When I lived in Madrid in the early 70s, I’d buy my wine at the little wine shop on the corner.  Since they dispensed wine from big barrels along the wall, I had to bring my own container, and found out that large Nescafe instant coffee jars were the best.  The bodega clerk would fill it up, then calculate the price according to some arcane formula that’s comprehensible only to Druids and Basque separatists.  Was the wine any good?  I have no idea.

Madrid--The Plaza de Cibeles with the central post office.

One step up from the fill-it place was the wine sold in supermarkets, which came in real bottles.  One I particularly enjoyed was called CASA (the initials stood for something) which cost about 25 cents a liter and was sealed with a little plastic button.  Then someone told me that the stuff in the bottle had never seen a grape.  It was water and alcohol with some sugar and flavoring. 

I went back to the Nescafe jar.

My, how things have changed. 

Viura vines in the north

One, the fathers and grandfathers learned winemaking from their forebears, who learned it from theirs, so what was good enough for grandpa was good enough for them.  The barrels were supposed to smell like the floor of a chicken coop.  When fermentation started, it started.  When it stopped, it stopped.  But the sons and daughters learned their winemaking techniques from the University of Bordeaux or Bologna, or UC Davis or Fresno State.  Big difference.

Very old Graciano vines

Two, every aspect of winemaking technology has come a long way in the last 25-30 years.  The kids understand it.  The dads don’t.

Three, like many other countries, the Spanish are starting to cultivate little areas well outside the traditional winegrowing regions.  These are places with
 weird names, regions I’d never heard of, and I used to live there.So, what’s on the table at the Grand Tasting, Spanish-wise?  I’ve become a big fan of the whites, such as white Rioja, made from a blend of traditional Viura and Malvasia grapes.  And some of the Albariños have recently gathered 90 points or so from some critics.  Not surprisingly, the country is also flirting with (and in some cases getting married to) the great international varietals like Cabernet Sauvignon and Syrah.  Sure, the time-honored Tempranillos and Garnachas are still the favorites, and are now being made in a much more pleasant and accessible international style, but don’t be surprised if the equivalent of Italy’s Super-Tuscan blends start to find their way to the market.

Wine cellar in Ribera del Duero

For the reds, then, we’ll be looking at some of the newer-style wines (many made from Garnacha) that are crafted in a more fruit-forward style, unlike the earthy, rustic flavors of the past.  Some will be from regions that have been making wine for millennia, such as Rioja, Ribera del Duero, Priorat, and Penedes.  But we’ll also be searching out some that have emerged from those tiny new non-traditional places, like Yecla and Monsant, a relatively recent appellation just 30 minutes outside of Barcelona. 

Madrid -- The Royal Palace

Pretty smart, those Spanish.