Alvaro Palacios - The Story of Alvaro

He is wildly charismatic and an electrifying presence. As Jancis Robinson put it: I love Alvaro's unusual combination of impishness, innovation & determination to prioritise wine quality above all else. As well as this though, his origin story is unique, expansive and fascinating.

Alvaro was born in 1964, 7th of 9 children, in La Rioja in the family winery Palacios Remondo, which had been established by his father Jose in 1948. Alvaro grew up amongst the vines. It is in his blood. In Rioja, they grew grapes, made wine and distributed it as a grower. Alvaro studied wine in Spain and then left for spells in California’s Stags Leap and more pertinently, Chateau Petrus of Bordeaux. Here he experiened an epiphany, learning about attention to detail.

Palacios is wildly Patriotic. He loves bullfighting, soccer, Flamenco (he plays the guitar and sings), all things Spanish. With his newfound flair for detail and his ingrained grasp of the process of winemaking from his early years in Rioja, he set about exploring Spain to find the ultimate terroir. He was convinced that Spain was capable of producing Cru wines every bit as unique as those of Barolo and Burgundy. He toured by motorbike and bought and sold barrels to get by. Impressed by the vineyards and potential of Bierzo, he knew he had struck gold when he happened across the licorella-clad abandoned vineyards of Priorat.

HIPPIES AND DREAMERS...

If you open a Hugh Johnson wine atlas from the 80’s, Priorat will scarcely receive a mention. Now, along with Rioja it is a DOC - the stop of Spain’s classification. The story of it coming to being as such is a coming of age story that would not feel out of place in Hollywood. Palacios formed a merry band of winemakers that became known as the Priorat 5: Clos Dofi (Palacios), Clos Mogador (Rene Barbier), Clos Martinet (Jose Luis Perez), Clos de l’Obac (Carles Pastrana) and Clos Erasmus (Daphne Glorian).

There were no young people in Priorat and it truly was a region close to death: It was like landing on the moon according to Daphne Glorian. We used to drive around in a pink van with purple seats looking at old vineyards. As palacios puts it: It was like a commune, a group of romantics full of enthusiasm for a project. Pooling their resources on one wine, but released under 5 labels, it immediately drew ecstatic reviews. Different wines received different scores, but as one of the 5 put it with obvious divillment: critics preferred some to others…..but it was all the same stuff.

Priorat quickly went from strength to strength, no region in the world has grown to where it is now from a standing start in such a short period. The wines are characterised by their depth and concentration, but in the best cases also by their freshness. In the very best casessuch as Alvaro’s wines, there is an elegance and femininity to the wines that is simply astounding. In 1993, Alvaro identified a plot which he bought and named L’Ermita. It is now one of the most expensive and sought after wines in the world. Priorat in the last few years has embarked on a new system of classification more akin to the Burgundian hierarchy of regional, village and cru.

IT'S NOT ABOUT GOLD...

Alvaro stood at the top of a steep slope peering down into a schist soil laden valley of wild vines. As he nearly lost his footing it occurred to him that he might roll all the way to the valley floor, so steep were these long-deserted vineyards. It was 1999 and he was standing in Corullon, a small village in the little-known appellation of Bierzo. Priorat was on the cusp of being recognised as a DOC classified appellation, his wines were garnering huge praise and fortunes of money, he was established as one of Spain’s leading lights, he was the man. The time was right for the next push. The next Spanish Grand Cru. 

Bierzo is in Galicia, the North West of Spain oft-referred to as Green Spain. Phylloxera had wiped out most of the ancient vineyards and Franco had further debased the area by planting high yielding varieties such as Palomino (the grape used in Sherry and very rarely for still wine). The near-extinct grape of the region was Mencia. Difficult to grow, low yielding, nearly impossible to blend and more or less completely unknown; Alvaro no doubt relished the challenge. With the help of his nephew Ricardo and his father Jose, Alvaro purchased some old vineyards and started replanting the ancient sites by massale-propogating (taking cuttings from) the scattered survivors of phylloxera and Franco. Tragically, Jose passed away before the first vintage was released in 2001 and he inspired the name: Descendienties de Jose Palacios. Did he know straight away he had struck gold again? “It is not about gold, it is about a link to the vinicultural genetics of the past”, Alvaro says in a tone that seems almost apologetic to my crassness, and I make a mental note never to speak again.

Bierzo is an incredibly special region for Mencia. Further West in Sacra and Monterrei there are plenty of Mencia plantings, but to the East it becomes too warm during the day and the Mencia becomes soupy and fails to achieve much freshness and acidity. Bierzo’s cold nights balance the warm days perfectly and with its soils it manages fragrant and deeply decadent, rich wines that are also lively and elegant. The wines of DJP are the best in the region; gamey, unique, balanced and always very, very long. Upon release of the first vintage, Alvaro had his beloved Burgundian village classification ready to go for Bierzo. His regional AC-style wine is ‘Petalos’, his Village wine is ‘Corullon’ and he makes three Crus; ‘Moncerbal’, ‘Las Lamas’ and the famous ‘La Faraona’. (Two other wines ‘San Martin’ and ‘Fontelas’ have been absorbed by Corullon now – they pop up on wine lists all over Spain, do not cost the earth and with every year become a rarer and more precious piece of history).

BACK TO THE FUTURE...

Growing up Alvaro witnessed first-hand the trivialisation of Rioja, beginning after the second World War, intensifying during Franco. Rioja became a homogenised style and a price-point orientated product that was used to promote the burgeoning tourism business. The fact that Tempranillo was less suited to Baja mattered little and Garnacha was ripped up in favour of Tempranillo or as Alvaro calls it ‘artificial wine’. Millions of litres of crianza, reserva etc were pumped out, any sense of terroir or origin was lost. This was horrifying and he immediately began replanting by massale (as in Bierzo) to ancient Garnacha with a little bit of the white Viura. 

Rioja’s shunning of terroir dates to 1932 when Rioja prioritised maturation over place as a signifier of quality. The wines of Rioja have been made in the winery, and not in the vineyard. Low yields, hand-harvesting terroir take a backseat to juice sitting in barrel. With enough space and barrels, anyone can make a Gran Reserva (5 years in oak). Álvaro’s arrival emboldened the insurgent movement towards village classification. Artadi, a producer committed to vineyards and terroir and made up of a collective winemakers formally ‘left’ the Rioja appellation to protect the legacy of Rioja Alvesa. Telmo Rodriguez, a protégé of Alvaro’s organised a manifesto from 150 growers, he is now known as the terroir crusader. Rioja has finally relented and a geographical system will accompany the old system.

Alvaro has concentrated on trying to promote the name change of Rioja Baja (lower Rioja) to Rioja Oriental. He also has found time to make another mind bogglingly expensive wine in Quinon de Valmira, a single plot Grand Cru “shaped by the spirituality of the landscape, chiselled by centuries of dry, cold Cierzo winds and the Mediterranean sun leaves a faint presence: the silent nerve of Garnacha, the allure of solitude”.

My time with him was incredible. He is a funny and gregarious yet softly-spoken gentleman. (Flamenco dancing on the table after a serious day of tasting!). After a couple of days of hosting us in his Priorat base and glugging of his top wines, he had to leave us as his driver was taking him to a dinner meeting in Barcelona a two-hour drive away at 11pm. Admittedly, being Barca that is probably when the kitchen opens - but his work ethic is incredible.  

He has no plans to take up any of the numerous lucrative consultancies he is constantly offered. He has cultivated a crack team to look after his regional and village wines (though he is still intimately involved) and he wants to concentrate on his Grand Crus, L’Ermita, La Faraona and Valmira. He considers himself just a messenger that is helping history get into the bottle. These vineyards and these wines do not belong to him he says, they belong to Spain and he counts himself very fortunate to have been here in this place and time. Even if that is true, one taste of his wines and you will agree that it is us that are fortunate that he has been here in this place and time. All hail the King of Spain!

Rory.