2008 Finca Sandoval "Signo" Bobal de Manchuela 14.0%

Oswaldo Costa

Oswaldo Costa
I was excited to try one of our sometimes prickly but beloved Victor's wines, and an uncommon varietal no less. So, in the spirit of exploration and communal conviviality, I went in totally willing to forgive and forget the 14.0% alcohol and the 600-700m altitude vineyards.

Not purple. Ripe plums, chocolate powder and rosemary over significant but not excessive oak. Satisfying body and tannins, healthy acidity, good balance, not at all hot. Today, I am not in sync with what I perceive as its modernity - oak, ripeness and smoothness - and perhaps these kept me from detecting what is uniquely Bobal. Well crafted, would no doubt have loved it at a different palate point.

Since we're lucky enough to have Victor, I would love to understand a little bit better the tradeoffs winemakers face:
Is this level of ripeness a stylistic choice (for FS's winemaker?) or is it mandated by climate?
In a version with less ripeness, would the tannins be too green?
If it's a stylistic choice, wouldn't a version with less ripeness and no wood show the Bobal character more clearly?
 
An absolute world first there, Oswaldo. 2008 Finca Sandoval hasn't been released yet! Are you sure it wasn't 2008 Salia? Or 2008 Signo?
 
How weird, the full title appeared on the title line when I first posted but somehow got lost later, like part of a recent post. Will try to reinstate the title.
 
OK, the confusion has now been cleared up. So it was Signo Bobal 2008.

Your remarks are very interesting, Oswaldo, and I appreciate the interest. Many thanks. I concur with some of them and don't quite understand some others, obviously. I'll try to reply to your questions and, in the process, point out where I differ. (I'm doing so while I drink a glass of the 2010 Finca Sandoval which we bottled yesterday. It helps. And it gives me the courage needed to give you a piece of earth-shattering info: no, the vineyard from which we source Signo Bobal, Entrecañadas, is not at "600-700m altitude", but at... 780 meters! Also, the vines are 72 years old. Imagine the pain living all that time at such an uncivilized altitude...)

First of all, a remark on the vintage: in our region 2008 wasn't great, but rather 'good, useful' for pleasant wines which are fine to drink relatively young, as we had an inconvenient heat wave just before harvesting and ripeness just exploded on us. Good for restaurants, particularly, rather than for extended aging. But we try to keep a steady line whatever the vintage conditions, so in our case the differences are not huge.

Then, on to your definition of the wine: "Significant but not excessive oak. (...) Ripe plums, chocolate powder and rosemary over significant but not excessive oak. Satisfying body and tannins, healthy acidity, good balance, not at all hot."

From that, you go on to some questions: "Is this level of ripeness a stylistic choice (for FS's winemaker?) or is it mandated by climate? In a version with less ripeness, would the tannins be too green? If it's a stylistic choice, wouldn't a version with less ripeness and no wood show the Bobal character more clearly?"

I sense a degree of what I call "wine ideology" here, while I rather move in the simpler realm of viticulture and winemaking. That's why I can't really understand the contrast between "healthy acidity, good balance, not at all hot" and then a "level of ripeness" which you find excessive. I can assure you that in this particularly hot and dry corner of the world, there would be heat, flabbiness and little balance in any wine made with overripe grapes. Do I take it that you prefer a certain degree of under-ripeness?

We have always tried, even in years like 2008, to harvest at 'just ripe' levels, because otherwise the result is irretrievably hot and jammy. Impossible to be 100% right, of course, but we'd rather err on the short side. Particularly for one of our main varieties, syrah, we always avoid waiting for the (supposed) full ripeness of skins, when they shrivel.

That said, we make Mediterranean wines, and we don't try to mimic Loire wines. If we did, I suspect we wouldn't be very successful.

You and I have different tastes, obviously: I wouldn't call the oaking 'significant' (no new oak at all, aged for 11 months in used, mostly 300-liter barrels), and tasters at the Lavinia Paris tasting of Spanish wines told me it was "the least oaky wine of all" (OK - this doesn't mean much in a Spanish wine tasting...). We use oak to polish tannins with the micro-ox it brings and help in the wine's longevity, not as a flavoring agent. We do try to make wines that will age, not just fresh young wines.

I also notice in our wines the typical limestone minerality which lends them an 'umami', almost salty quality when from such terroirs as the Côte-d'Or or Rioja Alavesa, for instance. That's a main feature of our Manchuela soils, with their typical 'tuesca' (limestone substrata). I see it didn't impress you.

I am also at a loss to respond to the "modernity" argument. Maybe the wine should be a little dirtier? From hand-harvesting to fermentation with its own yeasts in small, open-top vats where we work with hand 'pigeage' and on to the very traditional oak aging, we don't do any high-tech stuff except to control fermentation temperatures, a very needed feature in hot places to avoid harsh, excessive extraction.

There are no real local traditions in this forlorn part of the world, except home-made wine for families in the old days, and for the past 50 years bulk wines made by large co-operatives. We have no Mascarello or Gouges role model. But we do have a vineyard tradition, very classic in warm parts of Europe from Bordeaux on down, of multiple grape varieties coexisting in the field and thus of blended wines. So we follow that, at least in spirit, growing or harvesting six different grape varieties (seven from 2011, as we'll harvest a 1.5-hectare plot of moravia agria for the first time), and blending them.

Even when in 2006 we began making the Signo wines, dedicated to the most important local grapes (there's a Signo Garnacha now in addition to Signo Bobal) we kept up this attitude (slight snobbishness, or stubbornness, OK) about blends: there's 10% syrah in Signo Bobal, 10% garnacha tintorera/alicante bouschet in Signo Garnacha. (Legally, they're varietals in the European Union with 85% or more of one variety.)

This blend mentality means that in general, with our wines, we try to convey the terroir as translated by the different varieties, not a variety per se. In Signo, of course, there's more of that varietal emphasis.

So, what's the bobal profile, you ask, complaining that it may have been masked by overripeness and/or oak. As I've explained, I sincerely believe these are not real factors. What is a factor is that bobal belongs to that group of grape varieties that can't be easily, in almost caricature form, recognized through some very defined aroma or flavor features. Those 'easies' would include cabernet sauvignon, pinot noir, riesling, sauvignon blanc, garnacha/grenache, syrah... But then you have those others, like chenin, chardonnay or tempranillo, which are more adept at transmitting terroir and/or tertiary characters acquired with aging than at showing a telltale varietal style.

Bobal would be closer, in a modest way, to that second group: not so easy to pinpoint. It does have its very own features, of course: the tannins, which can indeed be spiky and a bit rustic when underripe, the dark fruit profile (blackcurrants, cherries, blackberries rather than blueberries, which are more a tempranillo feature), and the freshness. That's probably its most positive feature for a decidedly Mediterranean, warm climate grape.

In Spain, three varieties dominate, acreage-wise, its eastern, Mediterranean vineyards; they are, north to south, grenache, bobal and monastrell/mourvèdre. (Curiously, I think we're the only winery that makes all three.) I don't think you can make as complete, classy wines with bobal as with grenache or mourvèdre, which are really world-class (and indeed were planted very early on in many parts of the world). But neither grenache nor mourvèdre make wines that are as fresh, with good natural acidity, as bobal. Bobal is a little like cariñena/carignan in that sense, although quite different in style.

Sorry for the lengthy, boring reply. Well, if you have nothing better to do while waiting for Irene...
 
I am mercifully Irene-free down here in São Paulo, but this would be excellent reading even if I were housebound in NY.

72 years at 780 meters! Those vines must have very large lungs, like Nigerian or Kenyan runners... But, speaking seriously, thank you for such an illuminating reply, and for understanding the positive spirit of my "critique," despite the appearance of internal contraditions.

The way you describe the oak regime and the decision of when to pick corresponds to how I (perhaps ideologically) believe it should be, so I am at a loss as to why I perceived as much oak as I did. Perhaps I caught some Finnish quercophobic bacterium. I also don't think of myself as someone who likes his wines underripe, so either the concept of "just ripe" varies more than I imagined or, more likely, it varies with altitude/altutude because of things like the ratio of light to heat. My understanding has been that "just ripe" is the point where sugar stops accumulating through photosynthesis and starts accumulating through concentration (i.e., evaporation), but maybe this is too abstract, or the transition is not clear cut.

In any case, the Bobal seemed to have more oak, and to be riper, than I would have wanted, and the apparent contraditions in what I wrote may be the result of calibration, of trying to say that neither was egregiously so.

Given your methodology, my use of the term modern appears to be a misnomer. It was a reaction to the oak and ripeness being higher than I would have wanted. Now that you mention the umami, I recall it. The saltiness helped give it character.

Your descriptions of the blending tradition (about which you have written very interestingly before), the Bobal profile and the Mediterranean vineyards are helpful and instructive.

It's easy for me to speculate from ignorance and logic (as Jonathan aptly put it), so it's great to have input from people who actually make the damn thing. But I suspect words still won't give me a handle on the range of tradeoffs generated by latitude, altitude and the other variables. Tradeoffs that shape our perception of traditional v. modern, old v. new world, artisanal v. industrial, natural v. manipulated, and all the other inadequate dualisms out there. I don't think words will do it, and I don't have the energy to seek empirical (ab)solutions, so thanks for bearing with.
 
One addendum, Oswaldo: At what temperature did you taste it? Let's face it: these Mediterranean wines show best around 58-60º F. Well, I hope you give the wine a second chance, and we can blame it on bottle variation.
 
originally posted by VS:
One addendum, Oswaldo: At what temperature did you taste it? Let's face it: these Mediterranean wines show best around 58-60º F. Well, I hope you give the wine a second chance, and we can blame it on bottle variation.

It's been quite mild, so I had it at ambient temperature, 20C. That is pretty much the norm for me as far as reds, though it's a little higher than the textbooks recommend. I look forward to giving this wine a second, and your others a first, chance.
 
Trust me, Oswaldo: have those Mediterranean reds cooler (I'm talking 15-16º C), and they'll show so much better, as tannins are usually not overwhelming in them.

Last time I tasted our 2002, John, it was just going where one of our best (and least showy) vintages should be going: in the right direction, I think. Silky. But of course I'm an interested party, so my opinions are not reliable.
 
originally posted by VS:
Trust me, Oswaldo: have those Mediterranean reds cooler (I'm talking 15-16º C), and they'll show so much better, as tannins are usually not overwhelming in them.

Sounds sensible, yet something about this advice has been nagging at me.

With some exceptions, at home I usually drink whites at fridge temperature (around 12C) and reds at what I call "everyday room temperature" (20C). Some find the latter too high, but it's usually fine, and I appreciate the level playing field for TNs. I also have the idea that this shows the wine as it "really is," though I see the contradiction of not requiring the same for rosés and whites.

I understand that tannins tend to be less ovewhelming in Mediterranean reds because the level of ripeness softens them, and also reduces the acidity (ditto, of course, for several new world climates). If you cool reds from colder climates, tannins and acidity come off harsher, hence the standard advice to serve stronger reds at 18C and lighter reds at 16C. So, while it seems a little odd to cool Mediterranean reds, it makes sense, but there's usually no need to cool reds from colder climates.

I guess what I'm getting at is the (rhetorical) question: why not confine oneself to the inexaustible variety of wines from climates (including the "right" Spanish ones) whose wines taste good and feel right at room temperature?
 
Room temperature in a wine producing European country (remember the latitude vs. height discussion)prior to central heating was more like 16-17 then like 20. If we assume not that cultures produced wines for that temperature (I would guess that room temperature was much colder prior to 19th century forms of heating)but that that is probably the temperature meant when some wine writers said to bring a wine to room temperature, then Eric's recommended temperatures are more nearly the historically intended ones. What the right ones will be will of course depend on taste.
 
originally posted by Jeff Grossman:
I find 'fridge temp' is too cold; it suppresses full flavor.

True, I'm counting on a gradual rise as it sits in the glass and the bottle stays out.

originally posted by Jonathan Loesberg:
Room temperature in a wine producing European country prior to central heating was more like 16-17 then like 20.

I can see that in the colder months, but it must have been in the low 20s for a good deal of the year, especially since there were no buildings above six floors, and most houses only had one or two stories, there was poor ventilation, etc.

originally posted by SFJoe:
And when I meet friends in storage, we drink at 12*.

You have so many friends that you have to keep some in storage? Higher temperatures are for enemies?
 
And here I was expecting some reprise of the Guerra da Restauração (damn accents). You disappoint me, Oswaldo and Victor.
 
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