BY JOAQUÍN HIDALGO | OCTOBER 08, 2020

Que veinte años no es nada

Que febril la mirada, errante en las sombras

(“Twenty years ain’t nothin’

My feverish gaze peers through the gloom”)

From “Volver,” a tango by Carlos Gardel and Alfredo Le Pera

For many wine lovers, Mendoza Malbec is synonymous with easygoing reliability, a choice you can turn to with confidence that a bottle isn’t going to offer up any unexpected surprises. Its enormous constituency of US consumers, which ranges from New Haven to Houston, Phoenix to Milwaukee, drank 82 million bottles of Argentine wine in 2019 and sees Malbec as something you can slip into like a comfortable pair of old slippers. For these fans, I have both good and bad news.

The good news is that Argentina, and Mendoza especially, continues to produce just that kind of red. More unsettling, perhaps, is the fact that as the Mendoza Malbec category has established itself over the past decade, many wines from this southerly corner of the globe have undergone a sharp change in stylistic and creative direction, of a kind one only sees in countries as turbulent as Argentina.

But don’t shoot the messenger. Those looking for new experiences for the palate will find that down at the other end of the Americas, a number of alluring trends have sprung up alongside the tried and tested traditions.

Looking back over the experience of tasting more than a thousand wines for this report, not counting the many more I tried previously, I can safely say that in the past 20 years, Argentina has produced enough revelations in the cellar to dispel any notion of comfortable old predictability.

The wine producing area of Argentina spans 1,500 miles, from Quebrada de Humahuaca to the north to the Patagonian vineyards of Chubut in the south but the Cuyo region accounts for 95% of total surface area under vine.

Twenty Bumpy Years

In Argentina we have a saying that describes the shifting moods of the country: You can go away for a week only to discover that everything’s changed when you get back, but return after 20 years and you’ll find that nothing has changed at all. History has proved this to be surprisingly apt.

So far in the 21st century, we have endured two separate crises over the national debt (negotiations to resolve the most recent one recently concluded), ten presidents, and abrupt changes in export and trade policies alternating between free market and protectionist approaches. The current situation is uncertain, to say the least. Faced with an unprecedented global crisis caused by the coronavirus pandemic, the country has been on lockdown for seven months; extremely strict controls have been set regarding the purchase of foreign currency; and inflation last year ran at 50% and this year seems likely to be at least 35%. If you squint a little, 2020 begins to look a lot like 2001.

And yet the wine industry appears to have bucked the trend. Facing both short- and long-term challenges, it has undergone progressive change that leaves it unrecognizable from what it was 20 years ago. Three facts sum up the process neatly: exports have risen from $90 million to $800 million; the domestic market has shrunk from 36 liters per capita to 18 (although it’s been rebounding during the lockdown); and the focus on vineyards has moved to higher altitudes, in search of climates that make possible for a greater variety of styles. These profound changes are coming out in the glass.

Just take a look at the highest-scoring labels among the thousand or so I tasted for this report, with the exception of one from Río Negro in Patagonia and two from Luján de Cuyo, they all come from high-altitude vineyards in the Uco Valley, where evocative Geographic Indications such as Gualtallary, San Pablo, Los Cachayes, Paraje Altamira and Pampa El Cepillo are to be found. Some were only just beginning to be planted 20 years ago, while others didn’t even exist as regions. What happened, then, to make them such a success?

The upper Uco Valley, first planted in the 1990s, boasts the highest and coolest vineyards in Mendoza, spread across GIs such as San Pablo, Los Chacayes and Gualtallary (which is pending approval). The majority of older vineyards are in Primera Zona, near the city of Mendoza.

Changing Natures

Between 2002 and 2018 (the period for which we have the most reliable and complete statistics), the surface area of Argentina under vine grew by 5.6% to 218,000 hectares. But this overall growth conceals major variations: some regions expanded much more than the average, and others actually shrank. To offer a pair of extreme examples: the surface area of vineyards in the Uco Valley planted above a height of 1,000 meters (this being the dividing line between warm and moderate to cool zones) almost doubled from 14,200 hectares to 28,244, while areas below 800 meters – the southern oasis, the east of Mendoza – lost 22,000 hectares, a 30% drop, over the same time period.

In other words, a significant portion of the vineyards migrated from the warm plains to the much cooler foothills of the Andes. Where before the postcards showed the mountains very much in the background, perhaps behind an avenue of poplars, today the peaks and glaciers loom large over the vines, and producers have begun to refer to the category of “mountain wines.” This migration is very much reflected in the descriptions and scores in this report.

Luján de Cuyo is set right at the 1,000-meter mark, in the suburbs of Mendoza. Forever threatened by the growth of the city, which continues to drive up land prices, it has thus far managed to survive and thrive. Today, one of the brightest spots in the region is Agrelo, while older corners with their equally old vines, such as Las Compuertas, Vistalba, Lunlunta and Drummond, are able to hold back the encroachment of gated communities thanks to the increasing value of their wines.

Mendoza accounts for seven out of every ten bottles produced in Argentina. The province of large mountains and expansive deserts is thus fairly indicative of the entire country, although there are, of course, subtle differences.

The same efforts to exploit cooler terroirs can be seen in Pedernal, San Juan Province (the second-largest producer by volume, accounting for 23% of national output). The region basks in the high-altitude sun of the Andes, with vines originally planted in the 1990s, while the Calchaquí Valleys in Salta (1.4% of total national surface area under vine) offer otherworldly high-altitude locations such as Luracatao and Cachi with their thin mountain air. In this report you’ll find wines from all these regions to get your taste buds tingling.

In the search for new climates and virgin soils, understanding the subsoil has been key to the leap in quality of Argentine wines reflected in this report. And there’s another plus: most of these new styles have become increasingly popular on the domestic market before they even get overseas.

Located to the north of Argentina, the Calchaquí Valley runs through three provinces – Catamarca, Tucumán and Salta. The largest area under vine is in Cafayate, Salta, but several remote vineyards are scattered throughout the high altitude valley. Overall the region accounts for 2% of the surface area under vine.

Evolving Palates

“Right now, we’re producing the best wines in our history,” said oenologist Alejandro Vigil, head of the team at Catena Zapata, which produces some of the most renowned labels in Argentina. I think he’s right. Over my two-decade career as a wine journalist, I have witnessed at least three significant shifts in style.

The Bordelais winemaker Michel Rolland is fond of saying that when he came to Argentina in 1988, “they drank a lot of wine but not in a style that the rest of the world was much interested in.” Thus came the first stylistic change, which we might call the French take on Argentine terroirs. The solar intensity of the west allowed producers to achieve something not possible in Bordeaux: ripe, concentrated, powerful, alcoholic reds that, when aged at length in barrels, grew into serious, potent wines. That era, which for argument’s sake we’ll say spanned the first decade of the new millennium, resulted in the Mendoza Malbec, in which grapes from different regions were blended together to increase complexity.

Then there was a kind of watershed when wine producers started to ask different stylistic questions and offer new interpretations of their terroirs. It’s interesting to note that Argentina is a net consumer, and those potent styles may have earned plenty of accolades but attracted fewer new drinkers. I can vouch for that myself.

In 2009 I published an enthusiastic review of a then little-known producer who had charmed me with relaxed, flavorful reds in which the oak was more of an afterthought – wines very different from what we’d been used to but which, as a consumer, I enjoyed much more. The winery was called Manos Negras and the winemaker’s name was Alejandro Sejanovich. That was a key moment for me. In fact, for this report I’ve revisited a few bottles that set the tone back then, such as the first vintage of El Enemigo Malbec 2008, which has developed wonderfully (I’ll write about it in the near future).

The third period saw the new approach consolidated by several different producers determined to bring out the flavor of their reds, rather than just their natural concentration. This paved the way for a new perspective on Argentina: “I made it my mission to get to know the place and interpret it stylistically in my own producer’s point of view,” said Sebastián Zuccardi, who in 2014 released Concreto Malbec as a kind of manifesto, an event that now looks very much like a landmark of this third era. In fact, the family’s journey from eastern Mendoza to the much cooler heights of the Uco Valley, where they set up a winery in 2016, is a good reflection of the wider picture. Like Zuccardi, many producers have set out to explore what can be done with wine in Argentina, and the result is a much richer panorama than existed previously.

Planted five miles from the Atlantic Ocean, this Pinot Noir from Trapiche Costa y Pampa is constantly battered by the cold ocean breeze. The bag under the sign contains charcoal to help ameliorate common spring frosts.

From Mendoza Malbec to the Malbec Variations

From La Quebrada de Humahuaca, right on the Tropic of Capricorn, where Malbec is grown at an altitude of 3,400 meters above sea level, to the Patagonia steppes, where the first harvest in Capitán Sarmiento, on the 45º 30’ parallel, is currently aging in barrels at an altitude of 280 meters, different expressions of Malbec run all the way down the spine of the Andes, a distance of 1,500 miles (the equivalent of a road trip from the Unites States/Canada border to Mexico).

Meanwhile, the wines I tasted offer up extremes of their own. Lucas Niven is a small producer exploring the terroir of Humahuaca. “I fell in love with the place because of its purity,” he told me. It’s a desert valley where what is little more than a creek snakes its way through a mountainous landscape scattered with cardons, enormous cacti that from a distance look rather like giants. Shaped by the sunlight that burns through the thin atmosphere, Malbec here is raw and wild. It’ll be a while before the right balance is found to tame it without letting it becoming overripe. Sejanovich has planted his flag up here too: “It’s a cold area, Winkler Zone 1, like Champagne, but in the Tropics.” To see what he’s talking about, take a look at Corazón Valiente and Cielo Arriba.

A leading winery in the northern reaches is Colomé, located near Cachi in the Calchaquí Valleys. Altura Máxima is a Malbec grown at an altitude of 3,100 meters that sets the stylistic tone now and for the future. “Planted in 2004, today the vineyard is finding its balance,” said Thibaut Delmotte, the house oenologist. “But it took a while before we were able to understand and manage it properly.” The scores reflect the winery’s success in producing a red that combines the sun-kissed strength found at high altitudes with the juicy acidity of the cool climate to keep it in check.

In contrast, another Bordeaux-educated oenologist, Hans Vinding Diers, does his work down in Patagonia, in the Río Negro valley, producing from vineyards first planted in 1932. “The 2018 vintage of Noemía reflects all the organic and gardening work we did to get the vines where we wanted them,” he reported. A subtle, refined Malbec with a delicate balance, it offers the perfect contrast to the northern examples. Chiseled out of the remote, expansive steppes of the local area, it draws its energy from the unending horizon.

On a smaller scale, it’s just as rewarding to compare different parts of the Uco Valley with others in Luján de Cuyo (20 miles away), where one finds remarkable variations in terroir. Martín Kaiser, the agricultural engineer at Doña Paula, is leading a research project seeking to classify these different flavors, now in its fourth year. “Even within the different climates one finds at altitude, warmer to cooler, there are interesting differences: spicy, dark-fruit Malbecs in the former and floral, red-fruit examples from the latter,” he explained.

These differences are discernible outside the laboratory, too, as can be seen in a good portion of the Malbecs found in this report; pay attention to the region they come from when you’re uncorking them. Even within the Uco Valley itself, the difference in the flavors found in Gualtallary (altitudes of between 1,200 and 1,650 meters) and Paraje Altamira (1,200 meters) is quite clear. While the altitude accounts for the climate, it’s the proximity to the mountains that defines the profile of the soils, which are responsible for the equally notable differences in structure. Daniel Pi, the oenologist at Bemberg Estate Wines, summed it up thus: “Malbec from the bottom of the valley versus Malbec from the hillsides.”

And so the famous Mendoza Malbec, sired by different vineyards from across the province and boasting complexity and voluminous, fleshy palates, now finds itself challenged by more subtle combinations of structure and texture. As Alberto Arizu, CEO of Luigi Bosca and former president of Wines of Argentina, puts it, “Following the grand emergence of Malbec, Argentina now has several different Malbecs to offer.” In short, there’s plenty for lovers of the variety to sink their teeth into.

In 2009 Casa de Uco planted vines in the heart of  Los Chacayes, Uco Valley, at 1,250 meters above sea level. Behind is the blizzard-swept peak of the highest mountain in the Cordillera Frontal range: El Plata (The Silver Mountain, 6,000 masl).

Parcel and Conquer

One of the most interesting trends we’ve seen in recent years in Argentina is the research being done to isolate different flavors on the vine. A direct result of that phenomenon is the growing number of single-parcel wines, some of which, such as Adrianna Vineyard Mundus Baislus Terrae and Piedra Infinita Supercal, received recognition in this report.

But everyone needs to find their own path. Where Catena Zapata and Zuccardi led the way, other wineries are doing their own research into their vineyards. We see this especially in lines such as La Yesca from Bemberg Estate, Terrazas Parcel N°2W Los Castaños Wines and Proyecto Las Compuertas from Durigutti, and Salentein’s new vineyard- and parcel-based wines. Just edging them out is Pyros Limestone Hill Malbec, the first red of its kind, which is the result of research into the soil carried out by French specialists Lydia and Claude Bourguignon in the Pedernal Valley in San Juan Province.

But these approaches are hardly unique: more and more wineries are carrying out in-depth research into their vineyards and isolating parcels that turn out to be diamonds in the rough, whether because the soils are rich in limestone or clay, or contain just the right amount of rock, or some other factors are in play. We’re even seeing this soil segmentation reflected on the labels.

Cabernet Sauvignon recently harvested from the La Jacinta vineyard in Perdriel, Luján de Cuyo, which belongs to Bodega Lagarde. The photograph was taken on March 24, 2019.

Small Producers 

Like many countries outside of Europe, the entrepreneurial spirit is rife in our southerly climes, partly because of Argentinians’ naturally restless nature and partly because it’s how you survive in a country that keeps being turned upside down and forced to reinvent itself.

That restless spirit is best reflected by small producers with a yen for innovation. If a country’s winemaking health is indicated by the depth of its range, small producers must be a key factor, and there’s plenty from them available in wine stores in Argentina, although little finds its way outside the country.

For this report, I tasted wines from around 30 producers whose output ranges from a handful of bottles to a few thousand a year. In some cases – for instance, Alma Gemela, Relator, Somos Berracos, Bira, Cara Sur, Sunal Wines and Amar y Vivir – these wines deserve serious attention. Whether it’s combinations of unusual varieties (from Monastrel to Criolla or Sangiovese), extreme regions and remote locations such as San Lucas in Salta, or old, forgotten vines in Tupungato, Uco Valley, they are producing some of the most innovative flavors on the market. If you’re looking for something new and different, this is the way to go.

A pioneer in the use of roll fermentors in Argentina (pictured in the photo), Rutini Wines is a high-tech winery in the Uco Valley run on the winemaking side by Mariano di Paola, an oenologist with 40 vintages under his belt.

Three Reds Worth a Closer Look

There are other trends worth keeping an eye on. In my article Argentina White Wine Revolution, we surveyed a range of interesting whites, while in A Revolution of Place: Argentina Classifies Its Terroirs, we explored the parcel process in greater detail. However, there are three varieties that look certain to get tongues wagging in the medium term. The first is Pinot Noir. For this report, I tried 35 of them. In contrast to previous years, producers are really beginning to get it right. “We’ve spent 15 years studying the variety and specific terroirs,” said Laura Catena of her new line Domaine Nico, which recently produced its second vintage. Learning how to handle the variety and make it in a very different climate from that seen in Burgundy is a real challenge. Other good Pinots have been produced by Estancia Uspallata, in the Mendoza Andes, and Otronia, in Chubut to the deep south. Much of the best of the grape – its elegance and complexity, its fruity, earthy profile and its vibrant acidity – can be found in these wines.

There’s more good news when it comes to Cabernet Sauvignon, especially in extreme regions such as the Calchaquí Valley and several terroirs in Mendoza. The work being done by Alejandro Pepa at El Esteco has taken the variety up a notch. “Getting a handle on the sun and pruning the pergolas properly has allowed us to manage the herbal flavors with refinement, without overdoing the roasted or sun-dried flavors. Just as important is harvesting at the right time, which isn’t so easy in the valley,” said Pepa from his base in Cafayate. Also raising the bar for northern Cabernets is Matías Etchart with his auteur wines.

But there are also lovely examples from the more traditional terroirs of Mendoza, especially the 2017 and 2018 vintages. Unlike the overripe wines of previous decades, the purity of the fruit and fine aging work have produced sophisticated highlights such as Bramare Luján de Cuyo and Pascual Toso Alta, while in the Uco Valley, Trapiche Terroir Series Laborde, Ambrosía Viña Única and Lagarde Primeras Viñas stand out for their mountainous character. According to Paul Hobbs, a man obsessed with the variety, “it’s never quite there, but with the right vine management and precise winemaking, Argentina is very capable of producing a world-class Cabernet.” A few from these vintages are getting close.

A third variety looks promising, although not much is being made as yet. Only 1,146 hectares of Cabernet Franc are planted in the country, but to judge by the definition and intensity of some examples I’ve tried – for this report and earlier – it’s more than worth watching out for. There are two clear styles in terms of flavor: those from the Uco Valley, which are juicy and fresh, and those from Agrelo with their potent, fleshy palates. Gran Enemigo Los Chacayes sums up the former, while Pulenta Estate XI is an excellent example of the latter.

Bemberg Estate Wines opened its winery with the 2020 harvest. It is split into two wings around a circular center. This photo shows the fermentation wing.

The Edge of the Map

Oceanic regions first started being planted in 2008, especially in the Chapadmalal area near the seaside city of Mar del Plata. Trapiche has been working with 33 hectares of vineyard, producing wines that were only available in Argentina until this year. But they aren’t alone. Another project called Insólito is exploring the potential of the granite sierras of Balcarce. In both cases the standout wines are Chardonnay and Albariño. These projects are joined by two vineyards near the coast of Patagonia, from which only Wapisa has produced wines for the market so far. The deep south of Patagonia and the sierras of Córdoba in the heart of the country are two more areas that are likely to emerge in the coming years. Both possess vineyards in new landscapes, and I’m following their wines closely. Just as this report was coming to an end, we received news of the first vines being planted in Santa Cruz, the most southerly province in continental Patagonia, at the 47º 34’ parallel, alongside steppes and glaciers.

There’s no doubt that the past two decades have seen a major transformation in the Argentine wine industry. A drinker coming back after 20 years away might conclude that nothing much has changed in political or economic terms, but as soon as they pick up a glass, they’ll know that in one small area at least, Argentina has made great progress. Contradicting the line from “Volver” (“Return”), the famous tango by Gardel and Le Pera, that “twenty years ain’t nothin’,” Argentine wine has managed to avoid going back on itself and has its “fevered gaze” fixed firmly on the future.