Two Little Words

This article is from the archive of The New York Sun before the launch of its new website in 2022. The Sun has neither altered nor updated such articles but will seek to correct any errors, mis-categorizations or other problems introduced during transfer.

The New York Sun

When you’re known to be a wine maven, you find that you’re also a target. There’s always some wine gunslinger out there itching to test his tasting acuity or wine esoterica against you.


But not every challenge is ill-intentioned. Often, it’s a plea for help. Not long ago an acquaintance, without meaning to be rude, said, “You know, I see your stuff in the newspaper. But honestly, I really can’t be bothered tracking down these wines you keep recommending. Don’t you have something that I can remember every time I go to a restaurant?”


“As a matter of fact, I do,” I replied. “And I can tell you in just two words: Spanish whites.”


“That’s it?” he asked skeptically.


“Yup, that’s all,” I replied breezily. “Any time you’re in a restaurant and you want a good dry white wine that won’t fry your wallet, just look for a Spanish white.”


However simplistic you may think this advice, I assure you that I meant what I said. Some of the most interesting dry white wines on the market today hail from Spain. I did not, however, tell my inquisitor that he would never have heard of the grape varieties. Spain has an impressive list of obscure white grapes such as airen, albarino, godello, loureira, macabeo, palomino, verdejo, and viura, among others.


The surprise of Spanish whites is not the obscurity of the grapes, but the goodness, cleanness and sheer savoriness of so many of them. In the space of little more than a decade, Spain has gone from issuing dull, oxidized, oaky white wines that too often tasted like wine rations for the French Foreign Legion to zingy, crisp, beautifully made whites that often see no oak whatsoever. It’s a makeover cosmetics companies can only dream about.


One other attribute works in your favor: Few Spanish whites reward aging. Youngest is best, which of course makes them ideal in restaurants, where the wines on the list are often fresher than the fish on the menu.


Although some Spanish whites surely can age, I can’t see why anybody would want to bother.


¡HOLA! HERE’S THE DEAL


MORGADIO ALBARINO “RIAS BAIXAS” 2004


What I didn’t tell my “don’t fuss me with any details” wine inquisitor was that some Spanish whites are seemingly unpronounceable. I still recall coming across a list of wines from Spain’s Galicia zone, which lies on the Atlantic Coast north of Portugal. (The famous medieval pilgrimage route called the Camino de Santiago ends in Galicia, in the town of Santiago de Compostela.)


Galician is a language frequently described as a dialect of Portuguese. The locals would beg – or rather, demand – to disagree. Whatever the linguistic truth, there’s no doubt that this isn’t the Spanish you picked up on holiday or in high school.


Take, for example, the appellation name Rias Baixas (which was created only in 1988, which shows how recent Spain’s white wine renaissance is). I sure didn’t know how to pronounce it when I first encountered the designation on a restaurant wine list. (I did what everyone does: I pointed to the list and said, “I’ll have this.”) Rias Baixas is pronounced something like “reeahs bye-shuss.”


But what’s more important is how it tastes. Composed 100% from the albarino grape variety, this 2004 dry white wine from the small producer Adegas Morgadio is memorable drinking.


Everything about Morgadio 2004 somehow seems to involve delicious lemons : The color is a brilliantly clear pale lemon; the scent is an admixture of lemons and minerals, which follows through in the taste, with an added (and lipsmacking) hint of brininess. Few wines have made me hunger more for the freshest fish and shellfish than Morgadio. This is a dry white that will have you dreaming about paella – and spurning ho-hum chardonnays asking twice the price. $20.


MARTINSANCHO 2004, BODEGAS ANGEL RODRIGUEZ


MartinSancho has become a bit of a cult item in certain more-esoteric-than-thou wine circles. The reason is that MartinSancho is both a good story and a helluva dry white wine value.


MartinSancho is made 100% from the verdejo grape variety. By the 1970s, this variety was made nearly extinct in the Rueda zone northwest of Madrid. Angel Rodriguez, however, saved the shy-bearing, thick-skinned verdejo by refusing to uproot his vineyard called MartinSancho, which dated to the 1600s.


In 1974, Mr. Rodriguez grafted 25 acres of his best vineyard to verdejo, using cuttings from his original MartinSancho vineyard, single-handedly initiating the revival of verdejo as Rueda’s signature white. (Mr. Rodriguez still keeps a tiny plot of the ancient verdejo vines as source of cuttings of undisputed varietal authenticity for nurseries.)


The 2004 MartinSancho is yet another exemplar of the Spanish white wine renaissance. It’s crisp, fruity, somewhat thick-textured, and filled with hints of peach, citrus, and floral notes with a long, lingering finish. This is an ideal white to serve with cheeses and white meats as well as the more expected fish and shellfish. At $14 a bottle, it’s a standout deal.


The New York Sun

© 2024 The New York Sun Company, LLC. All rights reserved.

Use of this site constitutes acceptance of our Terms of Use and Privacy Policy. The material on this site is protected by copyright law and may not be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, cached or otherwise used.

The New York Sun

Sign in or  Create a free account

By continuing you agree to our Privacy Policy and Terms of Use