Brew Hops & Wine Stops

One of the world’s most widely planted varieties, Grenache has a story to tell, a story embedded in some of the best known wine regions in Europe. Believed to originate in the region of Aragon in northern Spain Grenache spread throughout Europe under the Crown of Aragon, first to Catalonia and Navarra (Rioja came much later, and for different reasons) then on to the Roussillon in S. France and to Italy, most notable the island of Sardinia. With well over fifty different synonyms, the Grenache is anything but fickle. It is a late-ripening varietal, so it favors hot climates. It finds this favorable climate in Spain and Southern France, as well as in California and Australia.

One of Grenache’s assets is its ability to produce an abundant crop in these hot surroundings, where many Vitis Vinifera would not survive. The downside to this is that Grenache tends to offer low acidity, low tannins, questionable color and the undesirable ability to oxidize prematurely. To off-set this, blending in many of the regions where Grenache reigns is a must. Grenache also matures with relatively high sugars, so higher levels of alcohol can be expected. This is a benefit in the production of high octane, sweet dessert style wines, which would explain why it is the grape of choice for some of the Vin Doux Naturels in France (Banyuls, most importantly) and historically was the grape of choice in Australia for their Port inspired wines.

In Spain, Grenache began in Aragon and found its way throughout the northwest before passing over the Pyrenees into the French Roussillon region. Only since the early nineteenth century, after phyloxera had devastated much of European vineyards and extensive replanting began did Grenache (and its ability to work well in a blend) become a player in Rioja. But in southern Aragonia, in wine regions like Campo de Borja and Calatayud, Grenache (Garnacha in Spain) is top dog, and often unblended. It is in wines such as these that Spain holds firmly to the title of Greatest Wine Values of the World. An excellent example of the Spanish take on Grenache is Cistum 2009 ($17) (Robert Parker 92 points) from Navarra--115 year old vines! Intense and concentrated red berry and spice fruit.

In Australia, Grenache was one of the first Vinifera to arrive, and quickly became the backbone to the fledgling Aussie wine industry. At this point, the industry certainly was not quality oriented, but quantity...and Grenache was the man for the job. Today, however, Grenache does quite well, especially in areas like Mclaren Vale, either unblended or mixed with Shiraz and sometimes Mourvedre (GSM).

French Grenache often comes to you disguised and many things, few called Grenache. Since Grenache was introduced into the Roussillon, it is easy to see how it also became dominate in the Languedoc, then the Southern Rhone Valley, then (fortunately for rose lovers like me) on to Provence. Beginning near the border with Spain, Grenache is responsible for the wines of Banyuls (sweet) Collioure (dry) and blended in many of the A.O.P. wines of the Languedoc-Roussillon (Coteaux du Languedoc, Corbières AOC, Faugères, Minervois AOC, Fitou and Saint-Chinian). Then you come to the Rhone. Grenache is widely planted and accounts for a large proportion of nearly every wine, from the regional Cotes-du-Rhone, including the Cotes-du-Rhone Villages wines and the venerable Chateauneuf-du-Pape (where Grenache, one of 14 permitted varietals, can be as high as 80-100% of the blend). This explains why Chateauneuf-du-Pape has the highest minimum alcohol requirements of any wine in France, and it is here you will also find many, many 100+ year old Grenache vines. Try Le Grenache de Magellan 2011 ($14) with focused raspberry and pepper notes, good spice and a touch of leathery earth.

Once the grape has conquered the Pyrenees and spread across S. France, it was only a matter of time before Grenache reached Italy. A country with more indigenous varietals than formaggi (just kidding, I never counted), the last thing Italy needed was another red grape. Not so on the island of Sardinia. Locally known as Cannonau, the wine as Cannonau di Sardegna, this particular incarnation of Grenache gained worldwide acclaim a few decades back, when their wine, along with Madiran (red wine from the village of Madiran in SW France, made from the Tannat variety) was found to contain much higher levels of resveratrol and the polyphenol procyanidin. Wine for health, none better than the Cannonau de Sardegna! Santa Maria la Palma ‘le Bombarde’ Cannonau de Sardegna 2012 ($13).

Shayne Hebert, Central Florida wine supervisor. Follow me on Twitter @abcwineshayne.

“In the 12^th Century, Cistercian Monks of the Monastery of Fitero planted their first vines of Garnacha in Navarra. Rafael Reverte has recovered this ungrafted vineyard, planted in 1899 before the Phylloxera outbreak, to produce a legendary wine of limited production.” –from the back of the Cistum 2009 bottle.

I don’t always believe what’s written on the back of wine bottles, but when the wine also gets a Parker 92 score, I pay a little more attention. Once I tasted the 2009 Cistum Ancient Vine Garnacha from Navarra, Spain, I had to acknowledge my strange relationship with ancient vine wines, as well as relish in the opportunity to taste something left over from the end of the 19^th Century. I must admit that I have a mystical reverence for ancient vines, especially 120-year-old, ungrafted, pre-Phylloxera vines. Even though I am a doubter by nature, ancient vines make me a believer and so I believe, I believe.

My first experience with old or ancient vines was a California Zinfandel, Lodi, perhaps. I remember it had a certain “je ne sais quoi” quality, where it was special and different, but I wasn’t quite sure how. I was to come to understand that this was not the norm. There is also no official rule about designating “old vine” versus “ancient vine” nationally, let alone internationally. If we poll a group of sommeliers we’d probably agree that old vines are over 40 years going up past 50 years, where ancient vines should be over 75 years approaching the magical century mark. A century is magical because it can bring us to those halcyon days, before that little North American louse, Phylloxera, wiped out European vineyards at the turn of the 19^th to 20^th Century. Therefore finding ungrafted vines, or vines not grafted on American rootstock, the only guaranteed protection from Phylloxera, which is now in most of the wine regions of the world, is note-worthy. A few higher-elevation, less accessible locales, like Navarra, never faced the scourge of this lousy louse, so we have the potential of tasting something out of history, even if the vintage is only five years ago.

If old vines create a better wine, why aren’t all vineyards old vine? When I visited Bordeaux a decade ago I was shocked to learn that they generally dig up their oldest vines keeping to a median age between 20 and 40 years. The reason is to maintain production quantities, as old vines produce less and less fruit each year, but the fruit produced tends to have more intense flavors, as well as more complexity. For many Bordeaux vignerons, the lack of quantity is not balanced by an increase in quality in their economic equation. This is not true for every winemaker. In my 25 years in this business, the main distinction for me with ancient vine wines is complexity. These vines reach much deeper (and therefore need less irrigation) and dredge up more minerality and subtle nuances from the soil, creating a wine of special character.

Let’s consider this ancient vine wine, Cistum. Inky black depths, olives and black currants crushed on a slab of slate. The color is ruby red, but on the palate I feel as though I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole. The mineral density of these ancient vines is impressive with graphite and a pleasant chalky minerality. Now I’m perceiving rhubarb stored in a cedar spice box. Complexity is the key word, and I keep coming back to my glass for a completely different experience. This is not a light Garnacha at all! Think Priorat and Sardinian Cannonau, but at half the price. Cistum is a sommstumper, not what I was expecting in a Spanish Garnacha under $20. This bottle holds up for three days with just a recork, no Vacuvin or similar system required. Its ability to last after being open is another trait I associate with these ancient vines. This wine speaks of history and expresses a sense of time, of older days, deep and brooding, full of challenge and confrontation, rather than known New World fruit bomb comforts. Occasionally real wine lovers (wine geeks to some) like to think they’re drinking history. This is history.

The oldest producing vine in the world is a Zametovka vine grown in Maribor, Slovenia, planted in the 17^th Century, which only produces 35 to 55 kg of grapes each year. In Australia’s Barossa Valley there are Shiraz vines from Tanunda planted in 1847, which are legally protected. So vines from 1899 might seem like newcomers, but to those of us in the business they represent a Holy Grail. Tasting this wine is a chance to try something truly special that is not available in most of the world, whose complexity and depth remind us of the mystery for which we are all searching in every glass.

Daniel Eddy

Gainesville Wine Consultant for ABC Fine Wines & Spirits

Wine Pairing Examiner for Examiner.com