Classic Wine Library

Extract: The wines of Southwest U.S.A. by Jessica Dupuy

20 January 2022 by Rebecca in Classic Wine Library, Extracts, Wine and spirits

The advent of winemaking in the Southwest
While most American history is first associated with British colonization along the east coast of the country at the beginning of the seventeenth century, New Mexico was first colonized by the Spanish. Second to Florida, New Mexico is one of the oldest state names in the country. It was proclaimed Nuevo Méjico in 1565 by Spanish explorer Francisco de Ibarra in his expeditions north of Mexico.

New Mexico also has the distinction of having the longest history of wine production in the United States. As early as 1629, vineyard plantings were recorded among the Franciscan friars who established missionary settlements northward along the Rio Grande. The missions were the result of Spanish exploration by Don Juan de Oñate, the son of a wealthy silver baron in Zacatecas, Mexico in the late sixteenth century, who charted a new route up through the Chihuahuan Desert which later became known as the El Camino Real, or Royal Road, and would become the major trading route from Mexico to the New World. His initial quest was in search of gold for the Spanish monarchy, but he was also charged with establishing a settlement for the Christian colonization of the native Puebloan tribes of the region. Along with him, he brought colonists, Franciscan monks, soldiers, and cattle to establish a foothold in the area. In 1598, he established the settlement of San Juan de los Cabelleros, taking over the existing Ohkay Owingeh Pueblo, which was located 30 miles (48 kilometers) north of present-day Santa Fe. Although the area did provide excellent land for livestock grazing and relatively fertile soils for crop farming, because of the lack of gold or any other precious metals the endeavor ended up costing the Spanish crown more than it cared to continue investing. In 1608, with the settlement in danger of abandonment, Friar Lázaro Ximénez traveled to Mexico as an ambassador for Oñate to plead for the continuation of the establishment.

The missions achieved some success in their quest to convert native inhabitants of the region—primarily Pueblo, Apache, and Navajo—but had a major obstacle in the presentation of sacramental wine. Vineyard establishment in the New World had begun as early as 1521, in Mexico’s Valle de Parras, when noted Spanish explorer Hernán Cortés required that on the land they were granted, each Spanish settler plant 1,000 vines for every 100 natives in service to them. The effort was geared to producing sufficient wine for everyday life within the settlement. More than seven decades later, Spain’s King Philip II noticed a steep cut in the exportation of Spanish wine to the New World. At the time, grape production accounted for nearly a quarter of Spain’s foreign revenue. In an attempt to control revenues from the sale of wine and protect the Spanish agricultural industry at all costs, Spain passed a law in 1595 that prohibited grapevine growing in the New World. Instead, the missions were required to await shipments of wine from Spain via Mexico. This could entail a wait of as much as three years, assuming shipments weren’t fated to sink to the bottom of the ocean, due to frequent shipwrecks in the Gulf of Mexico. What little wine did make it to the outpost at New Mexico was often maderized and spoiled from the long, oppressively hot transport through the Chihuahuan Desert.

As a result, and in defiance of the Spanish order, Jesuit priests of Parras, Mexico began planting grapevines at the turn of the sixteenth century and making wine for sacramental use. The idea—and most likely a handful of vine cuttings—made its way to the Piro Pueblo of Senecú, near what is now the city of Socorro, where Franciscan monk Fray Garcia de Zúniga and Capuchín monk Antonio de Arteaga also planted grapes at the mission church, and through the churches of the Rio Grande in 1629. But these vineyards were not long-lived. Throughout the seventeenth century, a combination of harsh winters, massive flooding along the Rio Grande, and frequent skirmishes between the Spanish settlers and the warring native Apache tribe all but destroyed most of the vineyards as well as the entirety of the Senecú Pueblo.

The grape mission
It is unclear exactly which grape variety was planted by the Franciscan monks in 1629, since there are no remains of the original vineyard plantings. However, many believe that it was the Mission grape. According to research from the Centro Nacional de Biotecnologica in Madrid, it was the earliest Vitis vinifera grown in the western hemisphere. It is also believed to be the first grape variety planted in the Valle de Parres, Mexico, which is likely where cuttings for the early New Mexico planting originated. Of course, it wasn’t known in Spain as the Mission grape. In its native country, it was Listan Negro, or Listan Prieto, a native Spanish grape that was known for its thick skin and sturdy, hardy trunks. It proved resilient in transfer to the New World as well as productive in the dry, mineral-rich soils of New Mexico. The variety has been genetically linked to Listan Blanco, or Palomino Blanco, the primary grape in Sherry production.

Mission grapes form large, loose clusters that allow air to move through the grapes, greatly reducing the risk of rot and mold. The result is a cluster that can take more time to ripen on the vine. Depending on growing conditions, the vines can easily produce more than 10 tons per acre (22.42 metric tons per hectare) if yields are not managed. They were probably allowed to push for the higher quantities for the Spanish mission sacramental wines in the New World.

In terms of wine production, there’s a reason Mission isn’t topping the list of the wine world’s most planted grapes. Though it has rather thick skins, the fruit rarely develops much concentration either in color or phenolic content. Wines tend to lack structure, depth, and acidity. Though it served its purpose for sacramental wine, it generally falls short in expectation compared to the international varieties that are planted throughout the western hemisphere today.

Today, Listan Negro is rarely seen in Spain, aside from some plantings on the Canary Islands. But it seems to have found a home in the Americas. In South America, in particular, it is grown for bulk wine production and in recent years for serious table wines. Argentina grows it under the name of Criolla, Peru calls it Negra Criolla, in Bolivia it is Missionara, and in Chile, it’s País. While not widely planted in the United States, you can find it in California’s Santa Barbara regions as well as further north near Sacramento.

You can also find it at Tularosa Vineyards Winery in the small town of Tularosa in Southern New Mexico, just east of the Rio Grande. With elevations ranging between 4,500 and 6,800 feet (1,372 and 2,072 meters), the Tularosa Basin, where the town is situated, first saw vineyards in the 1860s from Mission vine cuttings brought by Spanish settlers.

An article in the Alamogordo News in September 1932, describes the town of Tularosa in 1870:

Grapes were planted, and wine was made to supply the local requirements. The principal product was a native sour wine locally known as “cerque” and was freely used by many residents. The usual method of manufacture was very primitive and crude, and in present times would be condemned as unsanitary and unfit for human consumption. The grapes were emptied into rawhide containers; sack like affairs (tinas) suspended on forked posts, which in turn carried square frames of poles to which the rims of the tramping sacks were lashed. Men in their bare feet tramped them to a pulpy mass, sinking to their knees in the process. The “pummies” were then skimmed from the surface as they rose to the top of the fermenting wine. After 10 days without disturbing, the sediment collected in the bottom, and cool fermentation was allowed to complete. The wines were deemed ready 30 days from the second draining. Some wines produced were a well-flavored stimulating beverage, while others made a vinegar-like product that intoxicated and sickened with a nauseating flavor. The most palatable was, of course, in greater demand and brought a better price, but the inferior stuff was still consumed at a profit to the producers.

A century later, Tularosa Vineyards Winery was founded in the late 1980s by New Yorker David Wickham and his wife, Teresita. Following a tour of duty in the U.S. Air Force, the Wickhams settled in the quaint New Mexico small town in the late 1970s and stumbled into the hobby of grape growing and winemaking. This endeavor would later lead to the planting of 10 acres (4 hectares) of vineyard in 1985 and the opening of their winery in 1989. In 1989, Wickham planted a small vineyard of Mission grapes from the cuttings of a vine he found in the backyard of a man named Ben Chavez in La Luz, New Mexico. The vine was estimated to be a little more than 100 years old. With a trunk diameter of approximately 30 inches (76 centimeters), the single vine is said to have yielded more than 300 pounds (136 kilograms) of grapes in different years. To preserve the historical relevance of the grape within New Mexico, Wickham has cultivated an acre of Mission vines from which he produces in an off-dry style.

In the following decades, Wickham served as a mentor to other pioneering farmers who were interested in trying their hand at grape growing, buying their yields for his expanding wine production. In 1995 his son took on the role of winemaker, adding Tularosa Vineyards Winery to the growing list of multi-generational family wineries in New Mexico. Today, the winery still operates at a small capacity but produces more than 3,500 cases annually.

Extract from The wines of Southwest U.S.A. © Jessica Dupuy (Infinite Ideas, 2020)
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Extract: The wines of Roussillon by Rosemary George MW

21 July 2021 by Rebecca in Classic Wine Library, Extracts, Wine and spirits

Setting the scene
Roussillon stands alone, proud and independent. For many years it suffered a union of convenience with the Languedoc, when the wines of two relatively unknown areas lacked any reputation, and when it was simpler to refer to the departments of the south, without differentiating between them, as Languedoc-Roussillon. Roussillon deserves so much more than that; it needs to come out from under the shadow of the Languedoc and stand alone. Its history is different, its language is different and the wines are quite different and original. Much of Roussillon is Catalan, with strong links to Catalonia in Spain. The local language is Catalan, whereas the Languedoc is part of Occitanie, where Occitan is the local language. Roussillon did not become fully part of France until the Treaty of the Pyrenees in 1659.

The original reputation of Roussillon is founded on what are rather clumsily called Vins Doux Naturels, VDN for short, fortified wines for which the key grape varieties are Muscat and Grenache, with their easily attained high alcohol levels making them the most suitable varieties. The natural sweetness is the sugar that remains in the juice after fortification. The wine growers tend to simply refer to the Vins Doux Naturels as vins doux, in contrast to their table wines, or vins secs. These are a relatively recent development in Roussillon. It is only in the last 20 years or so that vins secs have overtaken Vins Doux Naturels in importance. The first appellations in Roussillon appeared in 1936 and were for Vin Doux Naturel; the first appellations for vins secs did not follow until 1971, for red Collioure, and 1977 for Côtes du Roussillon and Côtes du Roussillon Villages, admittedly a few years before the key appellations of the Languedoc, in 1985.

Essentially Roussillon equates to the department of the Pyrénées-Orientales. Its boundaries are limited by the Pyrenees, with the Canigou the highest peak, at 2,785 metres, providing an important landmark. To the north, the foothills of the Corbières massif separate it from the Languedoc vineyards of Corbières itself, with the ruined Cathar castle of Quéribus and the lookout tower of Tautavel dominating the skyline.

Usually I have approached Roussillon from the Languedoc, driving south on the motorway. You pass Fitou, the last village of the Languedoc, reaching the extraordinary fortress of Salses shortly after, by which time you are in Roussillon and in northern Catalonia. In the distance is the outline of the Pyrenees, which are snow-capped for much of the year. These mountains unify the two halves of Catalonia. The fortress of Salses was first constructed in the fifteenth century and adapted by Vauban in the seventeenth century. It is well worth a visit, which you can easily do from the motorway aire, without leaving the motorway itself. Taking a slower and more scenic route over the hills from Corbières, you come past the castle of Quéribus and descend into the Agly Valley past either Vingrau and Tautavel or Maury. Alternatively, for still more dramatic scenery, there is the most stupendous of all the Cathar castles, the Château de Peyrepertuse, from which you could take in the Gorges de Galamus to St Paul-de-Fenouillet.

Three principal rivers cross the region to meet the Mediterranean. The most northern is the Agly, with the twin appellations of Maury and Maury Sec, as well as many of the villages of Côtes du Roussillon Villages. The Agly Valley really is the core of the vineyards of Roussillon, with awe-inspiringly majestic scenery. The vineyards peter out after Caudiès-de-Fenouillèdes, as the climate becomes cooler. If you carry on west along the valley past Axat and drive through the dramatic Defile de Pierre-Lys, with its threatening overhanging rocks, the next vineyards you encounter are those of fresher, more bucolic Limoux. The middle river is the Têt, which flows past the city of Perpignan and the northern edge of Les Aspres, where the vineyards are on undulating slopes. Then to the south there is the Tech, which meets the sea just north of the resort of Argelès and the vineyards of Banyuls and Collioure. Even without wine, Collioure and Banyuls would be worth the journey. Banyuls has an attractive seafront, with statues by Aristide Maillol, who was born here, and Collioure, dominated by its castle, is an enchanting fishing port with lively streets, known for its anchovies. The appellations stand slightly apart from the rest of Roussillon. The vineyards are even more dramatic than those of the Agly Valley, sitting on steep terraced hillsides, where mechanization is virtually impossible and heroic viticulture is the order of the day.

There are many strands to the wines of Roussillon. With some exceptions among the wine estates near the coast close to Perpignan, the vineyards are all on hillsides, some gentle, some much steeper. The flatter land to the west of Perpignan is a vast market garden, above all for apricots and peaches. March is a wonderful time to be there; the orchards are flowering and spring is coming, with vivid splashes of delicate blossom. The climate is essentially Mediterranean, but with climate change it is becoming much less consistent. The winds can blow hard. Winters are usually mild, and summers are hot, with drought conditions increasingly prevalent, having an inevitable impact on yields. As a result of the formation of the Pyrenees, the soil is enormously varied, more diverse than just about any other vineyard of France, with the exception of Alsace. Maury is based on schist, there is granite at Lesquerde and you will also find clay and limestone, marl, sandstone and gneiss. The variations are infinite.

As for grape varieties, Grenache Noir is the key variety for red wine, with the added attraction of old vines. You will see vineyards of gnarled, stubby bush vines that withstand the strong winds. Usually the wines are field blends, featuring all three colours of Grenache, often with some Carignan for good measure. There is growing interest in Carignan, with its acidity providing an important balance to Grenache. Syrah and Mourvèdre also feature, and to a lesser extent Cinsault, which was previously considered too light and not suitable for Vins Doux Naturels. The likes of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot are relatively rare in Roussillon.

For white wine, Grenache Blanc and Grenache Gris are important, as is Macabeo, the traditional white grape of Catalonia, which is much less common in the Languedoc. You will also find Carignan Blanc (Carignan Gris is very rare) along with Malvoisie du Roussillon, or Tourbat, which has fallen from favour, but may be in line for a revival. Vermentino, Roussanne, Marsanne and Viognier also feature in the appellations, and you may find occasional examples of Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc in the IGPs. Muscat, both Muscat à Petits Grains and Muscat d’Alexandrie, is of course significant for Muscat de Rivesaltes, and also as a vin sec. One of the surprises and discoveries during my research was the quality of the white wines of Roussillon. It is an enigma that so many of the wines simply do not taste as though they come from a hot climate. You could be forgiven for thinking that the climate of Roussillon would be completely unsuitable for white wine, but other factors come into play, such as altitude, the proximity of the mountains and the suitability of the indigenous varieties to the terroir.

The red wines have evolved enormously, with many changes and developments over the years. Winemaking has become more refined, with less heavy-handed extraction, less use of small oak barrels and a shift towards bigger demi-muids and even foudres. You will also find eggs and amphorae. There is a quest for lower alcohol levels. People are experimenting with orange wines and wines without any added sulphur, even wine growers who I would have thought more conventional in their approach than the natural winemakers, for whom any additions or interventions are anathema. The natural wine movement has a firm foothold in Roussillon, centred on the village of Latour-de-France, and is popular with many of the new arrivals in the region. Like the Languedoc, Roussillon attracts outsiders, from elsewhere in France and from other countries and continents. The price of vineyards is such that they are accessible to those with more limited means. Often the newcomers have moved from other fields of activity, bringing a different perspective to a second career in wine. Although production was once dominated by the village cooperatives, these have become very much less important, with an escalation in the number of independent wine estates, each trying to make its mark. Several of the wine estates that I visited have made their first wines within the last five years, and certainly within the past ten years. Work in the vineyards has evolved. Organic viticulture and biodynamic practices are increasingly important, while some growers prefer to follow the requirements of Haute Valeur Environnementale (HVE), which places an emphasis on biodiversity. There is a widespread awareness of climate change and its impact, particularly on yields and grape quality.

Often the appellation requirements are questioned, with the restrictions found to be limiting. Consequently, the principal IGP, Côtes Catalanes, is widely used by those who prefer more flexibility and who find the appellations irksome; the IGP allows for single varietals, which are often particularly successful for white wine. Although blending is the essence of the appellations of Roussillon, sometimes a wine grower does not have the necessary proportions in their vineyards, and will again resort to the IGP (Pays d’Oc is less important in Roussillon than in the Languedoc). And for those who will have no truck with any regulations, there is always Vin de France. Do not dismiss a Vin de France from Roussillon; there will be a good reason why the wine is a Vin de France rather than an appellation or IGP. You may not like it, but it will have been made with passion and commitment.

The most original aspect of wine in Roussillon remains without doubt its Vins Doux Naturels, with the appellations of Maury, Banyuls and Rivesaltes. Rivesaltes and Muscat de Rivesaltes cover virtually the whole department, while Maury and Banyuls are focused on those two villages. The Vins Doux Naturels take two forms: reductive and oxidative. The reductive wines, Rimage and Grenat, are a more recent development, while the oxidative wines are an intrinsic part of the history and traditions of Roussillon. They may be described as rancio if they have developed the particular characteristics while ageing, in either a barrel or a glass jar exposed to the elements and extremes of temperature.

However, Rancio Sec, an old tradition that so nearly disappeared, describes a wine that is not fortified, merely aged for several years in barrel without any ouillage. Some say that historically rancio preceded the Vins Doux Naturels, as rancio does not require fortification. It is neither a Vin Doux Naturel, nor a vin sec, but depends on oxidative ageing to develop some wonderful original flavours, not dissimilar to fino sherry. Rancio Sec nearly disappeared, as so few people were making it, but happily a group of fervent enthusiasts managed to stem its decline, and now it features as a category of both Côtes Catalanes and Côte Vermeille.

One of the enigmas of Roussillon is the decline in its Vins Doux Naturels. The best, the Hors d’Age, which have spent at least five years in barrel, are truly wonderful original wines, and yet they have fallen from favour. How can their decline be halted? Another puzzle is why Roussillon has not acquired the cachet of Priorat. My friend and colleague Andrew Jefford describes Roussillon as a northern Catalan echo of Priorat, observing that ‘the wines are just as “mineral”; no less overwhelming; often fresher.’ I could not agree more.

Altogether this book is the fruit of some 30 days of research on the ground, totalling almost one hundred cellar visits concentrated between June 2019 and September 2020. What follows is the distillation of those conversations and tastings, capturing the current concerns and enthusiasms of the wine growers I talked to. As I was putting the finishing touches to my manuscript, the wines of 2020 were finishing their fermentations and being racked into barrel or vat. Despite the problems and challenges of Covid-19, the wine growers were happy with the harvest.

Wendy Wilson of Domaine le Soula describes the region as ‘a hidden treasure, waiting to be discovered’. So, I would urge you to discover the region for yourselves, first via the pages of this book, preferably with a glass in hand, but I also hope that it will encourage you to visit in person, once we are able to travel freely again.

Extract from The wines of Roussillon © Rosemary George (Infinite Ideas, 2021)
To read more, buy your copy direct from the Classic Wine Library online shop.