I have always been amazed at how wine gets around.  In Canada we drank wines from all over the world and it seemed clear that the global marketplace was getting smaller.  Trends that we saw as winedrinkers in British Columbia appeared to be happening all over the planet.  Now I think that maybe that’s not quite the case.

Back in BC, Katie and I began to suffer from a mild case of oak overload, at least when it came to white wines.  We enjoy full-bodied whites but found that most of what was available to us - at least at a moderate price - was made in the very oak-heavy style that Californian wines have made so popular.

I can remember opening a bottle of Pinot Blanc and immediately feeling disappointed as the oak-laden bouquet hit me.  Too much of a good thing.  Since arriving in Spain, we’ve had no trouble avoiding heavily oaked whites.  In fact, we’ve started craving them again.

There are untold wonders to discover in the world of Spanish wine, but it’s often difficult to access wonders that come from outside of Spain.  Without going to a specialty shop (read potentially over-priced), it’s not likely that you are going to find many wines that aren’t Spanish.  The kind of ‘big’ white that we once found almost tediously abundant isn’t popular here - at least not at the moment.  The other day we just had to have one.

Pago de Vallegarcía

There’s a little wine shop up the street from our apartment here in Valencia that looks like it hasn’t changed in a century.  I found out the other day that it also houses a wine museum that is not open to the public; more of a private collection really.  The owner agreed to do an interview with me an show me around sometime so you’ll be hearing more about it soon.  But the other day I was just there to find an oaky white to go with our chickpea and bacon dish accompanied by fresh artichokes.  It was just what we were in the mood for.

Our local wine purveyor cum collector offered me two choices when I asked for a California-style ‘big’, oaky white.  The first was an unoaked Chardonnay (I got the impression that we weren’t on the same page there…) and the second was a Viognier that was partially barrel fermented.  I agreed without asking the price and had to quickly come to terms with either paying too much or looking cheap.  Luckily, my ego allows for that kind of humility, but in the end I spent the 14 Euros.  (A quick internet search tells me that this is on the lower end of the 14 - 16 Euro spectrum that the wine falls into.)

Before I get to the wine, I have to say that both Katie and I were taken by the label and overall presentation of the wine.  This lead us to visit the Pago de Vallegarcía website where we were struck by the obvious effort that had been put into the winery and its PR.  You can visit them (in English) here.

This is not a DO wine, but a Vino de la Tierra de Castilla (this link is in Spanish, but gives some great information: if you have questions, leave a comment and I’ll do my best to translate some facts.)  This is a wine region that has only had this status since 1999, despite the fact that Castilla La Mancha, the Spanish political region where it is located, has the largest area under vine in all of Spain.  I think we can expect some good things to come out of here in the next few years, as is evidently already happening.

This winery is clearly dedicated to making excellent wines and to promoting that quality with what we perceive as a ‘new world’ marketing approach.  They have very cleverly, at least to my mind, included the word pago in their name.  This word, coming from the Latin for (roughly) ‘country district’, is the term used to distinguish the 6 (yes, only 6!) individually recognized estates in Spain to bear the the DO de Pago designation.  If they aren’t sued somewhere along the way, that’s a pretty smart move.

The Wine

I’m no professional taster, so I’ll point you in the direction of some ‘official’ tasting notes: on adegga (do I know this guy from somewhere?).  Let’s just say that it fit the bill that night.  It was less crass and brash than the big oakiness of the Californian Chardonnays that we grew tired of - but ended up craving.  The acidity was in balance with the mild tannins from the oak and left room for the subtler flavours of the wine to emerge on the palate; stone fruit and white blossoms, I’d say.

While we won’t be rushing out to buy this again at 14 Euros, I think we will keep it in mind for the next time we are after a ‘big’ white.  More than anything, it made me realize just how much variety there is here in Spain in today’s very progressive wine world.  There is a lot of tradition (good and bad) as well; really, there’s something for everyone.

If you’re an ex-Californian Chardonnay drinker, you should pick up a bottle of this.  If not, maybe you should anyway - why not?

Cheers!