duero, Toro, Galicia and as far south as
Malaga, is one of a disparate group of producers becoming increasingly vocal
about the limitations of the Rioja DOC. They have different ways of expressing
themselves but their point is simple: the official classification of Rioja into
the three levels of Crianza, Reserva and Gran Reserva is an instrument too
blunt to do justice to the complexity of what is popularly known as “the region
of 1000 wines”.
The man who set the whole thing off is Juan Carlos de
Lacalle of Artadi, whose Viña el Pisón has the distinction of being one of
Spain’s most expensive wines. Indeed, at a little under €500, the 2007 is one
of the world’s priciest bottles.
Early in 2015 the Rioja press reported he would be leaving the DO. From the
2014 vintage all Artadi wines will be labelled Vino de Mesa, and will not carry
the Rioja name or official back label stamp.
“We need different tools to express the thousands of
different styles of Rioja,” de Lacalle says. As an illustration of what he’s talking
about he takes me to his vineyards on the San Ginés river (a tributary of the
Ebro) outside the town of Laguardia. On the eastern bank, west facing, is La
Poza, and opposite is Valdegines, looking east. The difference is the
orientation and the depth of soil. The winemaker suggests La Poza – warmer,
with deeper soils – “is more Mediterranean.” The wines are markedly different,
the one with red fruit, the other with riper tannins and a rounder profile.
“This is the kind of terroir we want to focus on,” de Lacalle says. “Why should
we put it all in the same tank and label it Gran Reserva?”
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| "Do you know the taste of Labastida?"Telmo Rodriguez |
The singularity of Rioja’s classification goes back to the
19th century. Historically, Rioja’s bodegas have been master
blenders, sourcing grapes from all over the region, developing a distinctive
house style. The classification is geared to wine age: DO regulations state
that Crianza wines must spend a year in oak and a year in bottle, Reserva for a
year in oak and two years in bottle, Gran Reserva two years in oak and three
years in bottle. Village names are not allowed on bottles. No notice is taken
of place – for most consumers it is irrelevant that Marques de Murrieta’s
Castillo Ygay comes from one of the most famous single vineyards in Rioja Alta.
“The system implies that everything starts when the wine is in barrel or
bottle. There’s no emphasis on the vineyard,” Murrieta’s owner Vicente Cebrian
says.
The land is pushed further into the background by the fact
that only a handful of bodegas own their vineyards. Almost all (Murrieta is a
rare exception) source their wines from multiple growers, all over Rioja,
working very small plots: the average size of vineyard in Rioja Alavesa is one
third of a hectare. The concentration on blending, Rodriguez says, means that
“we forget the Grands Crus”. Terroir is lost in favour of process.
Las Beatas is a vineyard paradise, with medieval abandoned
terraces, and the remains of an 800-year-old stone press hewn into a house-sized
rock. For Rodriguez (who studies the old ways, a process he likens to pulling
on a rope to bring the past into focus) it is essential to re-discover respect
for the land. For most people, he says, Rioja is reduced to a simple duality,
traditional and modern, where “Traditional means American oak and modern means
French oak. But it’s far more complicated than that.”
| "The man who set the whole thing off..." Delacalle of Artadi |
The idea of Rioja as homogenous is quickly exploded by a
visit to the eastern tip of Rioja Baja, the biggest but least-celebrated of the
three sub-regions of this sprawling appellation.
Baja’s main town of Alfaro has the greatest vineyard acreage
of any town of Rioja. All the great producers source tonnes of grapes from
here. But despite the efforts of the bullish and charismatic Alvaro Palacios
(Decanter’s Man of the Year 2015), whose family winery, Palacios Remondo, is in
Alfaro, Baja struggles for recognition. There are many reasons for this, the
main one being the craze for Tempranillo in the 1980s, which is fine up north
but can get overripe if it’s too warm. Palacios is busily regrafting back to
Garnacha.
While to the north the valleys are narrow and steep, Baja is
more open, flatland leading to humpbacked hills. The soil is stony – in some
places it resembles Chateauneuf-du-Pape. It is Mediterranean-influenced, the warmth
(and the pudding stones) ideal for Garnacha. Palacios’ dream is to gain
recognition for the region. “I don’t want to dedicate my life to the vineyard
and in 50 years not know where the wine comes from. The worst thing that has
happened in Rioja is that when you taste Viña Real 1954, you don’t know any of
the vineyards. It wasn’t the winemaker, it was the vineyard, it was those old
vines from a special area.” Palacios was instrumental in getting village
designations recognised in Priorat, and he would like to do the same here. “We
have to have a pyramid of quality, with country wine at the bottom, then
regional, then the villages, then specific plots within the villages.”
| Las Beatas: note Roman stone press in fore, ancient terraces at back |
The “reformers” are voluble, passionate, dynamic – and
inchoate. They agree a quality level should be added to the DO, but they
haven’t put together any sort of proposal. Rodriguez believes his terroir among
the best in the world but says he doesn’t want to get bogged down in
bureaucracy; Palacios reckons change will come, “but not until my
grandchildren’s time”. Cebrian is adamant they should “reform the DO but not
break it.” Even a bodega as conservative as Marques de Caceres agrees some sort
of reform would be welcome. Cristina Forner, its president, sees no reason to
leave the DO, though she agrees a way should be found of moving “towards models
focussed on quality with future potential.” Caceres has already launched its
own “estate” range, Excellens, five wines sourced from high-altitude vineyards
with all the emphasis on vine age, reduced yields and limited production.
Others agree that the DO needs to be improved, but are
ambivalent about how it should be achieved. At Bodegas Roda, founded in 1987
and one of the most renowned of the Rioja modernists, export manager Victor Charcán says, “Yes, the classification
should include vineyards. Some sites are better than others.” But he adds, Roda
is a blending house, so village designations would be irrelevant to them. “Any
reform must be handled with great care,” he cautions.
For its part, Rioja’s regulatory body the Consejo Regulador,
while often derided for being reactionary, says it is open to suggestions. The
problem, general manager José-Luis Lapuente told me, is politics. “They’re
talking to the media but they have made no formal application to us. Certain
political issues have blocked the debate.” But reforms are being tabled, and “certainly
the name of a village on the label could add value.”
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| Artadi - Valdegines vineyard |
Bear in mind we are talking about adding value to one of the
world’s most recognised, and loved, wine brands. Rioja sells 400 million bottles
a year; eight out of ten bottles opened in Spain are from Rioja. The top bodegas
have markets in 120 countries; the UK market alone is worth £220m. With sales
like this, it’s not surprising the majority of producers don’t see any need for
change.
But it’s happening anyway. Those who know Rioja have long
understood the stylistic difference between modern, terroir-driven wines and
those that are more traditional and oak-dominant. “What’s really exciting for
Rioja lovers is that you now have the choice between traditional and modern,”
says Pierre Mansour of the Wine Society.
And people like “geekery”, as Jean-Remi Barris of the
independent importer Indigo Wines calls it. “Rioja is not seen on a par with
the best appellations because there is not enough geekery for people to sink
their teeth into.” The more information you can give a wine lover, the more
they will want. “It’s a bit like Champagne. For a long time it was very hard to
talk about terroir, but it’s all changing with grower Champagnes.”
Bureaucratic change will neither help nor hinder this thirst
for knowledge of terroir. Artadi, Palacios, Rodriguez and other pioneers will
carry on as they are, and their village lands will gradually come to the notice
of those keen to delve deeper into Rioja. More and more bodegas will follow
suit as they see the value such cuvées bring – and more and more of Rioja’s 17,000
growers, like Pedro Balda, who labels himself “viticultor” and produces 1200
bottles, will release fascinating artisanal wines.
“My family have been "cosecheros" (growers) in San
Vicente for six generations,” Balda told me in an email. “We know there are
lots of terroirs that produce a huge range of wines and qualities. So, in the
same village, there are many different things you can find.”
For Recommendations to go with this article go to to Decanter.com
This article first appeared in Decanter magazine September 2015
