I see you too ... the London Dry Gin reimagined as a Spaniard

A crisis of identity? 

I happily drowned in a sea of gin tonics during my time in Spain. Budgeting for a healthy stock of gins and tonic waters meant meals were often reduced to eggs, lettuce, and rice, but we have to make sacrifices for what we love, don't we. And thus went my education - or rather, obsession - with the gin tonic. This one, Gin Sea, a London Dry Gin-styled gin distilled in Galicia, Spain by a well-known sommelier, Manuel Barrientos. Bright, fresh, with a slight herbal bitterness on the finish - makes a gin tonic that's incredibly clean, with enough complexity to keep things interesting. Garnish with a lime wheel and sprigs of fresh thyme.

What does it mean, for a drink to be from somewhere? Is it the provenance of the ingredients that decide its origin? The production method/traditions? In the end, what we don't give enough credit to is simply the tastes and preferences of the distiller - the creator, if you will. Alcohol, in particular, is not natural, despite what the marketers want you to believe. No, it's a product that is the result of human intervention and manipulation, to create a drink that fits a certain taste. Hopefully, we would want that taste to be good ... to be a representation of what the creator (distiller, winemaker, etc.) thinks is of high quality ... before we assign labels to it. The romantic old world notion of a drink's origin actually meaning anything is gone. Dead and gone, let's get that clear right now. We are now in the world of creators, who create drinks in their image first.

Of course, there are those who remain champions of the old ways, those peasants in Burgundy, the country gentlemen (and women) of the Moselle ... but what a minority. What a dying breed of heroes. Few now are cut from that cloth, and you know what? Consumers have a responsibility in this masse rejection of tradition in favour of 'commercial' products. Products with mainstream appeal. Dead, soulless, meaningless drinks that tease you with promises of profundity, but eventually reveal themselves to be cheap distractions. And consumers eat that shit up. They want wines and spirits that are easy to drink - that horrible, horrible phrase born of the mass commercialization of alcohol beverages. And the traditionalists, the old-timers? They trudge on, supported by an increasingly smaller group of enthusiasts who may not have profound knowledge, but certainly possess great appreciation for the drink. How do we reverse all this?

I like Gin Sea a lot. I like this project a lot, and as I've said before, idealism counts for naught if what you're producing tastes like shit. And this gin is delicious. So maybe to answer this question of identity, that's really all we have to consider for now - that someone is doing something unique and of high quality.

The rest, well ... we'll leave discussions about what origin means to the marketers.

DF

the sherries that are just a bit more

I promise to stop bitching about my job hunt.

As a friend said, in between handfuls of M&M's ... guys, it's not about the destination, it's about the journey. We'd all like to think that, wouldn't we. In any case, it's a good philosophy, easily applicable to many things. Including wine marketing. I was asked what I would do to boost slowing sales growth of traditional wine brands - the kind of brands that were once moving well, but are now boring and old-fashioned. We're constantly looking for the next best thing, so how do we keep old brands alive? The answer - one I should have expressed clearer when I was asked - is simply marketing fundamentals. Who are your customers? What are your targets/KPI's? Getting solid data will let you decide your marketing mix. Is digital/social the answer? In my opinion, no. Not for traditional brands. What is then? Today's wine drinkers are savvier than ever, and far more adventurous than mature consumers. But if we're not using digital to reach them, because let's be real, digital won't solve this problem, how do we find these consumers, engage them, and keep them coming back to these brands? We do two things, both with a mind to engage new and mature consumers, as well as to leverage the vast amount of data available. Firstly, it's all about going small. With the data we have now, we can create ever more customized, smaller marketing campaigns that are targeted to the specific niches being served by each brand. Secondly, these smaller campaigns allow for brands to be presented in the way they were meant to be - intimately, making them unforgettable.

Last year this week, I was happy. I was midway through my second internship, in Zaragoza, and taking advantage of their annual week-long summer vacation, I was back in Barcelona. Nothing but sun, long runs to the beach, dinner and drinks with friends. Never, not for a single minute, was I ungrateful for the summer I was having - the opportunity to do wine-related projects that I loved, meeting super cool people outside of the MBA. Having the time of my life, as they say. I drank this pair ... and what an incredible find. Equipo Navazos is a project that looks for rare and excellent soleras, bottling them in limited quantities. Story here. Very hard to find, and while not priced aggressively, they certainly aren't in-expensive either. Incredibly interesting, unique wines, that I feel fortunate to have tasted. The first, the 2010 La Bota de Florpower Nº 53 "Más Allá - a non-fortified palomino, essentially a vintage manzanilla, aged under flor but with no brandy added. As you can see, it's labelled MMX ... something about a regulatory issue preventing them from vintage labelling. Bright, pure, expressive with lots of dry extract and texture. A powerful example of what this varietal can do as a table wine. The second, the La Bota de Manzanilla (42) - shades of the same colour. Tensile and vivid minerality, with great concentration and focus on the palate. Almost hard to describe, the pair of them. I hope 'wow' suffices.

I have grandiose plans in wine. In wine marketing and brand management. I just need a chance now to prove it. Thinking about the summer I had in Barcelona and the steps I've taken since to get here ...

DF

some really cool stuff. like real cool.

The wine scene in Barcelona can be pretty cool, if you know where to look. One shop that's a favourite of mine is Vila Viniteca - well worth the journey to El Born. Last summer, for dinner at a friend's, I wanted to bring some interesting bottles. Whether we would like them or not was sort of not the point. We just wanted to drink some cool shit. This one, the Battliu de Sort Biu Blanc from the Costers del Segre DO, was certainly one of them. A blanc de noirs made from 100% pinot noir, all those aromatic, floral pinot notes in a bone dry, textural style.

Buying French wine in Catalunya? Maybe not a great idea. But this, I couldn't pass. For about 20€, a taste of the earth, the minerals, the sublime elegance of even the most simple country wine.

Mencía, particularly from Riberia Sacra, was one of the great discoveries I made in Spain. What a wine, what a DO. Lithe, mineral, tension filled wines that I wish I could have more of in my cellar.

A gift from a friend who visited Croatia. Sadly, on my list of places I was not able to go to during my time in Europe. Fresh, bright wines that are sublime with grilled meats.

Long weekend here in Canada, as we ease into August. I'm trying not to be demoralized as I continue job-hunting ... trying to stay positive. You have in your head all these great things to do, great contributions to make now that I've earned my MBA. I just want a chance to prove myself - now I need someone willing to take me on.

DF

L'Anima del Vi, delivering truth in wine

T: 2007 Coll de Sabater | DO Conca de Barberà

B: 2012 Lapierre Morgon

It's been a rough week.

There was a wine trade show last week in Düsseldorf called Prowein. I really wanted to go. And if I went, I would have most likely taken a Germanwings flight. I've flown with them before. It's a good airline, and although we are very used to these types of carriers here in Europe, I think it needs to be made clear for my fellow N. Americans that low cost carriers are in fact extremely safe, and (generally) very pleasant to fly with. As more details come out, this whole event becomes more and more unspeakably horrific. It hits close to home, and not because of me - because of the many German classmates I have, who I know have been affected by what happened. 

Monday's news hit like a thunderbolt. On Thursday I was hit by an earthquake. My neighbour (from back home) of nearly 20 years, has been given 6 months to live. He beat cancer once. It came back last summer, and now the doctors have stopped treatment. I don't know what to think. I don't know what to say. He is a good and kind man and doesn't deserve this.

With so much death and suffering around ... I can't handle it. I'd like nothing more than to get out of Barcelona for a few days, go to the beach, get some food, some good drinks ... but that doesn't make this past week make any more sense to me. No enlightenment possible, why these things happen. So I suppose we keep going, keep putting our heads down and charging forward. The only way to go.

L'Anima del Vi is one of my favourite wine places in the world. Yes. Todo el mundo. It's not particularly cozy, it's not totally comfortable, but it's totally honest, and totally unique. The man in the middle of it all? One of the greatest people in wine I've ever met, and someone I'm proud to consider a friend - even if we don't sometimes understand each other. The homie, Benoît, a Frenchman in Spain, bringing in some of the shining lights of biodynamic and natural wine, from his homeland and his adopted country. A while back, when my brother was visiting me over the summer, I took him here, for one boozy evening. We started with a Spanish wine, the Coll de Sabater, a Bordeaux style blend that was at once concentrated and rich, yet harmonious and pure. And then I had to show him the Lapierre Morgon (and share a few glasses with Benoît). Such grace and precision, reminding me why my life will be devoted to this magical, ethereal, mysterious nectar.

It's been a rough week. None of it makes sense. There are no words of comfort, no solace we can find. So for me, I go back and find inspiration in the things that mean the world to me. There is still good in this world, I'm sure of it. Just a little hard to see at this moment.

DF

the national palate

Top: 2012 PdM Moncayo Garnacha & Syrah | DO Campo de Borja

Middle: 2010 Borsao Berola | DO Campo de Borja

Bottom: 2009 Borsao Reserva | DO Campo de Borja

Another guy moved into the flat here in Zaragoza. Full house now at four people. Friday night, I hear a knock on my door - opening it, I see an unfamiliar face. I suppose he wants to introduce himself, but no, he wanted to let me know that I needed to take my chicken out of the oven so he could bake his frozen pizza. Nice to meet you too brah. This morning, I run into him in the kitchen. I say 'sup to him. No answer. Being a polite Canadian, I give him the benefit of the doubt - I shouldn't be talking slang to a vato, so I say 'good morning'. Now he's full on ignoring me, and strutting back to his room like he has an enlarged left testicle. Well fuck you too asshole. 

Back in July, once I knew that I'd be coming to Zaragoza for this project, I wanted to know a bit more about the wines coming out of Aragon. Outside of a few errant bottles of Cariñena, my knowledge and experience of the DO's here was pretty much zero. So I wanted to start with Campo de Borja - El Corte Ingles carried a decent range. I found out later that the company I'm interning with here actually owns Pagos del Moncayo winery, but that's neither here nor there. And so I started drinking, and for a moment, I really couldn't figure it out, but suddenly, a good 8 weeks later, it's hit me what I was trying to articulate. The wines aren't boring - they're simply Spanish.

There's a national palate at work here, I'm convinced. These wines, like so many other Spanish wines from all over the country, just taste the same. At this price range at least, the archetype is so obvious it's almost a bit sinister ... like they're all having a laugh, and I'm the only one who doesn't get it. That slightly overripe, candied fruit, big alcohol, soft, limp structure. Is that simply this wino's perception? Of course it is. What is soft and overdone to me is someone else's rich and delicious. Ok. We certainly have different opinions on these things, but the wines being produced in this country, at this level, taste the same. And that's a bit troubling. As a whole, the overall quality of Spanish wines has improved greatly - but is this where this quality revolution is leading? Monotonous and formulaic wines, all in the name of consistency? If that's the case, it's worse than troubling ... this is flat-out depressing.

But perhaps it's me who's not getting it. The cultural element here - how Spanish people interact with wine - maybe necessitates all that. Wine isn't the be all end all here, as much of the French or Italians do. Wine is simply a piece of the Spanish food and drink culture - as part of a meal, it's simply something to go after the aperitivo and before the cocktails. So they don't need the wines to have complexity, to be nuanced, to have delicacy. Big and obvious flavours seem the way to go - much like the cuisine. 

So don't get too offended when people are rude and the wines boring. Maybe I'm the odd one out.

DF

for the love of drinking

I love to drink. No two ways about it. I like the social aspect of drinking, the ritual of picking out the right bottle, that anticipation leading up to the first sip ... damn I love drinking. Why is that such a bad thing to admit? It's a bit logical, isn't it, for someone who works in the wine trade to also enjoy a few glasses? Apparently not so. Apparently not. People taste all the time now, for work. Living in Spain for a year has shown me the joys of drinking, the true pleasure one gets from the bottle. Binge drinking is a uniquely North American problem because we can't drink during the work week, and we have to organize nights out around designated drivers and early closing times, so nights out always dictate inhaling as much alcohol as you can in 3 hours. Like I said up on that rooftop at Calatrava, I'm never coming back.

Spent a weekend doing touristy things in Zaragoza. Saw the Catedral-Basílica de Nuestra Señora del Pilar, as well as the Catedral del Salvador ... both beautiful, grand monuments to the power of organized religion. At El Pilar, there's actually a little inset cut into one of the columns showing the purported pillar that was graced by the Virgin ... people actually bend down to kiss it. Full on lips. I've learned, after visiting all these churches across the country, that the best, non-offensive, course of action is to stand to the side and try not to make a face. Fascinating though, how physical relics, authentic or not, hold so much meaning to people. Went for a run to Parque Grande José Antonio Labordeta, all the way up these zigzagging stairs and around back down, doing my best Rocky impression. Man it's hot (and dry) here. Better to stay inside and drink.

Two weeks left! Lots of things floating around in my head on how to put together what has turned out to be a consulting project for this company. Oh shit, right, the wines. The Ojo de Liebre, a tempranillo from DO Somontanod. The PdM Moncayo from Pagos del Moncayo winery in Campo de Borja. And the Cariñena, with a decent amount of age considering what I paid for it (5€!!). And a shitload of beer. Good stuff. All good drinks.

DF

the Spanish gin tsunami

Top: Macaronesian White Gin

Middle: Ginbraltar Spanish Dry Gin

Bottom: Gin Mare

Does it really matter what these gins actually are? The specificities? Not really. They're all Spanish, sure. One's from the Canary Islands, one's made by a Spanish chef, the other is what they say the essence of the Mediterranean. Rosemary and all that. Vibrant, fresh, aromatic, and utterly exciting gins. My first real education in Spanish gin. 

I've been in a bit of a rut, writing wise. A huge one, actually. Don't know what to write, how to write. Scared to write the way I want, always thinking of oh, but what if this person sees it and judges me. Can't put down my unfiltered thoughts, can't really do my whole stream-of-consciousness bit, shit, can't even curse. What's it all about then, if I'm doing LCF scared? So let's just write, as bullshit as it all might be, and see where it goes, yeah?

My friend's getting married and I'm here in my room, door closed, watching "Chef" and pounding cans of Guinness 'Special Export'. Fuck. I'm so lucky ... SO motherfucking lucky to be here, to be in Spain, and to be doing what I love this summer. But it's so hard sometimes to be away from friends, especially in these moments when really, I need to be there. So I'm asking the boys to keep me updated via Whatsapp, and well, Waiwai I'm waiting for my shout-out at the reception. In my letter to them, I wrote a lot of things, but the main point, I suppose, was how precious this all was, how sacred. There's such a permanence to getting married, isn't there. A bit scary, at least for this wino. Not that I don't want it ... the tricky bit is to find the right partner. Because growing up is also about understanding yourself, understanding what you and aren't willing to up with. A woman who just fits so naturally in your life, who elevates everything about you ... a rare and precious thing indeed. #laurapreston823

Work has been exciting. Learned so many new things these past few weeks, this real perspective-gaining about wine, about the trade. Lots of romantic ideals shattered, but shit man, that's that real life creeping up on you. Two weeks left, and now's the time to start producing. Let's go get it. 

Oh yeah. The gins. Exceptional examples, all three. I've been asking everyone how this whole gin craze in Spain started, and no one has a single goddamn clue. It just began? Ok, let's just go with that. Whatever its origin, the gins from here, and the gin tonics ... and really, the whole cocktail culture ... out of this fucking world. Of the three, the Macaronesian has fabulous extract on the palate, real force. The Ginbraltar, great spice and citrus notes. And my favourite here, the Gin Mare - so aromatic, the fragrance from the herbs, particularly of rosemary and thyme. Versatile too, making a fantastic martini (garnish with a sprig of rosemary instead of olive), or my wild card, the gimlet. Elegance and great character.

DF

Oliver Conti - the case about a dream

I feel incredibly privileged this summer to be working on two projects. I said from the start that I wouldn't be doing an internship just because right ... well, sometimes patience and stubbornness pays off. It took me until damn near the end of the term, but I did find two projects that fit exactly what I was looking for, and that I could genuinely be excited about. The first one is writing a business case for IESE about a winery in the north of Catalunya, by the French border in a small village called Capmany. Oliver Conti has been in business for 20 years in the DO Empordà, crafting wines from French varietals and pushing for quality in a region that is virtually unknown, even in Spain. The second project will begin in a few weeks, and will be in Zaragoza. But let's talk about this one first.

The wine business is tough, and ever so apparent when you begin seeing it through the perspective of the winery. Margins are thin, negotiating power is tiny ... what is a small producer to do? More marketing/brand-building? But how do you afford it? Go international? But how do you attract distributors who've never heard of the Empordà? Tough. Real tough here.

I visited Oliver Conti last week. What a beautiful place. Right at the foot of the Pyrenees, all sun, wine, and wildness. There is a northernly wind that always blows - it was particularly vicious the day we were there. That's why all of OC's vineyards are planted with a northern exposition, to protect the vines from simply being blown over. A huge wildfire ripped through the region in 2012. You can still see the blackened trees, with entire tracts of pine forests wiped out. OC lost 25% of their vineyards. Nature gives and with the same hand, takes away. They have about 20 hectares of vineyards planted, with high density. For whites, they plant gewürztraminer, muscat, and sauvignon blanc. For reds, pinot noir, cabernet franc, cabernet sauvignon, merlot, and marselan (a cross of cabernet sauvignon and grenache). Aged in French oak, the wines reflect the man behind the brand - elegant, sophisticated, and utterly, utterly sincere.

But how does the wine make me feel? Because really, that's all that matters. All that I really care about, and I wouldn't be up at nearly midnight writing this nonsense if I didn't care. This visit taught me so many new things, in wine and otherwise. First, the power of family. The only thing of importance and significance in this ridiculous world we live in. Second, the need in this industry for vision. The distributors have all the power with setting prices, the kinds of wines they want to carry in their portfolio ... consumers either are slaves to trends or have no goddamn clue what they want ... so what's a winery to do, if there is no vision? With a clear path, a clear idea of what your brand represents - that's the only way to make it. The man behind Oliver Conti, my mentor for writing this case - he taught me all those things. So onto the wines, with the exception of the Marta (a sweet gewürztraminer), tasted at the winery, and again at home over 2 days ...

2013 Treyu: a blend of gewürztraminer and macabeu, aromas of gewürz right away, that tropical, spicy fruit; subtle, very dry on the palate tensile and quite linear; long

2010 Blanc Etiqueta: same gewürz/macabeu blend, with 12 months in new French oak; oak apparent immediately, creamy and quite rich, with an elegant palate; high acid on the finish, bright and very intense

2012 Pinot Noir: Niagara here? Bright red fruits, spice, a brambly character that evokes what I know (and love) so well; not much in way of structure, but high acid and spice, great elegance

2011 Turo Negre: both cabernets in the blend with merlot and garnacha; dark here, earthy, with a bit of that road tar aroma from the cabernet; great freshness and structure, very good here for the price

2011 Ara: a blend of garnacha/cabernet sauvignon; more subdued on the nose, some oak, darker, quieter; very high acidity, fine tannins

2010 Carlota: 100% cabernet franc, very unusual for this region (and Spain); immediately my favourite of the lineup, full cabernet franc character on the nose - slightly green, juicy fruit, fresh and vibrant; pillowy texture while retaining excellent acidity and fine tannins; a gorgeous wine

2010 Negre Etiqueta: same blend as the Turo Negre; some alcohol here, elegant with some tarry, earthy aromas; juicy fruit on the palate, bigger, but remaining elegant; extracted, crunchy finish; an excellent wine

Wow. The character of the Empordà and Oliver Conti shines through the entire lineup. In their words, the seek to achieve two things: aroma and elegance. And boy, do they ever do it. Gorgeous fruit throughout, impeccably balanced, with great acidity and fine structure. French-style wines, perhaps, but retaining that wildness, that absolute beauty of the Costa Brava. I've always been a believer that to fully appreciate a winery is impossible without walking the vineyards, to breathe the same air as the vines. Inspired? Definitely. And motivated, now more than ever, to tell their story.

DF

O Rosal

2012 Terras Gauda O Rosal | DO Rías Baixas

We went out last night for drinks. Many drinks. And towards the end, after all the cava, I wanted something different. Something French. And we found it, a stunning bottle of Arbois-Pupillin, although that's not what I'm going to write about. Rather, I want to moan a little (maybe a lot) about the ubiquity of that cheap style of wine here in Spain, that homogenous style of big, jammy wines that tastes the same, no matter where the grapes come from.

After nearly 11 months here, I have to admit, my opinion of the LCBO has changed quite a bit. Sure I still think they should still tear the whole system down, but they do offer the customer one thing that we don't quite appreciate ... variety. Here in Europe, forget about it, maybe outside of the most urban cities - London, Berlin, etc. Want to buy a French wine in Barcelona, from an AOC that's no more than an hour away? Forget it. You can't even get the industrialized crap here. Only overpriced Bordeaux, and maybe the odd Burgundy, village-level only.

So we're stuck with Spanish wine. And while I love, love, love Spanish wine (my early education in wine), there's also a lot of mediocrity. The ones that really sing, that really stand for something - well, you'll have to pay for the privilege. For everyday wines, let's say 6-10€, there's very little in way of typicity and character. It's all that big, super ripe, fruit-forward wines that are alcoholic and a little sweet, and give the middle finger to what grape varietal they're made out of, much less a sense of place. And that's a shame. Because this bottle taught me that when it's on, Spanish wine remains one of the most interesting, unique expressions of their terroir in the world.

I love albariño, my first experience with Spanish whites. The Terras Gauda, from Galicia, is a blend of 70% albariño, 18% loureiro, and 12% caiño blanco. As described by the bodega, 

... we selected the albariño grapes from the “As Eiras” plots. Due to the excellent ripening during summer, the harvest started 12 days before than usual, beginning of September, with the right autumn sun light and temperatures to produce top-quality must. These conditions remained constant and beneficial to the other varieties such as Caíño Blanco, which were harvested at the beginning of October and Loureiro, end of September. The grapes arrived at the winery with high sugar content in perfect harmony with the acids.

After a separate cold maceration of each variety, traditional fermentation took place at controlled temperatures in stainless-steel tanks. After adding natural yeasts from the vineyards, the wine was cold stabilized, filtered and finally bottled.

A beautiful wine, pouring deep golden, with an almost a slight oxidized look. Mineral, saline, tense ... all those adjectives to describe albariño at its finest, when it just sings of the Atlantic Ocean. Over seafood from La Boqueria, sublime. And here's the really great thing ... the wine was 12.60€. Ok, so still over 10, but a lot of value for that price. Someone tell me why it's sometimes such a struggle to get the same experience without having to play the select one to put in the shopping cart: wine or chicken leg game. 

DF

the modernist

2012 Legaris Roble | DO Ribera del Duero

Really enjoying my summer. Weather's beautiful, sun is shining, birds are chirping ... working on that tan. I've also started working on that business case. Can't reveal all (yet), but it will focus on marketing, branding, and distribution/sales channels. And it's about a winery here in Catalunya. I feel incredibly fortunate to be working on this for the first half of summer. Building knowledge, seeing new things, as they say. And from just our first meeting, some things are already readily apparent.

Spanish wine producers are in a bit of a rough spot. Growth, even locally, is hard to come by. The industry's defining feature is its fragmentation (500 brands producing over 15,000 references), with rebranding and the continual expansion of the product lineup the only way for producers to differentiate. Distributors have enormous power - no surprise - but what's a bit frightening is this sense that there is no urgency to actually present interesting wines to people. If the business is built on what levels of margin are acceptable or not, who is looking out for the small, artisanal producers who make tiny qualities of true, authentic wines, however high (or low) their appellation's prestige is? Am I so green in this industry, so naive, that this is all a bit shocking? Maybe. After all, like in NBA trades, it's all about matching the financials of each player's contracts, and not so much about the actual players themselves. Does there remain a place for idealism in wine, a belief that there is more meaning beyond what margins each tier can receive?!

Legaris is a favourite. I don't drink much Ribera del Duero - something about being a student and heavily in debt. But this is a good introduction to the region, or rather, the more modern side of the region. Still in balance, still with focus ... but nonetheless a modernist. Of course, made with 100% tempranillo grown in alluvial, gravelly, and sandy-loamy soils near the Duero River. For once, let's talk specifics. 2012 was a drought year, but the vintage was saved by rainfalls during two vital periods - shoot elongation, and at the onset of ripening. Harvest took place throughout October, with primary and malolactic fermentation in steel tanks. Further aged for 3 months in American oak, it was then fined with egg whites, filtered, and bottled. For lack of a better term, this is the entry wine of Legaris, to introduce drinkers to the bodega. It's round, it's plushy, with ripe jammy fruit. Well balanced, with slight tannins on the finish to give it precision and texture. Altogether a very well-made, representative wine of Ribera, at a very reasonable price.

Is there a place in the industry for young, hungry people, who still believe they can do something different and positive? Is there room for idealists and dreamers? 

DF

Bobal? Bobal!!

2012 Bruno Murciano La Malkerida Phinca Bobal

We talk a lot about opportunity here. Seizing the moment, as they say. How many times do we really get to see it played out, in real life though? Not that many. Today was one of those days, when things round out, when the viewfinder comes in focus. My summer is finally in place. I will work for IESE for the first half, helping a professor write a business case and teaching note about his winery. In the second half, I will be moving to a town called Zaragoza, to work with a wine exporter. Exciting projects all around.

I'm reminded that sometimes wine, like opportunities, isn't so much about what's obvious, what seems to be the most impressive. Whatever that means. It took me since January to really figure this internship out - what I really wanted out of this summer, what project (and company) would be my best fit. And I suppose it's a little unfair that I can afford to be a little picky at this stage, what with not having any real responsibility. But with patience, perseverance, and really, a lot of providence, sometimes things just work themselves out. So many jobs came up, that seemed interesting at first, but simply weren't right for me. Didn't feel right, and as much as we're taught to be analytical in business school, my intuition, my gut feel, is still a bit part of my decision making process. And so we make those decisions, and plow forward with hope and confidence, and as always, with an eagerness for the unknown and unexpected.

Wine. Let's get back to wine. Have you ever heard of this Spanish varietal called bobal? Did you know that it was the second most planted grape, after tempranillo? Surprises, always surprises and something new to learn. Jancis Robinson does a great job profiling this wine and the people behind it, so I won't repeat it, but I picked up this bottle after tasting the most amazing bottle of bobal, made naturally, from Valencia. This one was fabulous. Lithe and tensile, but with great juicy fruit, some herbal notes to keep it interesting. Gains in depth, broadness with air. At once pure yet seemingly profoundly grounded in the earth. An interesting, interesting wine.

We try to capture these opportunities that speak to us, that touch our heart ... the ones that bring out our idealism and motivate us to change how things are. Same with wine. There should be no status quo. Wine should constantly seek to surprise, to teach, to inspire. Too much to ask for? Not if we give back as much as we take, to contribute to this wonderful, beautiful industry. Here's to a summer of wine.

DF

on the cheap

Top: Bodegas Argüeso San León Manzanilla | Sanlucar de Barrameda
Bottom: Barbadillo Solear Manzanilla | Sanlucar de Barrameda

In honour of the just wrapped-up Sherryfest in San Francisco, a pair of manzanillas that punch above their weight. Great bang-for-back. Or above average price-quality ratio, whatever way you want to say it. Sherry is fairly inexpensive here, although in Barcelona, selection can be a bit wanting. El Corte Inglés does a good job of rotating the brands they carry, so always something new to try. Both, a great example of the difference between fino and manzanilla - just a little bit drier, a little tighter, a bit more focused. Great salinity and precision, both fresh bottles. And freshness counts in manzanilla.

Cheap kinds of fun. But those are always the best. Last night was the Hogueras de San Juan or in Catalan, Fogueres de Sant Joan. The Bonfires of Saint John. Supposedly to celebrate the summer solstice by prolonging the night with bonfires, but in Barcelona at least, it's a free-for-all on the beach with people shooting fireworks into crowds, loud music, and copious amounts of drinking. We ended up having to take a break and take a walk along the water. Shoes wet, feet sandy, but lots of fun.

One last free day today before we start getting serious. Back to work.

DF

a little bit of sun, a little bit of sand

2010 Portal del Montsant Brunus | DO Montsant

Back to wine. Always go back to wine when feeling lost. Back to those things that give us comfort and safety, joy and happiness. Back to wine.

Catalunya - what a discovery (for this wino). At once rich and supple, yet focused and true wines. Unabashedly of that sunshine, that clay and sand and slate. A Spanish wine through and through, politics notwithstanding. Wine is meant to bring us together, not divide us - that most beautiful spirit of friendship and generosity. While these bottles of Montsant may not be overly complex nor sophisticated, they do offer immense pleasure. And that's the only real point of wine.

After nearly 10 months of a rigorous, packed schedule, there's suddenly ... nothing to do. For the next few days at least. Still working out what my summer will look like, but for now, enjoying the sun. Officially moved into my summer flat this Wednesday, a painful and overly laborious affair ... but I'm in, we have the most amazing terrace looking out onto Tibidabo, and yes, I'm going to have the best tan after this summer. Tan all over, man all over as they say. Now that I have some time to myself, will work on the fitness and nutrition. Can't be a winner if you don't fuel like a winner, no? Big things in store this summer guys.

DF

a little artisanal

Top: Cerveza Torquemada 25 | Palencia | Castilla y León | Spain
Bottom: La Zaragozana Ambar Pale Ale 1900 | Zaragoza | Spain

What a day. Settling into life without classes, a short break from academics, but it's the Intensive Spanish course this week. I had forgotten how rough the schedule was, but of course, the last time I did it was last September. Ages. I arrived exactly 10 months ago, and I'm running out of wild expressions to describe how amazing this time has been. Simply spectacular. It took 4 tries today, in a downpour of biblical proportions, but finally moved into my summer flat. New roommates, big terrace looking out onto Tibidabo ... man, this summer is going to be amazing. Missing my best friend already, but as she said, it's only going to be 2 months. Only. 

I need a beer. Is there such thing as Spanish pale ale? Evidently so. Good stuff, all unfiltered, dense and complex. Hoppy without being insistent. We all need a bit of bitterness in our lives, no? Otherwise, where's the joy in the occasional moments of sweet?

DF

a bright star

Estrella Damm Inedit

A glimmer of light is in sight. The wonders of a good night's sleep and strong antibiotics. But I still can't smell/taste anything and I'm suffering. Nightmare. I really don't think I've ever been this bad with a cold, to the point of olfactory failure. And I'm now reminded that appreciation for the little things, like the smell of soap, or tea as you stir in the cream, or even the taste of those cheap muffins I buy for breakfast ... those little things that mean the world.

And let's not even mention the drink. Our operations management class went out to tour the Estrella Damm factory a few months ago. Not much going on inside that day, but they did give us each a bottle of the Inedit, the brew created in collaboration with the Ferran Adrià. The wheat really comes through, the soft texture, some slight herbal notes, something like coriander. Pleasant.

Man, this congestion needs to get over itself. I NEED TO BE ABLE TO SMELL AGAIN!!

DF

in need of a drink

Maeloc Cosecha De Galicia Sidra Extra Ecologica | Galicia

Man, I've got it bad. Been fighting a cold for a bit over a week now, and the chest congestion is just getting out of hand. Ridiculous, really, and I can't remember ever feeling so physically miserable. But when you can't hear anything out of one ear, can't smell jackshit, and coughing uncontrollably, you suck it up and see the campus doctor. Antibiotics and something called Flumil, to clear up the phlegm.

At this point, I think alcohol would do me some good. But for the first time, my sense of smell and taste are completely shot. You could fart in my face (not an invitation) and I wouldn't flinch. This, I still remember though. I love this cider producer. Clean, fresh, yet with all that pickled, bright character of cider. Delicious. Had a long week, lots going on. Summer plans slowly rounding out, finally. One more week remaining in first year. For once, hoping that summer didn't come so soon. Man, lots of firsts this week.

Going to sleep now. Not the long one. Not yet.

DF

cheek and snarl

Tierra de Frontera Porter Piconera | Alcalá la Real
Cerveza Artesanal Tyris Paqui Brown | Riba-Roja del Turia

Spanish label designers win really hard. Wine, beer, cider ... all winners. But does the inside live up to the good first impression? 

Beer, like some of us, shouldn't be subtle. Complexity is overrated here ... you want to hit the palate hard, and stay there. No 'changing in the glass', no 'opening up'. You want it to smack you around a bit, be a bit dominating ... particularly these dark ales. Amongst other things, I really miss the craft beer back home. Sometimes you want that hit of hoppiness, the bitterness that makes your toes curl. It's hard to find those brews here. Brews that don't really allow you to have any food alongside - brews that obliterate everything in their path. These ones are a bit softer. But nevertheless, pleasant.

Monday night was amazing. We went to a seminar given by Dr. Enrique Rojas, discussing some of the frameworks outlined in his new book Vive tu Vida. Very inspiring. And most of all, a reminder that I need to work much, much harder on my Spanish. Followed up last night by IESE Wine & Spirits' last event for first year, a gin tasting with Slow Drink Movement. If the 4 gins and subsequent 4 cocktails didn't get us tipsy enough, we followed the boys to their favourite Italian joint for some pasta, pizza, and wine. Eventually did make it home, but man, was today's morning class a struggle. Full tasting notes to follow. Soon. A brief respite today, and then a team dinner tomorrow night, followed by the last class bash of the year, a boat party (aka a booze cruise). Tylenol and ibuprofen ready. We hard at work. Another day another dollar.

DF

there will be no white flag above my door ...

2011 Venus Dido 'La Universal' | DO Montsant

I witnessed a great kindness from a stranger this morning. The sky was grey, all was cloudy - a storm in Barcelona. There wasn't rain, so I made the call to leave the ridiculous golf umbrella at home. But sunshine isn't sunshine without a bit of rain, no? So not 15 minutes later, I stepped out of the metro into a downpour. Like a wet dog, I waited for the bus ... when I felt the rain stop. A girl was holding her umbrella over me. With a smile, she kept a stranger dry until the bus came. Angel.

We sometimes ask for too much from wine. We want it to be intense, to be rich ... to be value-priced, yet taste 'expensive', whatever the hell that means. I can't even begin to emphasize how hard I disagree with that perspective. My blood boils, my insides tighten. Do we no longer have the capacity for imagination, to allow ourselves to be surprised? Are we so cynical that we assume we know everything about a wine before tasting it, and anything surprising about it is a flaw?

I want to share a wine I had a few months ago, but am still processing. The Venus Dido - and you have to check out their story. From Montsant, a region of Catalunya that I'm discovering, and that I'm becoming head over heels crazy about. On first taste, the wine is what it is - unapologetically Spanish, that rich voluptuousness of vines grown in hot, dry climates. But like all good things, all good people, a true measure of character and quality comes with time. With an open mind, over a few days - the wine, initially throwing off stiff alcohol fumes, becomes more integrated, more in harmony. The acidity becomes a bit more focused, contributing as well to that balance. There's complexity, a minerality and chalkiness on the finish.

The 'La Universal' is a blend of 75% garnacha, 15% syrah, 5% merlot, and 5% cabernet sauvignon. Grown in an organic way, 40% of the wine is aged in concrete tanks, while 60% is aged in oaks of different origins and sizes (300-4000 litres) for 16 months, with a small amount in clay amphorae. Looking forward to seeing the direction owners Sara Perez and Rene Barbier take this wine. An honest interpretation of garnacha, full of vigor and character.

Man, that Champions League Final was a nail-biter, wasn't it. And this from a guy who really couldn't care less about soccer. A full range of emotions on display, especially from the Real Madrid fans. Confidence, excitement, fear, despair ... until finally elation, first cautious, then a full eruption of joy. That winning goal was what they paid €100 million for, I suppose. I'm quickly realizing that although the spirit is willing, I've reached my physical limits with partying here. So although no white flags will be raised (just yet), I do need a full 12 hours of sleep the night before a partying night. This week will be heavy - 5 days straight of events planned. Not that I'm complaining. Of course not. Of course not ...

DF

mystery in the glass

2012 Ferré i Catasús Somiatruites | DO Penedès

Dreams bottled, waiting patiently for its time, for the right person, for the right moment. And all it asks for ... all wine ever asks for ... is unselfishness, humility, and generosity. Too often we drink wine to impress people, to be peacocks, to somehow use wine to present ourselves as more than what we are. Tragic, really. The vines weep. We open bottles and share them with our loved ones, because wine brings us together in a spirit of joy and conviviality - the vines give us all she has and she asks for so little in return but for a moment of honesty and truth.

We had this wine way back, way back, during the first wine event I hosted here at IESE, before IESE Wine & Spirits existed. Exciting times. When we bought this wine, the shop owner couldn't even tell me what it was. A white wine from Penedès, a blend of who knows what grapes. Well, now I know. Chenin blanc, muscat à petits grains, sauvignon blanc, xarel-lo and chardonnay. Delightfully French, with a Catalan twist. Oooo, and it tastes French too. A waxiness on the palate, a definite richness, reminding me of those big Rhone whites. Freshness on the palate though, and some great dry extract that carries it through to a stately, dry finish. And what a beautiful label.

There's a feeling of impending doom here, that first year is drawing to a close and with it, a little bit of innocence, a little bit of carefree-ness. Well, maybe at least for me. My summer is far from figured out, but it's all a process isn't it. We stumble, we bumble, but in the end, we figure out the right blend. A bottle of dreams, mystery in the glass ... 

DF

Eye of the Hare

2010 Casa Mariol Ull de Llebre Criança 12 Mesos | DO Terra Alta

I've been in this country, this amazing city now for 9 months. And what have I learned so far, here in Barcelona? Silly question. It's far too late, and I'm far too sober to answer that properly. Bueno. But we've drunk some great things, no? I'm still getting my head around Catalan wines, but this is a delicious one. 

So ull de llebre is simply Catalan for tempranillo, and is literally eye of the hare. It's from Terra Alta, which, from the DO website, is in:

... the south of Catalonia, between the River Ebro and the borders of Aragon and includes the 12 municipalities of the county of Terra Alta. The landscape has all the features of an interior region near the Mediterranean Sea: Pre-coastal limestone mountain range (Ports d’Horta, Pàndols and Cavalls mountains), small rivers (l’Algars i el Canaletes), rocky conglomerate mountains, holm oak and white pines woods and, above all, the agricultural soil coloured by typical mediterraean farming: vineyards and almond and olive groves. Here we must add the three agricultural landscapes that are clearly defined: the plains, plateaus and valleys.

The cultivated soil is generally of medium texture. Its common denominator is its limestone richness and its lack of organic material. In the DOTA’s catalogue there are 17 soil profiles, the most prominent is el Panal (the type of soil peculiar to the Terra Alta).

Another feature of the character of the mediterranean interior is the climate. Abundant sunshine and little rainfall which make two distinguishing characteristics: a unique balance between two prodominating winds, el cerç (NW) i les garbinades (seawinds from the south) and a cold winter that is typically continential.

Very cool. Casa Mariol also has a wine bar here in Barcelona, which I really, really should go visit. I hear they pour their vermut too. This wine is aged 12 months in Hungarian oak. Bright orange label, because really, we buy wines on price and label. Intense, powerful wine, and although not altogether complex, an authentic hot climate wine, full of that richness and density that tempranillo can bring. Soft texture, some heat from the alcohol on the way down. A Spanish wine, if I dare be a little political.

Man. Nine months. This Friday was graduation day for the second years. Time flies, and although I haven't been really drinking tonight (yet), it's a trip. Need to get my act together a little, in all those things - academic, professional, personal. Otherwise I'm going to leave here having had the time of my life with nothing to show for it. Had this conversation last week ... have we really changed? Do we just do these programs and take for granted that we develop, we somehow just become better? Nonsense. It's a process that we have to invest in, that we have to commit to, and it takes much more than just lip service to achieve betterment ... much more. So we keep going, we keep pushing ourselves to be uncomfortable, to be a bit anxious, to be hungry. Eye of the hare baby.

DF