Pollux Membership February 2023: Ode to Joy and The Steepest of Slopes
The convalescence of bright blue sea, harsly edged cliffs, village and vineyards in the Rias Baixas DO, Galicia, Spain.
“Ode to Joy”
Bodegas Veiga Serantes Albarino Seleccion Anada, Rias Baixas, Spain 2013
“David, this dish will be perfect with our wines! You must sell here!” “Honorio, they do buy the Serantes; that’s why I brought you here for lunch!” “Oh, perfect then! You are an angel!” I am seated at a table in a Filipino-inspired restaurant in Washington, DC’s Wharf development with the owners of our Galician producer Bodegas Veiga Serantes: Rafael Serantes of the wineries’ eponymous family, and his co-owner/General Manager Honorio Noya. Rafa’s tall stature and stately demeanor complement Honorio’s shot-from-a-cannon exuberance perfectly, as he surveys the scene with penetrating eyes while Honorio evokes YouTube clips I’ve seen of Roberto Benigni at the Oscars (“David, have you tried these! Eat more! I love that painting!”).
Honorio Noya is certainly one of the more singular people I’ve met along my journey in wine; slight in stature but gigantic in personality, Honorio exudes passion and joie de vivre and, as the face of the winery he co-owns, is a perfect ambassador of both the buoyant food and wine culture of the Galician Coast and the bodega’s ardent belief in their home grape varietal: Albarino. Steeped in a passionately traditional philosophy but yet ever-open to new flavors and methods of discovery in both wine and life, Honorio is, in short, a blast to be around. After our early-morning visits and kinetic lunch, we spend the afternoon seeing clients, each of whom is spellbound by Honorio’s vehement defense of the Albarino grape and expressions of concern/derision for what Honorio sees as the dumbing down of the varietal he and the Serantes family love so much. If not for the man himself all of this might be seen as just typical salesmanship hooey, but as I watch the faces of my clients I know that what Honorio is transferring is not talking points that a marketing team has produced in order for all of us to hit whatever sales goals we’ve assigned to the Serantes wines; rather, Honorio is conveying belief-in a manner of viticulture and winemaking, in a way of life, and in the home he is so staunchly protective of.
Veiga Serantes General Manager Honorio Noya examining his trellises.
Spain’s Atlantic coast differs from its Mediterranean side in many ways; there is a more workmanlike feel to the towns and villages that dot the edges of the fjord-like inlets that knife their way into the rocky outcroppings along the sea’s edge, creating areas where ocean and vineyard nearly touch in a manner hard to visualize. The largest city, Pontevedra, has a population of 83,000 and is antithetical in size and spirit to Catalan Spain’s colorful metropolis, Barcelona. The coastal cutaways, called Rias in Spanish, lend the Rias Baixas its name. As so often occurs in many wine regions, the subzones tell different stories, and Veiga Serantes’ location near the small town of Barrantes north and west of Pontevedra is firmly planted in the Val do Senes, the Rias Baixas appellation’s most coastal subzone and the second most northerly. Barrantes sits just south of the river Umia, whose waters flow to the sea via an eponymous cove (“Enseada”). Although the presence of the sea is always felt in ways both climactic and cultural, the vineyards of Veiga Serantes don’t scream “wild” to look upon-the Albarino grapes are trained onto trellised pergolas, a common practice in the region that both insures a grower can maximize his volume on minimal square footage and also serve to keep the grapes exposed to ocean breezes, which as one might expect does wonders to combat the pervading sea mists and accompanying high levels of moisture and mildew.
Val do Senes is arguably the most important and most qualitatively driven area of Rias Baixas, and the spiritual homeland of the Albarino grape. However, being located within the subzone is not a golden ticket for amazing wines, and a lot of this is, in Honorio and Rafa’s eyes, a matter of philosophy. Despite the historical importance of the thick-skinned, moisture-resistant Albarino, the Rias Baixas’ DO laws are the definition of vague: the area lists four “recommended” white varietals (Albarino, Loureira, Treixadura, and Caino Blanco), and Val do Senes requires a minimum of just 70% of these grapes for designating the subzone on your label. In short, you have what in Honorio’s eyes is a government-licensed undermining of Albarino’s purity and potential. As a young sommelier I was given descriptors that supposedly were typical Albarino tells: white peach, creamy textural notes from lees contact, and even tropical fruit that had many of my mentors mentioning the breakfast cereal “Fruit Loops”. The sad truth is that these notes did help me nail Albarino in blind tasting with unerring accuracy, but to hear Honorio tell it, this should not be the case-true Albarino produced without other grapes in the mix is less of this soft, youthful fruit banality and more grilled pineapple, preserved lemon, aquamarine, chalky earth that goes hand in hand with the fruit rather than being an afterthought, and structural integrity that does not require the soapy effect of excessive aging on the lees, allowing what many see as a wine that has to be consumed young to have amazing ageability. The Veiga Serantes wines bear this out, always made from 100% Albarino, and with only the top cuvee receiving any lees aging at all. Indeed, as I inform Rafa and Honorio at our visit, we sold more of their wines in the winter months than the supposedly more appropriate warm weather. Their Seleccion Anada, only made in exceptional years and intentionally matured, is the ultimate manifestation of a doctrine that Honorio readily admits to in an interview for a Spanish wine blog: “Our wines are aimed at ‘mature’ drinkers, by this I mean people that enjoy wine regularly, people who know their stuff and are looking for wines with a typicity that truly reflects the special characteristics of the region they come from.”
Veiga Serantes’ full-time vineyard management team, tending the cover crop.
As daylight wanes and with our last client visit in the books, Vin de Terra Imports president and my boss, Jonas Gustafsson, has me drive Rafa and Honorio to meet him at a fine dining restaurant in Northern Virginia for dinner. Over lavish plates in a dining room ringed with original artwork, our talk turns to creativity and the arts. Jonas lets it slip that I used to be involved in music, which triggers Honorio’s boundless curious energy: “What did you sing? What voice part? Let’s hear it!” I gently attempt to explain that my singing in the restaurant would result in us being charged double for our meals and summarily removed with no chance of readmittance in the future, but Honorio is having none of it. Trying to avoid the subject, I ask him what music he loves, and his answer is long and probably could have been summed up with just the phrase “all music”. Amidst Honorio’s examples of popular music and opera, he mentions in particular the last movement of Beethoven’s 9th “Choral” Symphony, where the composer sets Schiller’s famous “Ode to Joy” poem to one of the most recognizable melodies in Western music. Honorio says, “I don’t understand the German, but I love that piece!!” I find a translation on my phone and read it aloud, and when I get to Schiller’s pronouncement that all men are brothers, Honorio smiles and nods his head in agreement, repeating his request for me to sing, this time in the form of soccer chants. Finally, as both the late hour and multiple wines make their case and we go to leave, Honorio’s persistence wears me down, and in the traffic circle in front of the restaurant I belt out a confident version of “Ode to Joy” which thankfully only exists in memory. The look on the flabbergasted valet’s face is matched by the jubilant triumph on Honorio’s, and I leave grateful that people like him exist in my universe-people who inspire belief and produce wines to pair with that optimism. Sentimental? Sure, a little. Borne out in a glass of now decade-old Albarino? Most certainly-D.
Bodegas Veiga Serantes Albarino “Seleccion Anada”, Rias Baixas 2013
Country of Origin: Spain.
Places and People: Bodegas Veiga Serantes was founded and is still owned 5 generations later by the Serantes family (the current President is Rafael Serantes). Located near the town of Barrantes in Rias Baixas’ most coastal subzone, the Val do Senes, the estate makes only three wines: their main entry Albarino, an intentionally aged version of the same wine called “Maduro”, and the Seleccion Anada, produced from their finest grapes in only exceptional years. The production of the Anada is miniscule at 160 cases.
Soil: The soil of Val do Senes is mostly chalk-based with some alluvial deposits from the nearby Umia river.
Grape Varieties: 100% Albarino.
Winemaking: After hand-harvesting the oldest and best vines on the property, the Seleccion Anada’s chosen grapes are fermented and vinified under temperature control before a delicate 7-month aging period on the fine lees, including gentle battonage (stirring).
Aging: The Seleccion Anada is then pulled off of the lees and aged a further seven months prior to bottling; the resulting wine is then capable of long-term cellaring, an astounding feat for Albarino and the Rias Baixas region.
Flavors and Foods: The Seleccion Anada begins with an intriguing set of smells that quickly dispel the notion of decade-old Albarino being old and tired; a cornucopia of aromas such as almond paste, candied ginger and lemon, sea salt and saltwater taffy, preserved lemon, marzipan, and aquamarine all make their presence felt in a nose so complex I almost forget to take a sip. Thankfully I remember I have a job to do, because the palate is incredible: I cannot stress how amazing it is to have Albarino, of any white variety, taste this good at 10 years old. The aforementioned descriptors all have their say on the palate as well, with exotic kaffir lime giving the preserved lemon a run for its money as an additional fruit. In fact, the acidity really speaks to a more high-toned citrus taste-you will feel the invigorating pinpricks of it lace along the sides of your mouth and the tip of your tongue. On the mid-palate, the age of the wine deftly transitions the fruit profile to rounder notes of guava and passionfruit, which linger on the finish with a hint of saffron as well (I told you the wine is complex!). The Seleccion Ananda 2013 eschews any earthy reminders of its seaside location, but there is a persistent saline character that runs through the entirety of the taste experience. I would stay true to regionality in food pairings; serve the Veiga Serantes with richly-accented shellfish offerings (i.e. oysters with a granite of herbs and citrus, king crab legs, and sea urchin). If shellfish are an issue or you’re just thinking more outside the box, the combination of structural roundness and mature citrus would be an amazing accompaniment to highborn Peking cuisine.
Service and Cellar: The Veiga Serantes Seleccion Anada 2013 is ideally served at the higher end of the white wine cellar spectrum (around 50 degrees F), allowing the aromatic notes and more exotic fruits to assert themselves-too much chill is a disservice to this wine and will have you focusing on the aged notes rather than the richly layered complexity. This is a library pick that has been aged for you, so although I do believe the Anada 2013 has another 3-5 years of enjoyment remaining, I’d recommend trying it in this moment as it is truly lovely right now.
A late morning tasting, with accompaniments, among the nearly 100 year old Garnatxa (Grenache) vines of the Des Nivell vineyard, Priorat.
“The Steepest of Slopes”
Mas del Billo Priorat “Des Nivell”, Catalunya, Spain 2013
“Note to producers: please ensure all future wine tastings are conducted thusly.”-This was my wish (thankfully only spoken inside my head) upon arriving on a far-flung hillside in the eastern part of the Priorat appellation, about an hour and a half drive from Barcelona in Catalan Spain. Nearly three-quarters of the way up a slope that drops several hundred meters at an incredible 35 degree angle, Mas del Billo owner and winemaker Blai Ferrer i Just has placed a wine barrel atop our stopping point (which, I realize as I take in the precipitous natural amphitheater, is no small feat), on which sit the latest offerings from both his single vineyard, Des Nivell, and his restored estate just west of here, Mas del Billo. Alongside the barrel samples, just-bottled vintages, and glassware rests a slate board of firm cheese and a tray of charcuterie that had me salivating despite being not two hours removed from my breakfast of eggs and pan con tomate. As we embark on the journey through Blai’s lineup over slices of wild boar salami and sips of his inky, lush Priorat wines, he further explains the tenets of this rugged landscape that he has meticulously revitalized.
The amphitheater of Des Nivell, outside the village of Falset-while the surrounding area is the value driven but less prestigious Montsant DO, as you approach Des Nivell the soil and elevation change and you are allowed to bottle the wine as Priorat DOQ.
Blai grew up here in Priorat’s principal village of Gratallops, and after a lifetime in the region and years of making Priorat for a who’s who of big names (Alvaro Palacios chiefly, but also Mas Martinet and Celler Cecilio, a winery dating from the 1940s who is Blai’s principal employer, and where he vinifies and bottles his own Mas del Billo wines), he purchased Des Nivell while he was still in enology school. If images of cheap alcohol and ramen noodles pervade your memories of higher education, and you’re wondering how a young man of modest means, fresh from study at what is effectively a trade school can afford property, you need only to stand on this hillside, around 3/4 of the way up the slope where the only walking path is dug, imagining all of the ways in which you could break yourself into pieces trying to mine the riches of these vines. No one in their right mind would want to work this land, and so enter Blai, whose main enthusiasm when he’s not growing grapes is tearing through the mountains of Priorat on motocross bikes, to snap up this bargain basement fixer-upper of old Garnatxa and Garnatxa Peluda plants (a local Catalan clone of Grenache; taken from the Spanish “pelo”, meaning “hair”, the Peluda grapes have fuzzy skins and a beguilingly inky texture on the palate). Even the name Des Nivell is a reference to the vineyard’s uncommon differences in height, or “Nivell” (Catalan for “level”). An aspiring young winemaker, as Blai was when he acquired this vineyard at the tender age of 22, would have to possess unwavering passion and the resigned knowledge that tending these old vines would be a true labor of love. The steep angle of the plantings and sloped sides of the vineyard mean that any hopes of aiding your efforts with tractors or other machinery are dashed, and with the dangerously situated nature of these outcroppings of Garnatxa, you are in constant peril of injuring yourself while all alone-except, of course, for the wild boar that also lay claim to the scarce fruit on these low-yielding grape bunches, but then again their definition of “nursing you back to health” probably differs slightly from your own.
At the time of my visit, the Garnatxa vines of Des Nivell were already nearing 80 years in age. A classic style of planting in the Priorat region, Des Nivell is what is referred to as a “Coster”- a steep vineyard of untrellised, bush-style vines emerging bluntly from the uncultivated ground. The vineyard rows of a “Coster” aren’t terraced at all, so there is no barrier to the sharp plunge of the hill. At 2.3 hectares, Des Nivell is tiny, and the age of the vines means that the yields of fruit are as well: only about 300 grams of juice per plant (0.3 liters, or less than half a bottle of wine). As I’ve written about in previous months, densely concentrated fruit from low-yielding vines is one of the foremost indicators for me that a wine is going to taste amazingly, and Blai takes it from there, where his winemaking experience, practically a lifetime for someone so young, leads him to some astute choices when managing the Grenache fruit from this hot and arid region. After a long and gentle maceration to extract as much of the aforementioned nectar from these older vines as possible, Blai places the Des Nivell juice into stainless steel for about a month, allowing the lees to settle and avoiding what is even among famous producers a common fate for Priorat-oxydation, resulting in reductive, backward-tasting bitter fruit. The Des Nivell is then nurtured for another year in French barriques, but even here Blai is temperate, using large barrels with a low surface area-to-wine ratio that sustains the freshness of the viscous, dark cherry-tinged finished product.
Blai points upward to the upper third of Des Nivell; note both the precipitous slope and a fun feature of the vines in the foreground, where the leftmost grapevine has had a trunk trained into the ground and is replenishing the ailing vine next to it.
As we descend at last from the upper reaches of the slope, with the sky mercilessly blue and so bereft of clouds that it seems both infinite in space and still within arm’s reach, I find myself briefly falling into a daydream that often plagues me during wine travel: what if I just moved here? I could find something to do, surely; what discoveries, both inside and outside myself, would reveal themselves to me while working outside in this brown slate soil, living a simple, focused life?
Reality snaps angrily at me, reminding me that back home in Washington, DC it’s snowing buckets and my wife is slaving away at work whilst raising our gigantic Great Dane puppy who, it should be noted, treats snow drifts as a toddler would treat the ball pit at a Chuck E Cheese. No, I need to taste these wines and get back, ready to preach the gospel of Blai and his deeply concentrated old vines to our clients. Still, I can’t help but wonder: does my wife’s work need a Catalan office? How much does it cost to ship a Great Dane to Spain (on the plane)? And, most importantly, how I will I ever keep him upright and safe on the near-vertical bluffs of Des Nivell?-D.
Mas del Billo Red Blend “Des Nivell”, Priorat 2013
Country of Origin: Spain.
Location: Des Nivell is a “coster” (unterraced) vineyard located just outside the village of Falset in the southeast of Priorat. In this area, both Priorat and the surrounding Montsant DO (lower-lying, less slate, less expensive wines) are used. Accordingly, it is elevation and soil type rather than location that makes Des Nivell a part of the prestigious Priorat DOQ. Winemaker Blai Ferrer i Just is a lifelong resident of Priorat and purchased this 35-degree angled amphitheater of old vines right out of enology school at the age of 22. In the years following, Blai’s hard work on this dangerously steep plot has produced outstanding vintages of concentrated old vine Garnatxa.
Soil: One of the more famous “dirt to wine” relationships in the world, the soil of Priorat is a deeply porous slate that is black in some areas and brown or red in others that is known locally as “licorella”.
Grape Varieties: Although in subsequent vintages Blai has planted some Carinyena (Carignan) and Cabernet, in 2013 the Des Nivell was made solely of Garnatxa (both Negre and the local clone “Peluda”, so named for its fuzzy skins).
Winemaking: Hand harvested with extremely low yields of 0.3 liters per plant (less than half a standard wine bottle). Both the Garnatxa and Garnatxa Peluda are fermented together. Blai puts the vinified juice into stainless steel for one month, letting both the lees settle and preventing any oxygen from damaging the freshness of the fruit.
Aging: The wine is aged for 12 months in used 300-liter barrels, combining Blai’s wish to soften the finished product but not oxidize the Garnatxa.
Flavors and Foods: What a greeting from the Des Nivell 2013 promptly upon opening; the nose freely shares aromas of red and black cherries, red currants, shiro plum, mild cigar wrapper (like Connecticut), rosemary and thyme, and a hint of cedar. The palate is a treatise on the Grenache grape, with the red and black fruits coming in waves (and tasting quite fresh 10 years on); the cherry notes especially come forward and taste of the finest confit, inky and lush. Aside from fruit, Garnatxa’s trademark varietal spice (spice notes not brought on by oak barrels) brings welcome notes of vanilla and allspice powder without the dried-out tannin that accompanies those flavors when derived from oak. Wet black rock, leather, cocoa powder, a delicate floral note of hydrangea, and a hint of fresh cut hay also feature. In short, the Des Nivell is complex and visceral, with an expectedly warm finish that nevertheless avoids a feeling of outright heat. Honestly, this wine is tasting better now than when I last worked with it directly-I am sitting in my office dreaming of both smoked Texas brisket and country-style pork spareribs (no heavy saucing, just a brown-sugar based dry rub). If barbeque doesn’t excite (you’ve subscribed to the wrong wine writer), the 2013 Des Nivell would be outstanding served with boudin noir or Vietnamese grilled pork with fish sauce.
Service and Cellar: Think of the lowest temperature that you’ve served red wine at and then lower it another degree; the Des Nivell 2013 is OUTSTANDING at the lower end of red wine cellar temp (56 degrees F). The intensely viscous cherries and soft varietal-driven spice notes stand out at this temperature, rather than the alcohol that inevitably comes with a wine from an easy-ripening region such as Priorat. If you lack a wine cellar/wine cooler situation, do yourself a favor and DO NOT serve this wine at room temperature; place in the refrigerator for 30 minutes prior to enjoying. The 2013 Des Nivell is not showing much in the way of sediment and is drinking generously upon opening, but nevertheless a decant of 30 minutes would be amazing should you have the time. Cellared for you, the 2013 will show well for another 5 years but if you open one now you won’t wait that long to enjoy the remainder.