This post was written while I was traveling in Spain last week.

To say the Priorat expresses itself on the drive in, up and curving painstakingly through the mountains is one thing. Certainly. As I write (after a day of exploring this part of the Priorat and tasting at Clos Figueres – more on that later), I’m perched in my semi-private patio, overlooking life as the 240 person town of Gratallops knows it – children (all of them?) playing on the basketball court below not more than 100 feet from me, the quiet office of my hotel and the cellars (Onyx) they run, and the “parking lot” – a lucky plot of land not more than 1200 square feet with a place for you to turn off the engine without worry one of the narrow former cow path roads will lend itself to some sort of collision while you rest in the dormitory more or less above.

Purple flowers are in bloom while the vines are still largely dormant, with just a few buds appearing in the fairly warm, temperate spring air. The ground is a bright green, that is where grass is poking through, hanging in there for just a few weeks before the ever-warm sun cooks it to browness in the absence of rain.

Whereas Penendes was an amalgam of soil types, the Priorat is nearly completely (frighteningly, re: drive) terraced licoricella, or a sandy/rocky slate. Here in the lower Priorat at least, it is largely Grand Canyon orange-red. Olive (dark green) and almond (lighter green) trees are scattered throughout the vineyards. Visually they add a natural texture and romantic call to the landscape.

A vinous comparison? There is not really one. You could stretch to the complexity and arguably ‘fierce’ structure (well balanced but more tannic) wines of Bordeaux, but the fruit forward, teeth-sinking, chewy wines of Chateauneuf du Pape (last year’s trip) are perhaps better comparisons – at least one of the primary grapes used in both their reds is one in the same: Garnacha/Grenache.

The most fascinating thing – the thing that becomes particularly self-evident once you visit a wine region such as this – is that you can taste the terroir. It is visceral, it is not really something you can put your finger on, but it is very apparent. You “see” the red slate as you taste, the texture (fine tannin) is as animate as touching the soil, the olive and almond trees, the purple flowers…. The downright freshness of this place is alive in the wine. The best wineries (I think, humbly) capture this local essence no matter where you are. In Priorat you gather a survival of the fittest, but a sleepy-town (quiet) elegance as well…..

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….

I’ve never traveled to Italy for the purpose of wine tasting and so have yet to experience the Alto Adige region personally. Perhaps just through tasting wines from this region I believe it to be one of the most romantic places on earth. The area is uniquely situated between the North and the South, benefiting from the cool air of the Alps and the warm Mediterranean sun. Micro-climates and unique soil types abound throughout. It is a situation that is set up for greatness.

A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of joining a few colleagues out to dinner at Upstairs on the Square. My direct colleague and I remember enjoying our respective meals, but really we found ourselves fixated on our wine experience thereafter. And so we did everything we are lucky to be empowered to do: we bought the wine we enjoyed so much and put it on our shelves.

Naturally, as diligent professionals, we hem and haw a bit before we bring in just about any wine. There are only a couple of  ‘slam dunks’ that cross our path every month. And, in the case of our dinner wine,  we’re talking about a selection that retails for $50.  This price point is an entirely different playing field. We have to be WOWed. And wowed we were! The Lageder “Krafuss” Pinot Noir is an exceptional wine, and one that I’m happy to fork over the bigger bucks for with some regularity – well, given the right company or occasion as wines of this caliber should be shared.

Last night I had a really good excuse to open Krafuss once again: my best friend’s birthday. He had duck with a prune Port gastrique and I had scallops with black quinoa, prosciutto and a citrus salad.  Both worked quite well with the wine, in part because our respective meals complemented different notes in this delightfully complex wine.

Smooth and supple, it delivers a perfumed nose of roses, slightly smoked meats, and a mixture of sweet citrus, ripe cherry, cranberry and mascerated strawberry fruits – and a hint of dried ones as well. The palate translates directly, with a slight accent of orange rind and an underpinning of turned earth coming through as well. It was interesting to see how my meal with the savory prosciutto (smoked meats), citrus salad (orange rind) and black quinoa (turned earth) directed my attention to these notes particularly well in the wine while my friend experienced the dried fruits, including dates, apricots and prunes, in a more pronounced way (prune Port gastrique).

Once again Lageder’s Krafuss delivered a true wine experience. It is a wine you keep coming back to, putting your nose in it, tasting it thoroughly as it continues to open and re-deliver happiness. It is one of those rare wines I have no problem pacing myself on, because the experience of it overtime, with food and without, continues to enrapture; I don’t want to sacrifice one moment of it!

A few additional fun facts: Lageder has been up to such good for 175+ years. They are wholly committed to letting nature do the hard work, using modern techniques only if  they will further impress the flavor of the terroir and grapes in each of their offerings. And whatever your beliefs, this outstanding vin is also organic and biodynamic. It is part of the Tenutae Lageder line, which gathers fruit solely from their own estate.

Now that it’s February and I’ve done a decent job of depleting my in house wine collection, I’m back to buying them. And for whatever reason I can’t quite explain, the last few weeks I’ve found myself bringing home more and more Italian red wines. While there are certainly many ‘giving’ Italian reds made (“giving” meaning they need very little time to open up as they are fruit forward and generally just kind of easy going) I realized I’ve inadvertently fallen prey to the over-simplified idea that all Italian red wines go best with pasta, hard cheese or red meats – three categories that I just don’t consume through the normal course of things (allergies are to blame!).

This perception is certainly perfectly accurate in its own right. Just as there are giving Italian reds, there are others that are less giving. These are much bigger, structured wines that really are most delightful when they are given ample time to open up (let the tannins soften, the fruit integrate with all the other lovely herbal and terciary flavors, etc.) AND when they have a hearty food match to work in tandem with the structure and flavor of the wine. Patience and some forethought about what’s for dinner go a long, long way. A decanter never hurts either.

God love them, this month vendors in our network have been bringing both hidden gems and well-regarded, more elite styles of Italian reds by the Tasting Station for us to suss out. One of my new loves? Schiava.

I’m sure I’ve chatted about Elena Walch in prior posts as she’s one of the most highly regarded female winemakers in the world. Her wines hail from the northern Alto Adige region of Italy. I have yet to taste one that isn’t well made and delicious. Leave it to her to make and export a grape (Schiava) that almost never leaves the country! Her 2009 bottling of this grape (said Ski-ah-vah) is the only one I’ve ever tasted; it immediately won me over. My first tasting notes read: “wow! This is a red Burgundy wine lovers delight with an almost Pinot Noir-like levity and texture and a nice focus of ripe cherry and black fruit (boysenberry, blackberry). Love the feminity, florals and subtle Italian nuance.”

It’s fun to get away from the same old same and enjoy something somehow familiar but new, isn’t it? And this one can pair with myriad things, from pork tenderloin topped with cranberry sauce or a mustard vinaigrette, roasted or fire-grilled eggplant and mushrooms with a balsamic glaze, even to tuna steak with a side of garlic roasted red potatoes. Manja!

In my last post I mentioned that sometimes I ‘gift’ myself wine. Over Thanksgiving last year, this was one such occasion; I traveled for the holiday and knew I’d be spending time with a larger group with varying wine tastes and so I brought crowd-friendly wines I thought they would enjoy. For myself, I tucked away one of my favorite wines, the 2006 Kurt Angerer Pinot Noir, and anticipated opening it around the holiday with another friend who is just as enthused about it as I.

Suffice to say, life got in the way and Kurt hung out in my wine fridge a little longer than I anticipated – I just pulled the cork last weekend.

This wine hails from the Kamptal region of Austria – a region that is challenged to produce exceptional red wines in any given year because the climate is so demanding. Vintage really matters. I’ve been sipping on Angerer’s 2006 Pinot Noir for more than a year now and have enjoyed it all the while; but today I think it is tasting exceptionally well (though sadly, I fear not only that there may be no more left in the market but also that he did not produce another Pinot in 2007). This is a wine that is enjoyable out of the gates but truly benefits from decanting.  I took a quick taste upon opening it and then after three hours, I enthusiastically grabbed my glass and put my nose back to task.

The wine is so “pretty” I just kept breathing it in: roses, lavender and violets linger over fruit buoyed by aromas of smoked meats. These elements translate to the palate seamlessly, with a hint of mushroom and leather playing a note or two in addition. Its intense core of fruit really fleshes out when given time to aerate, delivering crushed cranberry and a whisper of dried cranberry fruit flavors, plus black raspberries and mascerated cherries, and a blink of tart, earthy rhubarb. Fine black pepper spice and a thread of savory charcuterie really come through on the long finish. An unfiltered wine, the texture is silky with oh-so fine tannins; the slight drying note makes the wine a better companion to food perhaps, but I find it did not at all detract from my enjoyment after the chicken marsala was long gone!

Yum.