Rioja at Harrods

If someone had told me a couple of years ago that a couple of years hence I'd be attending wine tastings at Harrods I don't know what I would have done. But there I was, in the poshest shop in the world, making pronouncements about Riojas. In fact, it was a pretty good deal - £25 a ticket, for all the wine, canapes and jamón you could want. Imagine an upmarket happy hour.

I began the session by tasting wines I considered affordable - the Harrods Rioja 2006, for instance, at just over a tenner - in the hopes of taking advantage of the store's one-night-only discount to pick up a couple of bottles as I left. Described as "light and easy drinking", my notes for this one read "dry", rather abruptly, but it was my first taste of the evening and perhaps my palate needed working on. After a dud or two I was tempted into trying Artesa Organic 2007 (pictured below left), which was lovely, with plenty of cherry going on, proving it's not the age that counts, it's what you do with it. Not sure what effect the organic-ness had on the taste, and since I doubt they keep non-organic vines to help us compare I suppose we'll never know.

Shortly afterwards I tossed aside my affordability rule and lunged for some very special Riojas indeed. They included La Alta Gran Reserva 890 1995, which normally retails at £115 a bottle. I know! What struck me about his one, which I recorded as "earthy and dry", and other similarly "traditional" Riojas available for tasting, was how light they were, both in colour and density. For some reason I'd always assumed the older and grander the wine the fuller-bodied it would turn out to be. I've since learned that the opposite is true, at least when it comes to Rioja. Traditional styles are aged for longer, usually in American barrels, which impart that earthy spiciness, and their colour is more like Ribena than the rich, almost black-red wines of the "modern" style, which generally rest in French oak for less time, to produce rich, dense and "upfront" fruit flavours.

The king of the old-school Riojas at this tasting was the Monte Real Gran Reserva 1964 - my parents would have been teenagers when these grapes were harvested. I noted a "rusty" colour, a "thin" mouthfeel, and gorgeous flavours of mint, bourbon and oak, with a long finish. If only I had a spare £135. I KNOW!

In betwixt the affordable and the, er, less affordable wines were a bunch of what might be describable as quality mid-priced bottles. I should mention the Miguel Merino Gran Reserva 2000 ("smooth, chocolatey and light-bodied") and the La Alta Arana 2001 ("vanilla, soft"). I was also pleased to see an old favourite of mine from our trip to Rioja last year, the Finca Valpiedra Cantos de Valpiedra 2006, and picked up a bottle post-haste at the on-the-night tasting price.

Then, towards the end of evening, as I was congratulating myself on having spent relatively little, I got chatting to the guy from Bodegas Ramon Bilbao and was seduced by his Mirto 2005 (right), whose description includes blackberries, smoked wood, toasted bread and nutmeg. Even with the discount, I spent a fair whack of money on this bottle, avid reader, but I spent it for you, since just as soon as I find an event, anniversary or celebration worthy of these grapes (my 100th birthday?) I'll be writing stuff down and posting it here.

Harrods do these tastings monthly, focusing on a different region or style each session, and I can tell you never has posh binge drinking been so appealing.

Ysios Rioja Reserva

Lovely Rioja, one of our dwindling supply from our Spanish trip last autumn. Glorious aromas of oak, cedarwood, plum and chocolate. This 2004 vintage gives the impression of a rich, full-bodied wine without the density of one.

Marqués del Romeral Reserva Rioja

I have an unfortunate tendency to trust experts, so when a critic described Marqués del Romeral's 2005 Reserva as one of his favourite M&S wines - "a smooth, mellow, vanilla rich tempranillo blend in traditional oak aged style" - only for M&S to copy and paste said description on to a little card and attach it to the shelf bearing said bottle - I felt compelled to try it. I'm glad I did. This rioja's heavenly aroma was precisely vanilla rich, while the taste was black cherries and oak. Made from tempranillo, graciano and mazuelo grapes, it was on the dryer side, but still finished smoothly. Thank goodness for experts.

Campo Viejo Rioja Reserva

Having enjoyed Campo Viejo's Crianza, and also its Gran Reserva, it was time to have a go on the middle sibling - the Reserva. This 2005 vintage, aged 18 months in oak, is smooth with some spice, suggesting rich, jammy blackcurrant - another decent rioja. Nevertheless, if I was being harsh, I might say it sits somewhat awkwardly between the chugging capability of the Crianza and the more substantial Gran. I seem to recall the label boasting about flavours of "cigar box", to which I must add, ruefully, "but no cigar".

Campo Viejo Rioja Gran Reserva

Having given a firm thumbs-up to Campo Viejo's younger Crianza, I thought I'd reacquaint myself with its grandaddy, the Gran Reserva. Aged 24 months in oak casks (compared with just 12 for the Crianza) and at least 36 in the bottle, this wine, made from Tempranillo, Graciano and Mazuelo grapes, will never be accused of lacking structure. It's super-rich - imagine, if you will, a big bunch of boozy black cherries or a handful of juicy purple plums - with a smooth, woody finish. Campo's Gran Reserva was the first Rioja I ever bought - as little as a year ago (I'm a recent convert) - and I daresay it will always be a favourite. Shared with guests alongside a huge hunk of the most frighteningly strong Pecorino I have ever encountered, this 2002 vintage held its own. That said, it may have excited me a little less this time, than previously. Am I becoming difficult to please?

Buy Campo Viejo Gran Reserva at The Drink Shop here.

More Rioja, Cardinal?

When it rains in rural Spain there's nothing to do but drink fermented grapes. Fortunately, during our recent sodden stay in the region of Rioja, we were literally sleeping above caves filled with wine.

I've already raved about the little winery attached to our hotel in the northern town of Laguardia, a slightly non-helpful raving for any Britons wanting to taste its wares, since they don't seem to be available in the UK.

Neither, sadly, do those of Carlos San Pedro Pérez de Viñaspre - a 500-year-old artisan winery that still ages its goods in cellars eight metres below street level. After being allowed to sample its pre-bottled 2006 Crianza from the tank during a tour of the cellars we asked if we could taste the Vinasperi Reserva 2004, liked it, brought one home (pictured top). It was full of oak and blueberry flavours, a little less rich than other Reservas I've tried, and with a fairly dry finish. Taken with some mature manchego and some leftover jamon and chorizo, it was a welcome reminder of a wet weekend.

A few days later we opened a takeaway bottle of 2006 Cantos de Valpiedre (left), which we first tried in a Laguardian bar on the recommendation of a friendly waitress. This wine, made from 100% Tempranillo, was and remains terrific - smoky but also fairly light, with a complex finish (complicated to describe, anyway). The name of the winery, Finca Valpiedra, means "valley of the stones", and its proximity to the Ebro river and its bed of calcium-filled pebbles apparently makes the grapes taste good. Temptingly, this one seems to be buyable in the UK.

Campo Viejo Rioja Crianza

After an afternoon of guzzling beer for research purposes and general edification we ended up in a fine Turkish grill to take stock and try to come up with coherent things to say about hops. One of the restaurant's many qualities was its corkage-free BYO policy, which meant we were able to drink a nice bottle of Rioja picked up from a nearby offy without having to pay extra for the privilege. A great wine to drink with meat, Campo Viejo's 2006 Crianza may be a welterweight when compared with its venerable relative, the Gran Reserva, but for its price (about seven quid) it packs a toasty Tempranillo punch and leaves you enough change for a mixed grill.

Mayor De Migueloa

I'm not sure how to discuss wine without sounding like a pretentious knob. But I've been called worse, so here goes...

Mayor De Migueloa is a small Rioja producer in Laguardia, northern Spain, with underground cellars built in 1619. But it's also a restaurant and hotel, where M and I were lucky enough to spend a rainy weekend last month (more here). Arriving late at night after a two-hour drive from Bilbao airport, we ordered a bottle of their 2001 Reserva and soon began declaring our undying loyalty to the place. It was so good we bought another to smuggle back to London. Ok, it wasn't really smuggling, but let's just say Easyjet doesn't exactly encourage imports.

Last night we decided it was time to pull out our souvenir and remind ourselves why Rioja rules ok. And it does - especially alongside generous servings of jamon, manchego and chorizo.

They call Tempranillo (the base ingredient of Rioja) "the noble grape", and it's certainly a class above the rest IMHWO (in my humblest wine opinion). When it comes to Mayor De Migueloa's Reserva the aromas and flavours are chocolate and black cherry. But in contrast to the cloyingly sweet happy endings you get from some full-bodied reds, its finish breathes smoke, oak, and earth.

Weird to think these grapes (aged for at least three years between barrel and bottle) were harvested eight years ago, around the time M and I first met. It seems almost unreasonable to have disposed of the bottle so willingly. And yet I like to think these grapes got a good send off.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning 

We will remember them.