Spanish Wine's Identity Crisis
If Spain were a human being, I would say that it's suffering from multiple personality disorder.
This is a nation that for decades held together its producers, both large and small, prestigious and bargain-basement, under overarching appellation banners. Terroir (at least in terms of a formal classification) didn't come into it – historically, the quality of wines were associated with the length of time they spent in barrel and bottle.
Debates raged – behind closed doors – as to whether the DO frameworks reflected the priorities and values of all producers. Many now claim that they've always resented being classified under one generic appellation structure. Yet they all chose to keep very quiet about it until the 21st Century.
But what would a Spaniard, returning home after 50 years on Mars, make of the increasingly schismatic state of the Spanish wine industry? The rise of private associations such as Grandes Pagos de Espana might come as a shock, and individuals such as journalist and winemaker Victor de La Serna openly criticizing the Consejo Reguladors.
"Appellation bodies in Spain (and France) defend a lowest common-denominator quality wise," exclaims de la Serna. "I co-founded Grandes Pagos for one simple reason – I felt the concept of single-estate wine was being marginalized in Spanish winemaking, and needed to be promoted and defended."
Indeed, the appearance of single-estate wines and the decision taken by leading Spanish producers to abandon their DOs would have been unthinkable decades ago. So too would rising calls for a pyramid terroir classification system in several regions. The very notion of a Burgundy or Bordeaux producer leaving their appellation behind for a IGP designation remains unthinkable in 2019. Ludicrous even. Not so in splintered Spain.
Today, the machinations of the splits and debates occurring within Spain's fizz industry are paradise for story-hungry journalists. Since Raventos i Blanc left the Cava DO in 2012, the discontent has reached boiling point, culminating in nine producers jumping ship in January 2019, selling their wares under a new designation – Corpinnat.
Still, at least producers in Penedes – the birthplace of Cava – have options. They can now potentially market a sparkling wine under the Cava brand, under the Corpinnat designation – if the group admits new members – under the DO Penedes designation and even the generic Spain-wide Vi Escumós de Qualitat certification. In addition, the authorities introduced another designation in 2013 – Clàssic Penedès – an appellation within DO Penedes. If this continues, and more follow the example laid down by Corpinnat's members, will there be any producers left in the Cava DO, one wonders?
"It does concern me that the industry is in danger of becoming too splintered," admits Corpinnat joint-president Xavier Gramona.
"We're in danger of utterly baffling consumers – how do you explain to the trade and consumers that premium Spanish fizz can potentially be made under these myriad of designations? We run the risk of alienating our audience."
But isn't this a predictable state of affairs? Surely it's very apt that Spanish viticulture increasingly shadows Spanish politics – Catalunya's independence movement is still the singular most divisive topic among Catalans in 2019.
Over the past 250 years, Spain has endured a costly civil war, the disintegration of two republics, the rise of violent anarchism in Catalunya, the formation of Basque separatist group ETA, and the installation of horrific concrete jungles along its coastline. A friend in Madrid often jokes: "Three Spaniards, four opinions." The wine industry, or at least a segment of it, has finally caught up.
"Spanish wine is reaching a maturity – producers are rebelling against the cheap image of our wines, reinforced by the big brands," says Gramona. "This is our moment – we make fabulous wines in Spain, wines worthy of a high price tag. We just needed to market ourselves in a more convincing way and redefine our destiny. This has been a long time coming."
On Gramona's latter point, I find myself in complete agreement. Never at any point in my writing career, have I been more excited by Spanish wine. Not simply because it pays my rent, via bankable stories, but because the quality and diversity of the Spanish offer is unprecedented. Moreover, the quality of "traditionally made" Rioja by firms such as CVNE and La Rioja Alta has never been higher, at least in my view. In my early 20s I recall well-made, but rather "washed-out" wines, to quote Hugh Johnson. Today I typically encounter a balance of fruit and mature aromas of tobacco and leather, that has become my great value, delicious mainstay of the weekend.
But this is the problem. Value has become a dirty word for (some) of Spain's quality-conscious firmament – distancing themselves from the value tag has become their unifying rallying cry. In due fairness, the authorities have introduced superior-quality designations such as Rioja's Viñedos Singulares and Paraje Calificado in Cava, in an attempt to appease the discontented. Unfortunately, the discontented often retort: "This doesn't go far enough."
"Paraje de Calificado had potential, but the problem is the quality pyramid structure didn't insist on a proper delimitation on what Cava made in Catalunya should be. It enabled major producers to market a €5 [$5.65] Cava, and produce a Paraje under the same overall banner, which just adds to the confusion," says Gramona. He adds, though, that rejoining Cava is not off the table in the future, if certain conditions are met.
However, one suspects that no amount of DO appeasement will stop the massive schisms developing in Rioja.
Following in the footsteps of Bodegas Artadi – which left the DO in 2015 – ABRA, the association of Rioja Alavesa producers, have renewed their petition for the creation of an entirely new appellation.
In April 2019, ABRA voted in favor of a name change to Association of Bodegas de Euskadi (ABE), while expanding its remit to all interested Basque wine producers.
If their final proposal is accepted by the EU and Spanish authorities, bottles of Viñedos de Álava will eventually hit the shelves, which ABRA hopes will sound more upmarket than straight Rioja. Naturally, adoption of the new DO would be entirely optional for winemakers in Rioja Alavesa, but the larger significance of the move cannot be underestimated. It is yet another kick in the teeth for the Rioja Consejo Regulador, and a symbol of the intense anger felt towards the major producers, who cheapen the region's image, it is often argued.
"A majority of ABRA members have now decided to officially revive the Viñedos de Alava Denominacion de Origin," said Itxaso Compañon Arrieta, winemaker at El Mozo wines in early December 2018. Appropriately, Rioja Alavesa is part of the Basque Country, a fiercely proud and independent region of Spain that would be only too happy to see a new appellation within its borders.
"This is not about Basque politics and Basque independence – this is about establishing an appellation to ensure a sustainable economic model for smaller Rioja Alavesa producers," added Compañon Arrieta, dismissing the idea that this is a politically motivated decision. Nevertheless, it is fitting that a schismatic group like ABRA would make its home in the Basque Country, birthplace of terrorist organization ETA, the ancient Basque language and the best culinary art in Spain.
Of course, the idea of in incorporating the Basque name into Alavesa's association will have probably divided local producers, even those behind the split, while others would never consider leaving the Rioja DO.
Nevertheless, many have voiced their dissatisfaction with the Viñedos Singulares designation, which has been extensively dissected by various media. Under the rules, producers who wish to make use of this single-vineyard classification would have to justify the "natural delimitation of their vineyard" and comply with strict quality-control regulations.
Yet now that the initial hype over the classification has subsided, many producers have searched for serious change and found the regulations wanting, arguing that the Viñedos Singulares initiative is a merely symbolic effort to change the way Rioja is perceived.
"I don’t think we will use the new category for the time being. Really, I think this is for new or unknown houses who feel they have little or nothing to lose,” says CVNE's CEO Victor Urrutia.
"There are some flaws in the new regulations that will be hard to compensate for," adds Cedric Nicaise, wine director at the Eleven Madison Park hotel, New York.
"For instance, it seems that Finca Valpiedra is going to apply for the single-vineyard designation, however it is roughly an 80-hectare estate. In Burgundy, most of the grand crus are under 10 hectares, with only one being bigger than the 80 hectares of Finca Valpiedra. With these scales in mind it is surely necessary to ask the question – what size is too big for a single-vineyard classification?"
But can a new breakaway appellation really hope to do any better?
"My first reaction to the announcement was either more navel gazing or more politics – either way not of any great interest to the wider consuming public, just likely to add to confusion," argues wine buyer Peter Mitchell MW. "They should concentrate on building their own individual reputations as individual producers rather than on Basque politics.
"If the word Rioja is still included in the name, then I don’t think it will make a blind bit of difference – that is the only word the overwhelming majority of consumers look for and they won't even notice if it says Alava as well. Certain producers wines are well-known and carry a premium, but that has nothing to do with which sub-zone they come from and everything to do with their long-term quality."
Mitchell underlines the point (which seems to be the general consensus I've picked up from the trade), that further segmentation/market fragmentation is a weak answer to the conundrum of how to instil a heighten sense of general prestige, and prices to match. Much of Rioja's success has arguably hinged on the widespread understanding of the Reserva/Gran Reserva hierarchy – terroir has been negated for decades. This is simply how Rioja is sold by the vast majority of wine professionals, which suggests that ABRA may be chasing yet another pipe dream.
Ultimately, though, the trade must accept that Spain's prestige-hungry winemakers are unlikely to accept such a conclusion. Spain has started down a path of no return - with schismatic forces enjoying an unprecedented slice of the limelight, their demands will only get stronger. The hold that Spain's appellation bodies had over their flock is weakening. Things will never be the same again.
No comments