2009 Alma Andina Torrontés

Andes-Adjacent Aromatic Argentinian Awaits

Argentina is making some pretty good wine.

Haven’t had any yet? That’s a shame, because there are some really excellent wines coming from this South American soccer powerhouse that not only won’t break the bank, they’ll barely bend it.

Take today’s offering, for instance. No, really: take it. It’s tasty and crisp, and available for $14. What, you don’t even know what torrontés is?

Do you like viognier?

Torrontés is an aromatic, dry white wine. So, for instance, if you like big, buttery, oaky Napa chardonnays, this probably isn’t up your alley. But if aromatic, floral viogniers or crisp, grassy, citrusy sauvignon blancs are more your cup of—er, well, tea I suppose—then you’ve found a new friend from south of the equator.

The 2009 Alma Andina is a very light, very faint yellow in the glass. It looks a lot like other aromatic, dry whites. On the nose is an incredible bouquet that features, primarily, a pink grapefruit note that will rock your socks. In general, the nose is clean and crisp, and there’s a hint of lime zest here as well, lest you think you’re actually smelling grapefruit juice.

The citrus party continues on the palate, with a lemon note the primary focus. The wine is medium bodied with a short finish and is clean, crisp, and refreshing. A bit of a pear note sticks its head out from the game room to let you know he, too, is at the party.

All in all, this is an excellent, easy drinking, aromatic dry white wine. Especially if you are a fan of the Rhone whites (viognier, marsanne, rousanne, etc) you should check out Argentinian torrontés, and the 2009 Alma Andina is as good a place to start as any.

Verdict: B+

2009 Alma Andina Torrontes

2009 Alma Andina Torrontes

Spain Keeps Surprising Me

2008 Bodegas Vina Mein Ribeiro Blanco

I’m still working my way around the world.

I think when you start drinking wine, if you’re like me, you start with the domestic stuff. It’s simply always been easier for me to get ahold of Californian wine here in California than anything else.

Easy first stop is, of course, France. They’re just known for wine, the French (oh, you knew that already? sorry). I found my way next, to Italy. Then Portugal. Then Spain. Spanish wine is still something I’m wrapping my head (palate, actually) around.

For instance, I really don’t like Priorat. At all. But whenever I try it, I keep feeling like, somewhere out in my future is the Priorat that will turn me on to Priorat. Aren’t I supposed to like high-alcohol powerbombs? I am American, after all.

This Vina Mein from D.O. Ribeiro is a good example of something I don’t fully understand. It’s a blend of a half dozen grapes that, until trying this, I had never had before, plus azal tinto. I feel like that’s almost criminal. The wine is 80% treixadura, 10% godello, 5% loureiro, and “1% to 2% each” of albarino, torrontes, albillo, and caino (aka azal tinto).

The wine is almost clear in the glass, but there is a bit of yellow, and the lightest hint of green. Yeah, green. The nose of the wine is outdoors… it smells like flowers after a spring rain, like wet stone and like linens drying on a line. The palate doesn’t offer up a lot that stands out immediately. There’s a bit of fresh mint and other herbs in here… all bright and clean. The wine is light-bodied and smooth, but not particularly crisp.

Mostly mineral and herb, the wine is something I hope to like better in the future. It’s hard to tell in situations like this whether the wine is good or bad, or if it’s just something too new to me.

To be fair, how many people have had wines made predominantly of treixadura (aka trajadura)?

Verdict: B

2008 Bodegas Vina Mein Ribeiro Blanco

2008 Bodegas Vina Mein Ribeiro Blanco