Wine World

That said, it has never been an easy task. To be frank, not only have the usual suspects of France, Germany and Italy consistently produced finer, high-end wines than their European compatriot, Spain—but even New World upstarts, such as Australia, have rapidly eclipsed this one-time giant. Given that Spain produces just about as much wine as any other country in the world, and its population consumes wine at one of the highest per capita rates, the virtual absence of Spain from the fine wine pantheon was difficult to understand.

This is not to say that Spain’s presence was completely absent. Every major account of the world’s greatest wines invariably includes one—but only one—Spanish wine, Vega-Sicilia’s Unico. Unico is noteworthy among the world’s finest wines, as vintages are not released chronologically. Rather, the winery cellars its wines until, in the winery’s opinion, they are ready to drink. For a classic vintage, these wines may be aged in bottles at the winery for 10 or 20 years after the rest of the world’s wines have been released to collectors’ cellars. So great is Vega-Sicilia’s fame that I lobbied to name my first daughter "Cecilia." Unfortunately, my wife did not see the cleverness in the name "Cecilia Vega." Nor was "Rhuda" an option.

In my opinion, much of the problem with Spain’s wines was the direct result of its relatively antique classification system. Wines were separated into three quality levels: Crianza ("crush"), Reserva and Gran Reserva. While Crianza wines could be released while they were young and retained their fruit, Reserva wines required a minimum of three years aging (at least one in barrel). Gran Reservas require a minimum of five years aging, with at least two years in barrels—and often more.

Wine ages remarkably rapidly while in barrels, and only the most powerful red wines from around the world are aged for more than 12 to 18 months in a barrel. The predictable result of Spain’s aging regimen was that Gran Reservas and—to a lesser extent—Reservas emerged from their barrels faded, showing very little fruit and tasting of a fair amount of wood. Too often, at an international tasting, my Spaniards would lag behind the wines from other nations. I have often suspected this is why I have so many Irish friends. No matter how poorly my Spanish wines showed, they have never lost to an Irish wine.

Over the last 15 years, Spain’s vast potential has been tapped through a confluence of capital and talent, both domestic and international. The roots, perhaps, began with the efforts of five forward-thinking Spanish winemakers who revitalized the once-obscure region of Priorat through the use of modern techniques and the sometime incorporation of international varieties such as Cabernet Sauvignon. Their wines are now commonly considered among the world’s finest, such as Alvaro Palacios’ L‘Ermita and Clos Erasmus from Daphne Glorian.

Soon, top winemakers from around the world were scouring once-obscure Spanish appellations such as Toro, Jumilla and Tarragona. International talent included Peter Sisseck from Denmark and Chris Ringland from Australia. Ringland had already achieved "cult" status with his Three Rivers Shirazes from Australia, and Sisseck’s Pingus from Ribera del Duero quickly established itself as one of the world’s finest wines. Even the venerable Vega-Sicilia has broadened its horizons, establishing a winery in Toro for the production of a new wine dubbed Pintia.

The culmination of this Spanish renaissance was seen in a recent edition of Robert Parker’s The Wine Advocate. In its decades of reviews, not a single Spanish wine had ever been given a perfect 100-point score. In the 2004 vintage, no fewer than five different producers achieved that feat: Sisseck’s Pingus, Glorian’s Clos Erasmus, Artadi’s single-vineyard El Pison, Numanthia’s Termanthia and Benjamin Romeo’s Contador all achieved status as instant legends.

Ten more wines from the 2004 vintage achieved scores of 98 or 99. Not since Parker boldly anointed Bordeaux’s 1982 vintage had there been so many wines from different wineries considered so highly.

Twenty-two years from now, will these wines be considered with the same respect currently accorded 1982 Latour or Mouton-Rothschild? This thought, rather than exciting wine aficionados, has led to a bit of a backlash against the sanctity of these reviews. Complicating matters is the fact that The Wine Advocate’s Spanish reviews had been written by Robert Parker, and 2004 was the first vintage that was from his longtime friend and tasting partner Dr. Jay Stuart Miller. It probably didn’t help matters that this was also the first major set of reviews by Miller published in The Wine Advocate.

To many, the coronation of Spain’s wines as being on par with the finest wines of France and California is a difficult pill to swallow. Perhaps it is human nature to resist change, or, given that many of the top wines of France were classified as far back as 1855, a belief that upstarts should not receive the same reverence as established vinous blue bloods. Regardless, a perception exists that Miller’s reviews are not to be accorded the same weight as Parker’s.

Simply put, I think this belief to be flawed, and those who avoid the top 2004 Spanish reds for their cellar will ultimately regret that decision. First, to decry Miller’s point scores as excessive ignores that both the Clos Erasmus and the Contador received 99-point scores from Parker the year before, and Pingus had been receiving 98- and 99-point scores for almost a decade. I had tasted the 2004 Termanthia before the review was published, and found it every bit the equal of Shafer’s 2002 Hillside Select Cabernet Sauvignon, also a 100-point wine.

While these wines may be a bit out of a normal wine budget, bear in mind that almost all of these producers produce multiple wines and, in a vintage as strong as 2004, their other labels also performed spectacularly. For an affordable taste of Peter Sisseck’s wines, try his Flor de Pingus which received 97 points in the 2004 vintage. Similarly, look for the 2004 editions of Numanthia, Clos Erasmus’ Laurel and Romeo’s La Cueva del Contador. Also well worth the search and the tariff are the 2004 Alto Moncayo from Chris Ringland and El Nido’s Clio.

Enjoy your discoveries of this new (old) region.