In an era when bottles are increasingly being labelled and recognised by variety, the plethora of names is confusing for the consumer and also makes it difficult for the grape to establish a convenient varietal profile. However, there is method in this madness: the same grape cultivated in a variety of regions will adapt according to the conditions in which it grows and produce styles of wine that are not always the same. A comparison could be drawn with the smaller Italian region of Tuscany where Sangiovese is the leading variety. It is called Brunello in the hilly district of Montalcino and referred to as Morellino in the southwest, where the temperature is generally warmer than the rest of the region, producing a rounder, riper style of wine. Its presence in Chianti, arguably Tuscany’s most well-known wine, is only acknowledged on a back label. Although that wine enjoys worldwide recognition, most consumers would be hard pressed to name the variety that it is made from.

The variety that is the mainstay of Rioja, another international wine celebrity, suffers a similar lack of familiarity so I’d like to shed a little more light on this Iberian hero in this article.

Tempranillo takes its name from the word ‘temprano’ meaning early, referring both to the relatively early harvest and the budding of the vines. Even in the cooler and higher regions of Rioja Alavesa and Alta, it can be harvested two weeks before Garnacha grown in the much hotter Rioja Baja. It is possible that the grape was documented in Ribera del Duero as early as the 13th Century, but the reference applies to ‘Las Tempraniellas’ so appears to be a generic listing rather than specifically Tempranillo.

Some 600 years later it was noted by Clemente y Rubio as a praiseworthy variety with mention given to Logroño in Rioja and Peralta in Navarra. These neighbouring districts might both be the origin of the variety rather than Ribero del Duero: they are certainly areas where the grape flourishes. It multiplied quickly, albeit from a small amount of clones, most of which were created in these two regions and then spread throughout the country.

Ribera’s claim to be the birthplace of Tempranillo (where it’s called Tinta del País and Tinto Fino) comes from the possible (even incestuous) relationship between it and the white grape Albillo Mayor. Much of Tempranillo’s history is vague and this connection equally so as it has never been documented which variety was the parent!

What cannot be doubted is the geographical spread of the grape. There are probably only three or four areas of Spain where Tempranillo is not the dominant variety. It has not found favour in the north and north west of the country where Mencía is popular, nor in the southern region of Andalucía. The enclave of Campo de Borja, Calatyud and Rioja Baja is home to Garnacha. Tempranillo does not like wind or drought which perhaps explains its choice of location or conversely absence but it is a relatively hardy and healthy grape so will survive in arid conditions such as Toro, particularly where the vines have been able to lay down deep enough roots.

Across the border in Portugal it is a respected grape; indeed one of the few Spanish varieties that is. Known as Tinta Roriz in the northern regions of Dão and the Douro and Aragónez in the more southerly district of the Alentejo, it is often blended rather than seen as a self-standing varietal.The area under vine has increased notably since 2004 and like Spain, the grape thrives at altitude, notably over 600 metres a.s.l. Its presence in Argentina is not a surprise, but the use of DNA profiling has also shown that Tempranillo has been planted in Italy. In keeping with the vagueness that surrounds the variety, it was grown as Malvasia Nera!

Having experienced that grape on a few occasions in Tuscany, I would never have made the connection based purely on taste, but as I wrote earlier, grapes adopt different characters in other settings.

Apart from the bewildering number of names it carries, what causes Tempranillo’s inability to be truly respected or recognised in the way that say Syrah or even Garnacha are?

I believe much of this comes down to its character. It is fairly gentle in all aspects – not overtly fruity like Cabernet Sauvignon, nor tannic like Monastrell (Mourvѐdre) or sturdy like Syrah. It’s an unassuming all-rounder, not given to eye-catching dramatics so while it is the sole variety in good Rioja such as Viña Alberdi or the crowd pleasing wines of Los Llanos in Valdepeñas, it’s easy to dismiss it as a work horse variety.

Tempranillo should really be recognised as a truly unselfish grape worthy of a nomination as ‘best supporting act in a blend’, even if it represents the highest percentage of one. Yes, I know we’ve passed the Oscar season but as we head towards Easter, the role of Tempranillo could vaguely be considered sacrificial.

I believe much of this comes down to its character. It is fairly gentle in all aspects – not overtly fruity like Cabernet Sauvignon, nor tannic like Monastrell (Mourvѐdre) or sturdy like Syrah. It’s an unassuming all-rounder, not given to eye-catching dramatics so while it is the sole variety in good Rioja such as Viña Alberdi or the crowd pleasing wines of Los Llanos in Valdepeñas, it’s easy to dismiss it as a work horse variety. Tempranillo should really be recognised as a truly unselfish grape worthy of a nomination as ‘best supporting act in a blend’, even if it represents the highest percentage of one. Yes, I know we’ve passed the Oscar season but as we head towards Easter, the role of Tempranillo could vaguely be considered sacrificial.

If sacrificial is too extreme, chameleon-like would be appropriate. The variety seems to soak up any flavours or nuances of those grapes or oak surrounding it. Its affinity with American oak in Rioja gives it a mild strawberry flavour, whereas in Ribera del Duero, it reflects the spice and sturdiness of the French oak more commonly used there. The softer tannins and lower acidity levels of Tempranillo combine with the more acerbic nature of Mazuelo in Rioja blends. Garnacha on its own might be too alcoholic or flabby, Graciano supremely elegant but scarce, so blending together with Tempranillo freshens up the former and bulks out the latter. It also brings out the best of all these varieties and the supremely select and long-lived Gran Reserva 904 from the La Rioja Alta estate is a classic example of how Graciano is enhanced and far more expressive than the rare monovarietal Riojas that one can find.

Historically, Tempranillo and Cabernet Sauvignon have been very successful partners, not just in Navarra where its proximity to France led to the introduction of the grape but further afield in Ribera del Duero where the Vega Sicilia and Peñalba Lopez estates had long recognised the beauty of using the sophisticated Cabernet with the more prosaic Tinta del País. It’s easy to forget that most of the current area under vine here has only taken place in the last 40 years, spurred on initially by the influential and all-pervading preference of Robert Parker for ‘big’ wines and an inability of estates to expand in Rioja.

The altitude and diurnal temperatures in the region create Tempranillo that has more colour and a fleshier character than those from Rioja but in the initial days of Ribera’s new popularity in the 1980s, the lower skills of vinification led to blunt, unbalanced wines not worthy of the price tags applied to them. Experts like Tomás Postigo raised the level and created wines with both power and balance, combining judicious use of Cabernet Sauvignon and French oak. The average age of vintages in Ribera is considerably lower than that of Rioja so considerable care and skill is needed to achieve this balance and not to create wines with monstrous bodies and spindly legs (sadly still too often on display around the world). Tempranillo isn’t an attention seeker, but please treat it with the respect it deserves.

Happy drinking!

WORDS PHILIP HARRIS

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