Thatcher's Imports Spain Trip: Live Blogging Day 2, Part II - Artadi, Artazu & Izar-Leku
Day Two, Part II: Artadi, Artazu & Izar-Leku
Leaving behind the tucked-away hillside estate of Carlos Sanchez, we descended the slope toward Laguardia and our next visit with Carlos and Patricia Lopez de Lacalle of Artadi. Every visit has had me riveted with excitement, and I flashed back to when Thatcher informed us that Artadi was set to join our family of Spanish estates imported by the company. Talking with Hannah, at first it was surprising for both of us; such an established brand, a famous one, even, joining what some could have viewed as an upstart importer. For me, this was to be the most important visit, and was the most crucial introduction to us as a team.
Rioja - if you do even a surface-level dive - has been through a century of peaks and valleys. From original Bordeaux investment (surprisingly close in proximity!) to WWII, to a civil war, and much upheaval in the wine world itself. Artadi - founded in 1985 - received much acclaim through the years, but Carlos and Patricia’s father raised his children to, with him, be inquisitive, curious and to challenge authority - with respect.
That’s why, in 2015, when they made the decision as a family to bottle their wines without using the Rioja designation. The restrictive rules on winemaking - long, oxidative elevages, extended aging requirements and so on - no longer fit in with their vision. Most of all, the ability to identify on the label not only their village, but the particular plots that they had identified as possessing special and unique characteristics, they were being deprived of. No more.
As we had driven into Rioja, the scattered and, at times, ornately laid-out terraces with varied aspects, slopes and exposures, it resembled a patchwork quilt of colors in numerous spectra, maybe faintly reminding some of some of our other favorite wine regions who are well-known for speaking on the difference a single row or two make in identifying the wines.
Pulling into Artadi, we were at first taken aback by the beautifully-appointed estate. The gate pulled back to reveal a sleek, classy winery with a gorgeous tasting and dining area that your Italian mother could have called a “great room”. But then there they are, the matching sets of piercing platinum-blue eyes on Carlos and Patricia, matched by a genuinely ecstatic smile. You couldn’t help but feel instantly at home, which makes sense given their love of others’ hospitality.
Settling in, we were greeted with a glass of the 2019 Izar-Leku, their sparkling estate in Getaria made of Hondarribi Zuri & Hondarribi Beltza. Aromatically it instantly put me at ease, so fresh and a nice hit of biscuity goodness. Uber-fine mousse on the palate, it’s a terrific aperitif, quaffer, any word to suggest a happy wine.
Progressing into reds next, featuring their Navarra project, we return to the land of Garnacha quickly with Artazu Pasos de San Martin. Ruby to magenta in the glass, the aromatics were gravely, silky, subtly floral. The fruit was similarly colored for me, and this is like a soft velvet cape, weightless. The next, Santa Cruz, comes from centenarian vines and is insanely low-yielding (500-2000 kg/ha), and as such carried a bit more weight, but still a distinct Atlantic influence in its deft saline touch to the darker fruits and flowers. Almost too easy to drink, these two!
The vineyard land within the Rioja limits totals 56 hectares, mostly split between Laguardia and Elvillar de Alava. Laguardia is in what was once a lake valley, and Elvillar was described as “M-Shaped”, in that it has ridges and dips up and over two of them, creating a much different stoniness to the wines, whereas Laguardia is much more chalky with erosion from the Pyrenees.
Carlos and Patricia grouped our next set of wines not by depth or quality, but by the distinct valleys within which the wines’ lieu-dits lay. We began first with what they call their more “regional wine”, the Vinas de Gain Blanco & Tinto. “These allow us to play around with the valley, create a blend of our two villages.” The Blanco, entirely Viura, was a 2020 and showed the openness you’d expect with more age: tropical fruits but with terrific energy keeping the volume of the wine in check. “Viura,” Carlos admitted, “Needs to spend more time in oak as it can be flat aromatically; it needs to develop more tertiary and secondary flavors and aromas.” Vinas de Gain Tinto was the intro to what would make up most of the rest of the tasting: Tempranillo. “It’s a serious grape,” Patricia added. This had great tension, fine but multiple tannin, and noticeably chalky, tart red & purple fruits.
Into the lieu-dits we go, beginning with the three Elvillar reds. La Hoya (“La’O’ya”) was still broad with great tension, but had warmer, red fruits, even a hint of orange peel. “This wine always gives me pleasure,” Carlos admitted. Quintanilla possessed a more brooding, darker attitude, and more quantity of tannin - not harsh or stiff tannin, but it felt like there were more of the tiny tactile pieces. La Poza de Ballesteros came back to the brighter side, a more lifted and accessible side of Tempranillo, which makes sense since this site has more exposure, more sunlight.
Laguardia’s trio next started with Valdegines (Val-deh-hee-nais) possessed dusty tannins as we would find more of from these vineyards, and a dark plum flavor emerged more here. A finely-structured wine. San Lazaro had red and black fruits jumping out, and again made me think of tannins in multiplicity, rather than intensity. For Carretil, the flavors were cooler, softer, less sunny but unctuous.
We finished with Vina Pison, a vineyard planted in 1945 (imagine that) just south ofLaguardia and fermented in 500 & 600L barrels before entering a second winter in foudre. This was, as expected, the wine with the greatest spark - as we learned, it was harvested slightly earlier than others - but possessed intense color in the glass. Almost a blend of the plum and the warmer red fruit flavors from the previous wines, but the tactile feeling seemed even more refined, structured, long-lasting.
I spent the next several hours trying to put the wines in the right context, asking as many of my traveling companions their own thoughts. Unanimously, the wines were adored, but wrangling with what we had known (or been spoiled by in the US, where often only the finest old-school Riojas saw the light of day in Michelin-starred restaurants that dot our resumes) versus this new entity to us. Artadi had been around for forty years, but did we know them?
The conclusion I came to felt most natural: I want to see these wines next year, in five years, in ten years, in twenty and so on. They seem absolutely eternal, not one withering aspect to them and yet not “hard”. Incredibly well-structured, befitting a fine red meat or savory dish, but should you open them in the near future, deserving of planning that meal and decanting the bottle the day prior.
Putting a wine in context is important for me; learning the wines for a service professional even more so - how do we find the wine’s apex? God knows where these will reach their first, second or third apex like a well-structured Bordeaux, but we have to judge them with patience, grace and a look to what already exists within them: insane purity of fruit, identity of place, and undetermined potential.
In short? Sorry, I don’t do that. But sure, drink the Vinas de Gain wines now, as you would a “lunch wine” akin to your favorite Piedmontese Barbera or Dolcetto while you wait for the killer B’s…except in this case, it’s the killer P’s, for Paraje.
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