This post was written while I was on the road – Day 2 – in Spain two weeks ago.

Now, where was I? Ah, yes… Leaving the car in its ‘hiding place’ and deciding to walk all of 5 minutes from my hotel to my hosts at Clos Figueres earlier this morning, I am happy to be in a quiet town where the only obstacles in my path are not even dog poop (Barcelona), but mama gatos protecting their kittens as I, an unexpected intruder, walk past. I guess on the directionals, hoping my inner compass will guide me to my destination. Luckily, it does.

At Clos Figueres I find Jaume, winemaker extraordinare, who has been at the winery for three years. We speak largely in Espanol, me understanding mucho, pero hablando muy mal. I learn that they use three different fermentation vats – stainless, fiberglass, and barrels. Each has their call of duty, depending whether the intended wine is for a more approachable, fruit forward offering that lends an ‘introduction’ to consumers, or the more complex wines for which the Priorat is famous.

I had hoped to video tape my time at Clos Figueres with the young expert winemaker/Master Sommelier Jaume, and Miguel, the wine manager. But our conversation was largely in animated spanglish; they both nodded enthusiastically at my very rusty Spanish and, thankfully, my Spanish training meant I could understand nearly all of what they were communicating. Was I romanced? Absolutely. Am I always romanced by the Priorat? No. It is historically a region that I quite love, but my love/hate price-point/value rationalism keeps things real.

Clos Figueres, like many of their elite neighbors, produces wine meant to age. Of course, they produce a wine that is more ‘accessible’ or fruit forward, knowing that many do not have the patience or wallet size these wines demand. They also produce a gorgeous white blend (Font de la Figueres) that is largely Viognier – a varietal that was mistakenly sent to proprietor Christopher Cannan when he set up shop in 1997; fortunately, the Priorat proved an interesting and worthwhile testing ground. I’m sipping the 2009’s worthwhileness while I write (my hosts were too kind in allowing me to take a couple of bottles with me to enjoy at my hotel later, to see how they would open, or evolve with a bit of oxygen in their ‘lungs’).

For the sake of argument, I just re-poured the second offering: the 2006 Clos Figueres red. It was a gem, arguably in its prime, even freshly uncorked this morning; now its anticipated chewy black plum and black raspberry (fraboise) fruit, with an edge of strawberry leaf, forest floor (sabroso…), dried herbs, bittersweet chocolate and black pepper spice flourish even more. Yet, I know it will continue to open and deliver even more.

Jaume used his pepito (plastic theif) to “steal” a bit of wine from each of the 2010 barrels enjoying their siesta (pre-aging/bottling) in barrels below the alfresco tasting porch so I could taste them each au natural. What an experience! This is the sort of opportunity that drives home the essence of varietal expression. Grenache is uniquely Grenache, with natural variation depending on the vineyard site; but at the end of the day, a Granny Smith apple is too tart to be called Macintosh just like Grenache is too red-berry fruited to be called Mouvedre, a more smoked meat, gamey, blueberry/redberry fruit flavored varietal. How varietals work together is what makes a particular Clos stand out in their efforts (aka when to pick, in what vessel one should ferment each varietal, and later, what balance of grapes will comprise the final wine).

Clos Figueres delivers an authentic expression of the Priorat. Their reds are structured but elegant, chewy but savory, juicy but teeth-sinking. If you can get your hands on a 2006 (or have one in your cellar) this is the time to uncork!

Wondered where I’ve been? March was largely spent downtown or throughout Cambridge at various venues set up for trade folks to taste hundreds of wines, both those entirely new to market and also and equally important, newly released vintages of old friends. It was a more rigorous spring tasting season on “the circuit” (as we wine professionals call it) than last year, I hate to admit it.

Meanwhile, I was preparing for my trip (now in motion…) to Spain, where I have been visiting what I call Cava Country, more formally known as Penedes, and also the Priorat.

My travels began a couple of days ago with Marc Picon at Pares Balta, which  proved more than I could have imagined, even knowing in advance that this is a fourth-generation run estate that has embraced organic viticulture since The Beginning, well before it was of interest or marketable to do so. They also operate in what is now a national Park.

When I arrived, Marc, my congenial on-sight host and the estate’s Export Manager, explained that Pares Balta’s main priority isn’t showcasing the “music” behind their work in the winery when they are introducing people to Pares Balta (and yes, they make many, many different wines); rather they are focused on the land. I smiled and nodded a bit when he said this, because if you’ve taken a trip to any winery worldwide, I’m sure you, too, have heard the owner, winemaker or staff talk about the importance of terroir. Not to undermine their work or the sincerity of these statements, but I have to say, Pares Balta really does relish the earth and the natural course of things in an extreme way (and the result is extremely tasty!).

To explain better, Marc and I jumped in his SUV and began our “15 minute” journey up into the mountains where the Pares Balta vineyards are located, as I mentioned, now in a National Park. Yes, it is that serious. And yes, the ride was even more colorful than one of those Super Bowl SUV ads where you see trucks bouncing along easily over fallen logs, up cliffs and over boulders. If I could have taken a picture of it, I would have – but we were literally bouncing too much for me to capture the moment and video would have made any viewer nauseous.

Our first “stop” up the vigorous terrain was to the Pares Balta beehives. A costly undertaking, no doubt, PB has a beekeeper on staff to further support cross-pollination of the vines of course, but not just so they flourish; rather, so that the entire community flourishes, imparting natural, enhanced flavors in the wine. For example, the rosemary bushes growing alongside the trail flower. This flavor profile is gently communicated to the vines as the bees carry out their natural work. Brilliant. Nature helping nature help us.

Marc employed a terrific approach to best share both the Pares Balta way and what makes Penendes unique. We didn’t just bound up the mountain and look out the window. Instead, we stopped at various, specific vineyard sites to taste certain wines alongside the river in one case, and at the top of the mountain, in another. At each stop you could literally feel the change in climate, the quality of “freshness” in the air, the amount of (or lack of) wind, etc.. What makes Penendes so special was poignant and palpable: the varied terrain (a vivid mix of plots of clay literally across the path from plots of chalk) and microclimates.

What was perhaps most compelling to me was the hands off/hands on approach PB employs. They fully embrace what nature delivers on its own, and yet they don’t hesitate to employ (or encourage nature along?) either. Case in point, they use pheromones at the edge of the vineyards site as a natural ‘turn off’ to butterflies (the wind carries the “off-putting” scent down the rows), encouraging them to go ‘play’ in someone else’s vineyards. It’s one way to avoid pesticides and let the fruit mature unhindered by pests.

Tasting through many of Pares Balta’s wines was its own experience. Their range is from traditional Cavas, to rare single varietal bottlings that capture both the essence of the grape and also, critically and as expected, of the vineyard site’s terroir and aspect. As a case in point, Marc enthusiastically offered me a tasting of one of their rarest wines, a dry Gewurtztraminer. It was possibly the most varietally expressive Gewurtz I have ever experienced. (Yes! This grape is incredibly rare to Spain and more often found in Europe’s Germany and Alsace; the spice in the wine literally poked at my taste buds! But no, their production is ever-so-small, and therefore will never reach our New England shores.)

In addition, Marc enthusiastically designed a taste-off between two pairs of wines. The first was of two Garnacha’s from two different vineyard sites. Their flavors were of like family, but certainly of distinct breeding: 2008 Hisenda Miret, a more rugged, gamey beast that tamed willingy as it opened; and the 2008 Indigena, a fruit forward, approachable Garnacha with the flare of a rosey-cheeked flamenco dancer.

The second taste-off was between two Tempranillos hailing from two different clones, one wine was made from the local Penendes grape Ull de Lebre, and the other from a Pares Balta project in a much farther region, Ribera del Duero. The Absis is a Tempranillo-based wine that delivered a surprising helping of stewed plumbs, golden raisin, orange rind, blackberry and brighter raspberry fruits, with intense herbs and purple flowers, while the Ribera wine showed more masculine muscle, wet soil, fine dried herbs and baker’s chocolate flavors.

Long story short, I could have stayed all day! But appointments in the equally world-reknowned Priorat region beckoned….

We’re having schizophrenic weather (again) here in Beantown this late fall/early winter. Monday it was 53 degrees. Today we’re capping out at 25, and it was bitterly cold last night. Someone said they heard it was “March weather” because it is all over the map. Whatever. It’s Boston. It’s always all over the map. But this year I can’t complain, since we’ve had an absolutely ridiculously terrific weather year. Besides, I’m happy shopping at Wilson Farm for all the gourds and root vegetables that are prolific this time of year. Stuffed squash? Check. Pork tenderloin with Port-glazed brussel sprouts? Check. Hearty chicken soup? Check.

In the wine scheme of things accordingly, it’s true, I’ve had a good run in the Languedoc finding wines for “warmer” Fall days and that go easy on the wallet. But with the smell of winter in the air, I’m thinking more and more about Spain. It’s a winemaking nation that’s impossible to synopsize because it is a country that has a great history in wine production, but today is one that looks to modern times (and palates) for guidance. As a result, it is arguably the Old World Mecca for innovation.

Ever heard of Samso? That’s ok, it’s just an alternate, local name for Grenache, which comprises the full 100% of fermented juice in a wine made by Clos de Noi. These folks are based in Montsant, one of my favorite nooks in Spain (and one I plan to visit next year). Carles Escolarhas is the winemaker behind this floral, intensely concentrated, fruit forward, teeth-sinking red. Ripe blackberry, black raspberry and bramble fruits, are accented with a touch of spice and Montsant’s increasingly sought, slatey minerality. Personally, I love the Clos de Noi all the more for its long, seductive finish.

There are plenty of places in Spain (Rioja, for example) that will warm you up this winter. But if you are a particular fan of big, bold reds with plenty of nuance – or even Priorat, Montsant’s better known (pricier) neighbor – than this is an area for you to explore this winter.

What wines are you enjoying as our temps drop and we head into winter?

The New England Patriots got the nod this year to play opening week’s Monday Night football – as it happened, not just on a gorgeous night in Mass., but with the re-introduction of Tom Brady to the line-up. (Yeah, we’ve lost a few of our key defenders; but we still have Belichik. And we still have one of the top QBs in the league, even if he is a little banged up and not my personal favorite beyond the playing field.)

What’s a girl to do on such a momentous night? Make pizza. From scratch. And enjoy exceptional wine(s) – during the preparation process and throughout the meal!  What better excuse do you need to open two of the most highly sought and difficult to find wines in our market: Spencer Roloson Grenache Blanc and Grenache Noir? (Note, the former was enjoyed throughout the preparation process and the latter for the meal and game time festivities!)

Last Spring my “buddies” Dorothy Gaiter and John Brecher wrote about the Grenache phenomenon in the US. I was thrilled by their musings. Yet, the only two Grenaches I’ve really been completely thrilled with coming out of the California winemaking community are both executed by Spencer Roloson. And they are hard to get your hands on!

Their Grenache Blanc is, quite simply, a rare treat. It is robust, lush, fleshy/fruity (think quince, citrus and pears) – almost perfect for Chardonnay drinkers looking for something different or unique, but more for the nerd drinker in each of us because of its incredible layers and unsuspecting earthiness. It’s one of those wines every person I’ve ever introduced it to has enjoyed, no matter their usual wine drinking habits. It is a true, special and quasi-celebratory wine because it is so difficult to find and oh-so-satisfying on so many levels.

Their Grenache Noir is also a wine of true grace and panache… that’s also a “teeth sinker”. It is freaking delicious (a technical term…), offering concentrated red berry fruit with some herbs and a sprinkling of burnt orange peel. It finishes bittersweet, like the chocolate. YUM. This wine was a really nice, luscious pairing with our pizza topped with rosemary roast chicken, fresh pineapple, buffalo mozzarella, black pepper and basil. I wish it was 24 hours ago now, as I write this post….

Suffice to say, we’re now officially in Football Season. I like a good beer with my  ball. But a great wine – or two – is far more memorable. Cheers to Sundays!

What’s your go-to Football wine?

I was channeling Disney and Belle a couple of weeks ago. Today I envision a Greek god named Minervois. Except the name  “Minervois”, a small sub-region of the Languedoc in France,  actually comes from the village of Minerve. Who knew? Because when I re-tasted an old favorite from this area, I wasn’t just pleased with the result, it was a near-spiritual experience – for just $13 (retail).

Backing up a touch, Minervois offers the world reasonably priced reds typically comprised of Grenache, Syrah and Mouvedre, perhaps with some Carignan or Cinsault mixed in for good measure. It depends. It’s an experimental part of the world down there. Some wines are purely easy quaffing selections. But others are quite memorable. Typically the latter come from low-yield vines (remember, this means concentrated fruit flavors) in the rocky hills above the plateau.

The 2006 vintage of Chateau Coupes Roses Minervois La Bastide was a wine I first tasted nearly two years ago. I remember it having very floral notes and a tannic structure. It was very good, but it needed either food or a few breaths of fresh air to come alive and loosen up a bit. Perhaps both. Several weeks ago I happened to retaste this same vintage. Holy canolies. The extra bottle time served this wine well! If you can get your hand on a bottle (or several) I highly recommend it because it is tasting out beautifully right now. I saw the imaginary god Minervois, I’m not kidding.

To paint you a clearer picture, the Bastide is comprised of Grenache and Carignan with a touch of sultry Syrah. Today I find those same enticing floral aromatics from two years ago, with violets and juniper coming through most clearly. Tasting it is also like taking a dip in my spice rack! Sage and marjoram flow on the palate, with accents of resin and other earthy notes chiming in. It’s the lush, fleshy- smooth, velvety blanket of black raspberry, plum and strawberry fruit that leaves you breathless, however.  The wine finishes with mouthwatering acidity, like a little wave washing onto the shore.

Imagine my delight when I popped over to Aquitaine in the South End last week and discovered this wine is available by the glass. It really is a savory wonder, absolutely delightful on its own and, of course, a good match for their beet salad, steak, lamb or chicken dishes. If you think you’ll have more than one glass (and I suspect any wine-sipping citizen might), just treat yourself to the bottle!

Do you enjoy Minervois? What selections are in your “cellar”?