The good folks at Torres have decided to wear their hearts on their sleeve by putting the score right on the front label! What, are they declaring war on shelf-talkers? If this practice becomes widespread, what will be left for uncreative retailers to use, a bunch of vapid descriptors running around in search of points?

Oh, and the scores are for previous vintages. It really answers any questions you might have when you dim the lights, sit down to dinner and wonder which scores the previous vintages of the wine received.

Message in a bottle to Spain: there is a score-free universe out there.

The new book, The Finest Wines of Rioja and Northwestern Spain, made me do just that. Up-to-date, with gorgeous photos, the book is by a trio of writers and tasters, well-known in Spain and possibly outside: Jesus Barquin, a criminology professor and sherry lover whose passion led him to co-found Equipo Navazos, a boutique producer of excellent sherries; Luis Gutierrez who recently started contributing to jancisrobinson.com; and Victor de la Serna, deputy editor of El Mundo, a leading Spanish daily, who heads El Mundo Vino.

Although the book is largely a collection of 85 producer profiles, the authors open the book with several good discussions, one about the grape varieties (they acknowledge the resurgence of indigenous varieties in the northwest) and another about traditional versus modern winemaking. This latter discussion is of most importance in Rioja where modern style has been ascendant. The authors dispute the notion that the modern style of dark, extracted, fruity wines has been a “curse” for the region and are surprisingly accommodating of it saying that the best of the moderns “will in turn become classics.” I guess it would have been a short book if they didn’t adopt a non-partisan, ecumenical stand on the modern-traditional issue. They also admit that their personal collections have many examples of traditional producers from the best vintages.

The profiles bring the producers to light in one to six pages and include traditional producers (Lopez de Heredia and La Rioja Alta), modern (Roda), mixed (Muga) and up-and-coming (Olivere Rivière). They also discuss Txakoli, Albarino and wines from Ribeira Sacra and Bierzo. Throughout the book, they highlight a top wine from a producer with a star; I agreed with enough of their starred wines that I will look for some other of their suggestions to try. They also tuck in a list of restaurants and shops with good supplies of aged Rioja (though how many will be modern?) that would be helpful to travelers to the region. In fact, with its wealth of practical information and advice, I wouldn’t head to the region without it.

Interestingly, a little of the cava remained in the bottle and I left it on the counter. A couple of days later, I poured it in a glass and was surprised it was bubbly! I tasted it and it showed no signs of deterioration.

I asked the wine’s importer, Jose Pastor, via email for his thoughts on why this bottle held up so well. He was puzzled by the persistence of the bubbles, pointing out that he likes to decant many (grower) Champagnes and that reduces the fizz. As to the lack deterioration, he said that many of the (natural) wines from his portfolio often actually show better after being open a couple of days.

As several small producers in Champagne are making their bubbly more wine-like with less fizz, perhaps giving sparkling wines some air and serving in wine glasses will be a good way to go. What have you found in your experiments in giving bubbly some air?

Citing fatigue of “living by the rule of the trade,” he told me at the recent tasting of his wines in New York that he has not journeyed to Maryland to present his portfolio to the Wine Advocate for two years. It’s also a philosophical difference over scoring.

“Wine is an agricultural thing,” he said. “You can’t score a tomato.”

He added that spending 30 or 40 seconds tasting a wine failed to capture everything about it. “You have to have a respect for the work that has been done. That’s hard to do without being there, meeting the people and seeing the land.”

So how does he sell his wine? He says that good retailers care how the wine got to the glass, not just whats in it, he says. He works with retailers such as Chambers Street Wines in NYC and Terroir in SF as well as restaurants.

“Things are really changing. People in the trade want to know more first-hand, to visit, to learn, to taste. And consumers too.” He says that it’s easier to undersand wine talk when it is coming from a fellow consumer, who describes a wine with food–or even over food, sharing the wine together. Then there are no points, no “chocolate and vanilla” descriptors.

“Back in the day, there were only two or three guys with a voice. Now there are many. It’s great for wine!”

* * *

The diversity that he celebrates in wine appreciation is also evident in his wines that represent one of the most exciting Spanish portfolios available in the US today. All the wines are from small producers with a focus on wines made with a minimal hand in the cellar. The Benaza white and red are terrific value godello and mencia, respectfully. German Gilabert makes a reasonably priced, organically grown cava from 30-year-old vines.

But perhaps the heart and soul of the portfolio is in the large selection of wines from the Canary Islands, a Spanish territory off the coast of Africa. The little-known grape varieties planted in volcanic soil on their own roots (phylloxera never swam ashore) often at 1,000 meters or more make for a distinctive grouping of wines. They aren’t blockbuster wines, but that’s not the point–they are distinctive, fresh, and often quite tasty. From Lanzarote’s black soils and distinctive, low-yielding viticulture (as we discussed once before) come the wines of Los Bermeos. From Gran Canaria come the high-altitude, peppery wines of Fronton de Oro. And you can get your Listán Negro fix from Tenerife’s Tajinaste. I look forward to trying them all with food. And, who knows, perhaps even visiting the islands one day!

Jose Pastor Selections

We started with a manzanilla pasada, Pastrana vineyard, from Hidalgo La Gitana ($28). Sherry gets a bad rap and usually conjures up images of men in tweed sport coats with elbow patches sitting in leather-bound dens. But this sherry–and other manzanillas–is a kind of transformative sherry, one that changes your opinion of a whole category of drinks. I anticipated that about half the people would like it; instead, everyone really liked it. The sea-breeze, iodine character with faint oxidation yet freshness (odd combination to fathom, but it was there) really got the evening off to a great start. Pairing with marcona almonds was ideal. As we moved to the table, we had an incredible feast of Mediterranean (mostly Turkish, actually) delights.

Next we had an invigorating white txakoli, the Gurrutxaga 2010 ($19). The faint fizz and the snap of acidity made this also unanimously praised. We followed this with Do Ferreiro, an exceptional Albarino 2009 ($23) from Rias Baixas that we have discussed previously and it too was unanimously praised. Yay, three for three so far!

Then we encountered our first disappointment of the night. I poured the good value godello from Benaza ($13) in all the glasses and as our hostess smelled it, she wondered aloud if there wasn’t something a little bit wrong with it. Alas, it was corked. Encountering a corked wine is always a disappointment but in this case it was a teachable moment! People always love to know what a corked wine is so that they can send a wine back at a restaurant with brio, panache, and certainty.

We finished off the whites with Bodegas Maranones’ Picarana blanco 2009 ($20), an Albillo from Madrid of all places. The grapes aren’t grown in the Plaza del Sol, mind you, but in the surrounding area outside the capital. This wine saw some time in large barrels and was the fullest-bodied, highest-alcohol white in our lineup.

Our oldest wine of the tasting was the La Rioja Alta 2001, Vina Ardanza Reserva Especial. This wine is not made every year and for $33 it’s a great value that the winery aged for you for a decade. The group liked the wine a lot.

We concluded with a duo of grenaches/garnachas. Returning again to the Madrid region, the Bernabeleva 2008 Navaherreros Tinto ($22), which impressed the group with its light color but full flavors. Sadly, the Buena Pinta 2009 ($22) from Manchuela was also corked. But at least someone from the group nailed it again!

Even though 25% of the wines were plagued by TCA, it was still a fun evening.

One final note: the eight wines came from six different importers, I think. There are so many importers (such as De Maison, Jose Pastor, Rare Wine Co and Louis/Dressner to name a few) bringing in fun wines from the small estates of Spain.

Search for these wines at retail

Why pay en primeur prices for young Bordeaux that won’t arrive for two years? A case against en primeur certainly comes in the form of the traditional Riojas from R. Lopez de Heredia.

One of the few remaining traditionalists, Lopez de Heredia is known for outrageously long bottle aging in their legendary cellars prior to releasing the wine. Consider that their current release rosé is from the 2000 vintage (ten years older than the current release from Provence).

I tasted through their lineup at the recent tasting of their New York distributor, David Bowler. Unfortunately it as a mere tasting, not a drinking or a lingering. But it was deliciously fun snapshot. The table is always swamped with sommeliers and wine buyers as the wines are wildly popular, so much so, some of them were saying that the estate has raised prices recently as demand exceeds supply. Still, the wines are terrific values considering that apartment-dwellers with no wine storage can pick up beautifully aged bottles with ten, twenty or forty years of age on them. If Bordeaux pre-sales irk you, then consider Rioja, where some of the producers age the wine for you! (Given the success of Lopez de Heredia, I’m surprised that Rioja producers aren’t falling over themselves to go back to these traditional methods en masse.)

The whites are slightly oxidative, which makes them more often than not, wine geeks’ wines. The 1993 reserva (about $50) is an excellent place to start with nutty aroma yet freshness on the palate. But the apogee of the white experience comes with the much older Gran Reservas and the ’73, ’70 and ’64 (all from the Tondonia vineyard) were available. As you can see in the photo above, the colors started golden and got progressively richer. Unfortunately, I don’t have detailed tasting notes but they included jottings like mmm, truffly, nutty, amazingly fresh, long finish.

On the red side, the 2002 reserva from the Bosconia vineyard has brick red at the rim, notes of maturity, and elegance. About $30 a bottle, I subsequently poured this one in my NYU class and it polled about 80% popularity (actually, I correctly remembered later that this was one of our unanimously liked wines from the other evening). But the real big guns were the older Gran Reservas. My wife and I had the 1981 Bosconia Gran Reserva at our tenth anniversary dinner, over a year ago, and I remember it well. Such elegance and refinement all for about $150 in a restaurant (although that’s now about the retail price). And it continues to show very well today.

But the trio of rarity at the stand-up tasting were some Gran Reservas from the sixties. Again, no formal tasting notes, just impressions: puffs of tobacco, a note of salinity, a touch of red berry, and nutty note of faint oxidation. They were all drinking so well, with such poise, delicacy, and complexity. I was ready to pull up a chair right there and spend the rest of the afternoon evaluating and enjoying them; tasting them made my day.

Case in point: D. Ventura’s Vina do Burato, 2008 (about $19). Weighing in at a spare 12% alcohol, this is a great summer red, perfect for chilling and serving dining outside. It’s reminiscent of a cru Beaujolais, although a tad darker in color, but with that same lively acidity, bright fruit and scoring highly on the drinkability scale.

Last year, Eric Asimov of the NYT explored the winemaking renaissance in Ribeira Sacra, the vertiginous region in northwestern Spain where this wine came from (check out the story and the gorgeous photos that make you want to book your tickets there right now). The maker of this wine is Ramón Losada, a full-time veterinarian descended from generations who have toiled the terraces in the region to make wine. He told Asimov “I make money on the wine, but not enough to live on, which gives me the freedom to make wine however I want. Some urge me to change, but I won’t.” Excellent!

Thanks to a tip from Chris Barnes at Chambers Street Wines, I tried a bottle of Godello from the region too. The Almalarga 2008 from Pena Das Donas ($22) was also low in alcohol (12.5% on the label). It was a Goldilocks wine–not too hot/cold, big/small, comfy/not comfy–it was, “just right.” The 80-year-old vines produce a wine with pleasant acidity and some stoniness of a Chablis and good richness thanks to aging on the lees. The only things holding this silky, drinkable wine back from white wine world domination are the presumably limited quantity of production and the slightly high price.

The two-day Wine Future Rioja 09 event next month will showcase a long list of wine luminaries including Jancis Robinson, Oz Clarke, Steven Spurrier, Gary Vaynerchuk, Jorge Ordonez, and Robert Parker.

The pinnacle of the wine summit will be a premium tasting with Parker (who will be meeting King Juan Carlos during his trip, Parker’s first to Spain since 1972). Limited to 450 attendees, the VIP tasting costs 217€ but can only bought in conjunction with the 783€ conference ticket. Parker and the organizer selected a lineup of 18 grenache based wines, seven from Chateauneuf-du-Pape, five from other parts of Spain, two from California (including one aptly named Pandora), and four from Australia.

Can you imagine a top-dollar tasting in Napa Valley, sponsored by the Napa Valley Vintners, that showcased the wines of the Rhone, Australia, and Argentina?

Grenache, of course, is not the top dog in Rioja, land of Tempranillo. So the local hosts and sponsors of the event took afront and after much protest that included the regional Partido Riojano joining the fray. Now, two wines from the Rioja have been added, the Marqués de Riscal de 1945 and a Contador 2007. Neither of those wines contains any grenache.

But the drama doesn’t end there. The event organizer, Pancho Campo, has resigned from his position to “focus on clearing his name” according to Decanter. In 2003, a court in Dubai found him guilty in abstentia in a dispute stemming from his time as an event organizer and promoter in Dubai. Jim Budd has a thorough round-up of the evidence; Manuel Camblor has been writing about the events recently in Spanish on his blog La Otra Botella.

The following weekend, I tried exactly that. We met up with some college friends at a Rhode Island home just a stone’s throw from the ocean. I brought several bottles of wine and threw in a bottle of Lustau fino that I had picked up at Astor Wine to try out on the guinea pigs–er, our friends. The hors d’oeuvres included some crab cakes but no marcona almonds, which are a great match.

The wine was universally panned. One guy wouldn’t even taste it saying, “It reminds me of my grandmother.” It then flooded him with memories of his grandmother and he regaled us with tales from his youth. But he still wouldn’t taste it. “Is there any Sauvignon Blanc?” someone else asked. Another guy soldiered on and almost finished his glass. Surprisingly, the crab cakes didn’t help the situation.

What do you think? Is sherry, the darling of wine writers and some sommeliers, poised to be retro chic or remain simply retro? Some of you have recommended a fino here in food pairings, such as gazpacho. Food really is key. Assuming people will even try it.

Related: Apera, topaque, vintage, lickoffable – Aussie fortifieds grasp new names

We continued the discussion of “trading down” that we started last week, this time with a focus on bubbly, as the day demanded. Since I didn’t get a chance to actually mention the Dibon cava brut reserve (about $11; find this wine) on the show, I’ll do so here: it’s some really easy drinking stuff, great for parties, or to accompany coconut fried shrimp, as I did recently (it sure beat Lipitor, which could have also worked for that dish). I brought the tasty Roederer Estate brut NV on the show as well (find this wine). And for those who really didn’t want to trade down–or simply prefer fine Champagne in the winter, as I do, economic climate be somewhat damned–I brought the Larmandier-Bernier, brut, premier cru, blanc de blancs (about $45; find this wine). It’s a fantastic example of a grower Champagne and one of my favorites.

So here’s the big mystery question: since they didn’t allow us to pour wine on the set, what bubbly was actually in our glasses at the end?

Which is the most planted red grape variety in the world? According to our speaker and grenache-o-phile, Jean-Francois Ey, it’s grenache. The grape often appeals to winegrowers because of it’s workhorse-like productivity in early years of the life of the vine. But it may appeal to consumers, particularly as the vine ages, because of wines light in tannin that can have a faint sweetness and high degree of alcohol. Even though the day of our tasting was still warm, it strikes me now as an excellent transitional red as the weather has cooled.

Our tasting consisted exclusively of old-vine grenache. “Old vine” appears to be the wine label term du jour and producers toss it around–like “reserve”–with so little regulation. Jean-Francois, 30, imports several wines from Roussillon under the Ey Vineyards label and put the question of age into perspective for Grenache. In the Mediterranean climate (with no irrigation or fertilizer), the vines take five years just to get going. Then they have 25 bountiful years with abundant yields. But as the vines age, he said, they yields become so miserly that one vine produces enough fruit for just one bottle of wine. At 30-35 years of age, a producer can make good money but after 50 years, they will make good quality he said.

Turning to the wines, we had two white grenache, one rose, several 100% red grenache and some blends, and finally a Banyuls sweet wine.

One white was fascinating. The La Conreria d’Scala Dei, Les Brugeres 2006 (find this wine, about $29) is an astonishingly aromatic yet dry white from Priorat. Given that every wine I’ve ever had from the region before has been red, this was a real find, with fruit from 104 year old vines fermented in stainless steel on the lees. Throw it in a blind tasting and completely stump even the most wine-geeky of friends.

Rolling in at $11 (find this wine), I found the red Sella & Mosca Connanau 2004 from the volcanic soils of Sardinia to be a fun, juicy, toss-it-back kind of wine. But the finish was abrupt.

Jean-Francois’ own Ey Vigne d’en Gaume 2004 from a 12-acre single vineyard in Roussillon again had that pleasant juiciness since it is both unoaked and 100% grenache. A good wine with fish or meat. (find this wine)

The real star of the tasting in my view also came from the Rousillon. In fact there were two other stand out wines from this region that used to provide wine by the train car to the Parisian working class in the 19th century. One stood out for me as the best one of the tasting; the other for the bling factor.

The Gilles Troullier, l’Esprit du Temps 2005 (find this wine; list $65) is a rich, serious wine with a significant but assiduous use of oak. Great aromas of tobacco and coffee add a multi-layered intensity to this wine made biodynamically from 100 year old vines. The label depicts a “gobelet” or “bush vine” as the Australians call it. Grenache often grows without a trellis in this form. In the winter it makes great material for photographers with old, gnarly trunks.

At $264, you’d think that the Clos des Fees was made by someone who was one of the top sommeliers, restaurant owners and journalists who had to ride a mule for 20 minutes along a dirt road from the valley floor to arrive at the vineyard where he harvested grapes from a steep, walled vineyard with 80 year old vines? Well if you thought that, you’d be wrong, since Herve Bizeul actually drives there instead of using a donkey.

The resulting wine, the Clos des Fees, la Siberie, 2004 (find this wine) almost made me reject it on principle because of the price tag. Impressive as it was, the oak was a little too intense for me pushing it too far in to the wood zone. If he’d throttle back on the oak and pave the road for greater efficiencies, maybe the resulting cost savings could bring down the price of the wine to the consumer?

The Domaine de la Janasse 2004 (find this wine) was my favorite Chateauneuf-du-Pape despite its intensity. Thick and brooding, it is drinking well now, redolent of dried herbs and meatiness. This is Grenache back in its role as a blender, and it’s leading this chorus in perfect harmony.

The Domaine de Marcoux 2004 was again a big, bold CdP (find this wine). The $150 list price nearly put me off, but it is a fun, bulked up and blended example of Grenache. Needs meat.

For as low as $24 on line, the La Soumade, fleur de confiance, (find this wine) was one of the few Rhone wines that I’ve enjoyed from the hot 2003 vintage. Although it is showing some signs of age already, it was still holding it together. However, after being open for an hour, I found it oddly out of balance, almost amarone-like. Pull the cork on this one and serve it, don’t save it. I wonder how much this would apply to Grenache wines on the whole since it’s not clear to me if bottle age would do any of these wines particular good.

From Down Under, the Yalumba “Tricentenary” 2004 from Barossa was a good value at $25 (find this wine). It had a bit more oak and intensity than the 06 Bush Vine from the same producer. But still had food friendly crossover potential for food pairings. Good luck finding it though with only 100 cases imported to the US.

Finally, we finished the lunch with the dessert wine, Ey Banyuls 2001 (find this wine), which was a great way to go out on a good note. Grenache: how sweet–and surprisingly multi-dimensional–it is.

If you’d like to see the top two consensus wines from the group and read Paul Zimmerman’s spirited tasting notes, surf on over to the Wine Media Guild site.

Related: “Green wine: the zen forest of Matassa, Roussillon”

Image: Mas de la Dame’s Grenache vineyard in Les Baux de Provence, France, on Jan. 11, 2006. Source: Palm Bay International

In a recent blind tasting of 42 Riojas, ranging in price from $10 to $300 a bottle, I tasted through a good portion of the wines from this venerable estate. This producer encapsulates the dual trend in the region, looking both forward and backward. While the I found the new style wines to be overly extracted, the old style wines displayed a beautiful touch.

First up was the white, a straight-forward, relatively high acidity blend, with notes of stone fruits. Competent, but nothing special for a list price of $15 (find this wine).

Next, the Muga rosado (wouldn’t rose do better in America if it were called rosado?), the wine I put my “white wine only” Mom onto earlier this summer. It is a very pleasant rosado, with notes of rose petals, strawberry and a citrus splash and a whiff of alcohol on the nose. Good summer fun. (find this wine)

The next wine of theirs that I tried in this blind lineup was the 2003 reserva (about $23; find this wine). The whiff of brett (think: barnyard) on the nose betrayed the old world sympathies of this wine, but on the palate, a vigorous tannin blast and somewhat muted fruit made me think it needs a year or two in the cellar to mellow–or a good decanting.

hen we hit the sweet spot, the two wines of the tasting for me. They say that tempranillo, can have a delicacy akin to pinot noir, and that was on display here with these two Prado Enea wines. The 1998 Prado Enea has beautiful aromas of sandalwood, red currant, and dark cherries. On the palate it has elegant notes of rose petals and currants, a faint minerality, mild acidity, and a long finish. The 2000 Prado Enea (find this wine) was very much in the same vein of gran reserva delicacy, but the fruit was drier and richer, thereby slightly less appealing to me. Although these wines might be able to age in your cellar for longer, why bother? Muga pre-aged these for you and they are drinking wonderfully now.

Switching to the more modern style, two vintages of Torre Muga appeared in the tasting. Dark in color, the 2003 (about $75; find this wine) has yeowza intensity, a full throttle explosion of dark fruits, vanilla oak, and alcohol on the nose with chunky tannins and faint sweetness on the palate. The 2004 (find this wine) was even more awkward, with aromas of nail polish remover intermingled with the dark fruits and vanilla of the 2003. Does it need age? Perhaps. But my general thinking about sending something into the cellar for a prolonged period is that going in, it has to be something I’d be interested in drinking if there’s even a faint hope of my wanting to drink it coming out in 10 years. Such is not the case with these two wines.

The grand hurrah of this tasting was the final flight that was a study extraction. The Muga Aro 2004 (about $200; find this wine) stopped me cold with its staggering, full-bore assault of hunks of oak tannin firing down on top of dark fruits. Really, the Aro is an incredibly odd, not integrated wine even among this flight of new style wines (by comparison, the Allende Aurus 2004, a similar price, had a certain Rhone-style elegance under its admittedly bold styling; find aurus).

So there you have it: Rioja in a nutshell, or one bodega actually. Unlike stalwarts like Lopez de Heredia who remain resolutely traditional, Muga has, over the past decade as with many other houses, grafted some modern style wines onto their existing ones. In this case, I’d go with the old.

Bodegas Muga web site (with panoramic camera in each barrel room)