We are in the rugged and dramatic Ribeira Sacra in the interior of Galicia, a transitory zone between the Atlantic and the dry, hot Castilian inland. The soils here are decomposed granite and schist. Couto is a small settlement in the Sil valley, and in Galician “fedellos” means something like punks. Luís, Pablo, Curro and Jesús might call themselves punks, but their wines are fine-tuned, and quite complex too.
Lomba dos Ares (meaning the “hilltop of Ares”) is a steep vineyard in the Bibei sub-zone at 700-750 meters. In this particular place there is granite soils higher up that changes to sandy schist further down. The varieties planted here are a.o. mencía, merenzao (bastardo or trousseau), caiño, mouratón (garnacha tintorera), noen of them dominating. The grapes are hand-harvested, fermented in whole clusters in steel, and with a long and gentle maceration with pigeage. Later it was aged in neutral French oak.
Lomba dos Ares 2017(Fedellos do Couto)
Light red. Cool aroma of flowers and red berries (cherry, raspberry), and behind is a next layer of smoke, pine and herbs. Juicy in the mouth, but with fine-grained tannins and some concentration, good fruit all the way and an elegant integrated acidity. Some ageing potential.
Vigo is the main city of Galicia’s southern part. It might be that I don’t know it well enough, but I think that even if it may be the natural centre for those who live and work there, so far that it lacks that “something extra” to make it a major tourist spot. This is if you’re not taking into account that Galicia’s (at the moment) best natural wine bar is there. Malauva is a place you can go to savour delicious organic, biodynamic, natural wines, and the waiters know what wines they are serving, just half a block from my hotel by the harbour. (I visited in a break from Porto’s Simplesmente fair, over the border.) It was Josiño, educated sommelier, and his wife Marina who started the bar, and I hope that sufficiently enough people will appreciate it, so that many like me (natural wine geeks, but not Celta football fans) have a reason to come back.
On a corner just off the harbour
I ordered “Burrata y tomates” and “Canelón de choco”, and as it was not packed with guests this Monday I had the chance to discuss with Josiño which wines to be served next.
I chose to go Galician that night. After a light start, the appley/citrussy Eido da Salgos 2016 (Cazapitas) from O Rosal, Rías Baixas, came the more herbal Memoría de Ventura lías finas 2016 (Pinguela), a Valdeorras godello. On to the reds, Volátil from the
Bibei subregion of Ribeira Sacra were bottled by the Fefiñans of Cambados. Maybe the least interesting wine, a bit warm and oaky, but also with nice dark fruits and balsamic notes. With Silice 2017 of Sober (Amandi subzone of Ribeira Sacra) it started to take off. A cherry red, wild fruits scented, atlantic acidity, elegant wine.
Josiño, ‘taberneiro’ for Malauva wine bar
Our main wine this time is from the team Envínate, that makes wines in several Spanish regions. The four friends started as consultants after oenology studies in Alicante in 2005, but it soon evolved into a wine producing project. Their aim is to explore distinctive parcels and make pure, authentic wines that express the terroir of each parcel. No chemicals are used in the vineyards, only natural yeast, and sulfur is used only prior to bottling and if they think they need it.
Lousas is Galician for the type of slate soil that predominates in the Amandi sub-zone of Ribeira Sacra. Aldea means village. There is 90-95% mencía with other grapes (such as brancellao, merenzao, mouratón [juan garcía], bastardo and garnacha tintorera), in a field blend.
For this wine 40% whole clusters were included, the must was raised in old barrels for 11 months with no racking and no SO2 added until bottling.
Lousas Viña de Aldea 2016 (Envínate)
Cherry red. Red fruits and flowers on top, white pepper and herbs. It has a mineral edge and a, long, cool acidity.
It’s fresh, elegant and in my opinion more than a typical “village wine”. It bears the subtitle Vino Atlántico, which is very appropriate, as the influence from the ocean is evident.
