Meeting an old friend for the first time – La Rioja

Maybe it's in my blood.  A few years ago a London trained chef opened a very pretentious restaurant in a seedy part of Swansea.  A few months later, in an interview with a national newspaper, he managed to alienate most of his potential clients by saying how backward Swansea people were and how little taste they had.  He illustrated this by saying that all his customers asked for Rioja; that was the only wine they knew.  I seem to remember he was heading back east down the M4 less than a year later.

Provincials we may be but we've both been enjoying Rioja wines for years; fruity, oaky, they just seem to be our kind of thing.

… and reliable; we seem to stand a good chance of getting something enjoyable even buying blind and not spending a fortune.

… and distinctive; the Rioja red wines are made from 80-90% temperanillo grapes, aged in oak.  That seems to give the wine a character that no-one outside Spain seems to imitate, perhaps because Spain does it so well and cheaply.

… and exceptional.  Some of our most memorable bottles have come from La Rioja.  The white wine we ordered by accident at the Greenhouse (a now defunct Cardiff vegetarian restaurant) that turned out to cost several times more than we expected but to be worth every penny (but was so strong we forgot to note the name).  The affordable  red that even succeeded in impressing Anne Dunstone (a Campo Viejo Gran Reserva, I think).  The red from a tiny unknown bodega that we stumbled across in a pub in Church Stretton then hunted down to a wine merchant in Nottingham (Gustales Crianza from Bodegas Navajas).  The white we thought might have been the same as the one from the Greenhouse that we failed to track down on a trip to Barcelona, only to find it in Cowbridge (Viña Tondonia).

So, something of a pilgrimage, this.  We were very keen to see the place these wines came from, find out something about how they are made, and of course taste a few.

So we've spent a few days exploring La Rioja, and here it is:



It's not big at all. From what I can make out most of the area is a wide alluvial plain between two ranges of stunning mountains.  This photo was taken from San Leon (1228m) near the Puerto de Herrera pass in the mountain range separating La Rioja from the Basque country and Vitoria / Gasteis.  It's looking south across the plain towards the mountains of southern Rioja (not very clear through the haze, but pretty substantial, you can ski there).  Logronio is off to your left, Haro to the right, Laguardia straight ahead.  This plain includes two of La Rioja's three regions; Rioja Alta and Rioja Alavesa.  The third, Rioja Baja, is out of sight to the left and known more for vegetable growing than wine.

The standard story is that Bordeaux wine makers whose vines were failing due to the Phyloxera epidemic brought their know-how to Rioja which continues to make wine using the original nineteenth century Bordeaux methods.  In fact, both areas have changed and diverged over the years.  The differences are very interesting:

• In Bordeaux everything has to be done in the Chateau; the Chateau's own grapes are crushed, fermented, pressed, matured and bottled on site.  In Rioja the bodegas seem to have much more freedom to move things around and blend wines from different areas.
• Riojan wine makers are very proud that they still mature all their wine in Bordeaux barriques. No-one seems to have told them that for the last three years Bordeaux has been allowed to use oak shavings instead of maturing in barrels.
• Different grapes of course.  Mostly Merlot in one half of Bordeaux, mostly Cabernet Sauvignon on the Medoc side of Bordeaux, mostly Temperanillo in Rioja.
• Different cultivation of the grapes.  Half the parcels of Riojan vines seem to be growing with no support at all, and are pruned back to a gnarly stump every winter.  In Bordeaux they are pruned to an elegant 'T' shape with their arms strapped to taught steel wires.
• Related to that, much more hand picking in La Rioja.  We missed the harvest but we're told half the vines are still hand picked.  Certainly a lot of the vines we've seen, unsupported and with long straggly side shoots and bushy tops, would have been torn apart if they'd been machine harvested.

It's a shame we missed the harvest, but we were busy seeing interesting things elsewhere.  The current state of the 2010 wine is that it's completed alcoholic fermentation and the bodegas are separating the wine from the solid remains of the grapes.  There are purple heaps of freshly pressed grape skins in all the yards.  Next comes several months of malo-lactic fermentation before the ageing process begins.

Still, this has been a great time of year to visit if only because of the spectacular colours of the vines in autumn. The Riojan tourist authority could really make a big deal of this if they wanted to, like New England in the fall or cherry blossom time in Hokkaido.  Every parcel of vines seems to be a different colour and every colour seems hand picked to complement its neighbour.  This photo was taken from the Dinastia Vivanco wine museum near Haro:

We found Bodegas Navajas' wines were for sale in reception at our campsite in Navarette.  We popped round the corner to the bodega and bought a few bottles.  A small place, very much a farmyard and a factory, not at all geared up for visitors (many crazed snarling Alsatians in the yard), but happy to chat.  Apparently 2010 is going to be good, maybe excellent (but I suppose he would say that.  The official Consejo Regulador de la Denominación de Origen Calificada Rioja chart of vintages shows every year since 1972 has been above average).

At the other extreme are places like Bodega Ysios, a contemporary temple to wine:



Current location: back in the excellent campsite in Navarette.

Coming soon, a post that's not about wine.  Promise!