By AJ Bafer
A glass of 13-month Cava beside Alta Alella's logo. In the background, a Land Rover Defender rolls out of the winery.
“This one is for a nice meal, sitting down,” Chavi says, showing off a sleek bottle of rosé aged a few years before delicately tucking it into a sleeve.
The bottle is just one in a collection of wines for sale on the wall behind him. The shop, cresting a hill above Alta Allela’s rolling rows of grapevines and aging containers, holds an impressive array for the casual wine enjoyer between its white, red and sparkling varieties.
Chavi, evidently enjoys sharing the winery’s collection with the world. Having worked there for just over a year, he’s also aware that the store’s selection barely scratches the surface of the rich stock Alta Alella has to offer.
Between the vines, the droning of cars and the buzz of bars cannot be found; just the distant yapping of a dog somewhere on the property, a flooring view of the coast and the feeling of having been transported to a more refined time.
“The natural order”
The plot holding Alta Alella's first vineyard overlooks the Mediterranean Sea.
Once through the Alta Alella’s electronic gate, Chavi introduces and dashes Agustin, who was only just ripe enough to start giving tours this year. He’s only worked a month, but Chavi says he’s “married to the wine” already.
Agustin’s affinity is reflected in his knowledge. Weaving through the vineyard’s neat collection of plants that stretch to the sea, he points to an inconspicuous hill obstructing the Mediterranean.
He says it’s an Alpine vineyard and the wine project’s first hectare, adopted in 1991 by owners Josep Maria and Cristina and dating back to 1957. The estate, Can Genís, originated in the 19th century.
Josep Maria planted another hectare, followed by a few, and another handful. Then, he waited a decade. Alta Alella had its first production of wine by 2001.
As if it were not already obvious, Agustin says they prefer methods of “minimal intervention,” staying true to the method’s purest products.
“We follow the natural order,” he says.
They’re part of a modern-wine revolution based on combining tradition and innovation.
Wine Over Time
Up close and personal with a grape leaf during May, just over a few months before it will be ripe for the picking.
Winemaking arrived in Spain with the Phoenicians near 1,000 B.C., further refined with the landing of the Romans. After production dipped in the 8th century due to the region being disrupted during the Arab invasion, Spanish wine would not find its stride until the discovery of the New World.
Spanish wine’s story is one of resilience. Despite the Muslim occupation’s strain on drinking culture as a result of differing cultural practices, Spain’s wine industry once again blossomed after it was spared the brunt of a phylloxera fungus spread that ravaged most of Europe’s vineyards in the 1800s; around the same time the estate Alta Alella is built upon was first established.
French winemakers flocked to the Iberian Peninsula, spreading word of appreciation for Spanish vineyards’ versatility and blending the best of the mountains and the sea. They brought new tools, methods and grape varieties with them.
Spanish staying power is embodied by Alta Alella. With the reincarnation of wine’s progressive minds centuries ago, the winery refuses to stay content with its techniques while relying on the natural aids of old.
Innovation That Ferments
The winery's plant stock neighbors the sea, reaping its nutritional benefits and developing distinct properties.
Pointing to the slate gray horizon, Agustin reveals how Alta Alella’s closeness to the coast is intentional. The salted wind defines a walk-through, both refreshing and pivotal to preventing disease in the plants by inhibiting humidity. The ocean breeze lends itself to the wine’s special flavors and aromas, he explains – as utilized by the migrant winemakers before them.
The soil, granitic sand, is porous and lends itself to this philosophy by staying dry on top. It forces the winery to dig deep to ensure its wine is still packed with nutrients.
“The constant work of the vineyard gives us real quality,” Agustin says.
Not just quality, but novelty. In 2007, Alta Alella created the first natural sparkling wine in Spain, he says with pride he cannot hide.
Clay pots, wooden barrels and a bottling machine litter one of Alta Alella's storage rooms.
Modern reinterpretation is their specialty. Past the gardens, Agustin opens the door to the winery’s storage rooms. In the dark cover of the den, he gestures to the clay barrels housing their natural, sulfite-free orange wine, another rare commodity limited to only a couple thousand bottles.
But their most important grape is Pansa Blanca, Alella’s native variety and one of Spain’s oldest and most exclusive. It is the base for 80% of their production; while crafting more whites than reds (about 75% of production), the rouge varieties are made from the growingly popular Syrah and Monastrell grapes, among other smaller variants like chardonnay.
Many bottles will sit idle in the shadows for 30 months, aged to exquisiteness.
“This is really something special for us,” a light-deprived silhouette of Agustin says. “The sparkling in Spain is important because it’s a lot of years of tradition.”
The Fruits of Dedication
A row of wine lies in waiting, just bottled.
Every September, when bright, ripe rows signal the arrival of harvest time, the compound begins three months of grape picking. Each strain has a different harvest time depending on its composition, each painstakingly developed for a unique product.
Selections vary from their signature Cava, Agustin’s favorite, to the oldest wine on-site; aged about 20 years, from Josep Maria and Cristina’s first batch and preserved in small quantities.
“The traditional method is really special,” Agustin says, paying respect to the organic process. “The flavors, the aromas, it’s great.”
A small selection of Alta Alella's wine sits for sale beside a tasting area ripped right from a fairytale.
Sure, the idyllic scenery and endless stream of the good stuff make continuing the Spanish wine tradition an object of paradise. But it is anything but light work for Agustin and his co-workers. Quality creates high demand.
Through the hecticness of buzzed wine tasters desperate to get their hands on a bottle post-tour, Chavi owes the winery’s dedication to a basic truth.
“People want to drink good wine,” he says, his smile cutting through the mania.
As long as wineries like Alta Alella are preserving and building upon Spain’s sweet history, no one will be left thirsty.
Comments