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: 84/100