Yecla DO. A little Spanish gem.

Spain is such an exciting place for wine because there’s so much to discover, rather like Italy. I rarely buy Spanish wine in London because I’m lucky enough to spend a lot of time in Spain so I tend to keep it for those moments. Also psychologically, it’s just too traumatic having to spend ten quid on wines that cost about 3 over there.

            That should be qualified; I don’t buy Rioja or Ribero Del Duero over here. Also I think it’s more than just money, it’s association. It’s context. So much time and pleasure eating and drinking Spanish food and Spanish wine in authentic southern Spain, has institutionalized me to the tastes and the unique atmosphere. I do feel sorry; in a rather smug, self-satisfied yet also immensely grateful way too, of course, for those saps spending a fortune in London “tapas” bars. You wouldn’t catch me in there. Anyway enough of that self-indulgent reflection. The point is; when I see a rarer Spanish red, for a reasonable price, I’ll sometimes give it a go, as with the wine in question for this article. In the mountains of Murcia, in south-eastern Spain - a place that is probably described in guide books as wild, romantic and unforgiving - is the town of Yecla, which give the wine its name. I’ve known about these wines for a while now though they’re not seen a huge amount. The one I picked was made from a grape that the Spanish call Monastrell. The French call it Mourvèdre. It likes heat and is most often used as a blend. When you see it, I’d suggest going for it. It’s rather unique and one of Spain's little known specialities as its rarely done as a principal grape elsewhere. This fellow was only 8 pounds from M and S or 'S and M' as the 50 shades of Grey generation call it in an attempt to be post-modern. A bargain. Lovely red fruits and some plum flavours too, with spice and plenty of alcohol and acidity for your Sunday roast, yet rather soft and restrained at the same time. Utterly food friendly wine, we had with roast chicken, they suggest curry or Barbeque. Just make sure you eat something with it as it has 14.5 % alcohol.

Madiran - A feisty dark horse...

What’s your favourite wine? Impossible to answer right? Like favourite song, favourite film, favourite place etc. The agony of choice. A modern problem for us privileged ones.

            Anyway, what do you know of Madiran? Not much perhaps, not particularly well known but for those who do know it, make it, drink it etc., there is a great deal of enthusiasm.

            In south-west France about 2 hours inland of Biarritz is the village of Madiran. The small appellation of Madiran is around 70 years old but they’ve been making wine here since Roman times. I’ve never been there but I’m told it’s beautiful.  And the climate seems rather delicious, nice and warm but tempered by the winds and moisture of the Atlantic and so not as uncomfortably warm in mid-summer as, say the Rhone Valley.

            Now, why Madiran? Like a lot of wine preferences, I think it’s one particular experience that creates that love, that loyalty. More of that later.  It’s also of a style that suits my palate. Quite dry and tannic. Plummy with red and black fruits and a bit of spice. The predominant grape is called Tannat which, of course hints at its style. Traditionally, long maturation and ageing was required for the wine to soften sufficiently but modern techniques enable it to be drunk much younger though the best wines still have a bit of age. It’s relatively unique too in its style. I also like an underdog. Wines appellations like Madiran have to work quite hard to survive.

            So, the experience in question. In 2012, working in Nicolas the French wine merchant I began to discover some lesser known wine regions of France. We had two bottles of a Madiran, 2006. No more of that vintage were available, so I bought one and unusually for me I kept it.  Well a friend of mine kept it as I moved house later that year and left a bag at his place. Luckily. The following year, a Sunday afternoon in late winter, myself and another good mate got together at said friend’s place for a boozy lunch. Amongst much wine, was downed a bottle of Jurançon sec i.e. dry, funnily enough from the same part of France with razor clams but the highlight was the Madiran with a venison stew. One of those moments we occasionally enjoy where everything fits into place.  The company, the context, the food and the wine. Those moments are rare, that’s probably why I remember it all so well.

            Since that moment I’ve been a great fan of Madiran. Why write about it 4 years later? Well I found some Madiran recently in M & S. Not the best one you might find, but good value, subtle and worth a go. That’s the thing about wine. It’s all personal. I can’t guarantee you’ll enjoy Madiran as much as me, but I guarantee it’s worth investigating if you like dry, food friendly reds. And you’ll be helping an underdog too.