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A vineyard and lone house in the rolling hills of Galicia on the Camino de Santiago, Spain.
(Image credit: Laurent Fox / Getty Images)

Those of us who work in and with Spanish wine go on, passionately and relentlessly, about how exciting the Spanish wine scene is, how it has evolved dramatically in the last two decades and how it is home to some of the world’s (often overlooked) standout producers – those now crafting the present and future classics.

This relentlessness is driven by an ever renewed sense of wonder: discovering Spanish wine is an ongoing journey, punctuated by reliable favourites and offbeat surprises, never predictable and always enjoyable.

The country’s history, geology and topography have given rise to terroir diversity and viticultural singularity – amplified by equally diverse, vibrant communities of growers and winemakers.

The urge to convert those who roam the world unaware of Spain’s wine riches stems from the fact that we too once lived in darkness. Until a bottle, visit or encounter opened our eyes and palates – forever changing, in many cases, personal and professional trajectories.

Some found themselves living in Spain, either temporarily or permanently, and building businesses and families on Spanish soil. Others have become leading voices in Spanish wine production, trade and education.

We asked Decanter contributors, Decanter World Wine Awards judges, winemakers, buyers and restaurateurs about that one pivotal bottle that marked a ‘before and after’ in their personal Spanish wine journeys, and to which they return for delicious nostalgia.

Think of it as their Proustian wine madeleine moment, imbued with Spanish hedonism. Here’s how and why they fell in love with Spain, its wines and its people.


Peter Sisseck

Founder-winemaker of Dominio de Pingus, Ribera del Duero, and others

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(Image credit: Credit Unknown)

Seduced by old-vine Tempranillo

When I arrived in Ribera del Duero, more than 35 years ago, the region was still a sleeping giant. What first captivated me was the raw, untamed energy of its old-vine Tempranillo: dark fruit, firm tannins, a freshness born of altitude and limestone soils. It was not a polished wine, but it carried an honesty and depth that felt timeless, as if the landscape itself had been poured into the glass.

Over the decades I’ve witnessed the region grow and refine itself, yet that first sense of wonder remains unchanged. Each time I taste those vineyards again, I’m reminded why I fell in love with Spain. I’ve had several memorable tastings and encounters since. I still remember the first time I met Alejandro Fernández [of Tinto Pesquera]. I’d been living in Spain for a few years and had just released the first vintage of Hacienda Monasterio (in the west of the region).

He came to see me and said: ‘I’ve just tasted your wine! It’s not very good… but at least you didn’t try to copy me, like everyone else. So I just want to give you a good piece of advice: Tempranillo expresses itself better in American oak.’ (Hacienda Monasterio has always used exclusively French oak.) I still remember the happiness it gave me. I never followed his advice, but we became great friends until he sadly passed away a few years ago.


Richard Bigg

Founder of London restaurant group Camino and Bar Rioja

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(Image credit: Credit Unknown)

An Andalusían initiation

My first trip to Spain was in 1984: a road trip all the way south to Málaga. Andalusía in the heat of summer was exhilarating. While there I discovered Sherry properly; first trying small ice-cold glasses of fino and manzanilla alongside almonds, jamón and montaditos (bread-and-topping tapas), branching out into the myriad other styles – and all from just three grape varieties.

It was mind-blowing how these delicious, high-quality and extraordinarily unique wines could be such amazing value. And Sherry is surely the most versatile category of all when it comes to food matching. I’ve been back to Jerez and the surrounding regions countless times and even had a house inland for many years.

Most recently I was extremely lucky to be invited by González Byass to the week-long Feria de Jerez festival – spectacular!


Norrel Robertson MW

Owner & winemaker, El Escocés Volante, Aragón

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(Image credit: Credit Unknown)

Iconic Rioja gateway

The first Spanish wine I fell for was the 1964 Castillo Ygay Gran Reserva Especial Tinto from Bodegas Marqués de Murrieta. I discovered it in the 1990s while working at Oddbins and bought six bottles. They didn’t last long. Aged for 23 years before release, it sums up all the greatness of classic aged Rioja where the winery – and time – does the hard yards and lets the drinker bathe in the resulting glory.

Even now, decades later, it remains a benchmark in my mind. Some years ago, we were lucky enough to have a bottle of the 1925 vintage. It was remarkable – surprisingly youthful, fresh and vibrant. Spain has many treasures – I’m a huge fan of Jerez – but for me, Castillo Ygay was the gateway.


Beth Willard

Madrid-based wine consultant, communicator and judge; DWWA Co-Chair

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(Image credit: Credit Unknown)

A maritime attack on the senses

Txakolí may not receive the praise of Rioja, Ribera del Duero or even Rías Baixas, but it is the style and region that inexorably lured me into Spanish wine. I was living in Bordeaux and one weekend drove down to San Sebastián, just over the border on Spain’s northern coast.

It was at once a coup de coeur and a wild attack on all my senses: the delicious pintxo snacks, the noise of the bars packed like a tin of the wonderful anchovies they were serving, and the drama of the long pour from vertiginous height of the Basque Country’s local wine.

A country that can produce a wine with such a unique identity, anchored in its local gastronomy and intrinsic to its culture, this is for me. This is Spain!


Sarah Jane Evans MW

Awarded wine journalist, author and consultant with a particular focus on Spain and Sherry

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(Image credit: Credit Unknown)

Branded by the Marco de Jerez

My Spanish wine madeleine, the one that takes me straight back to a place with a feeling of joy, is – you guessed it – Sherry. In my gap year in the country, and subsequently as a student at Cambridge, I discovered finos. Later I plunged into the glorious explosion of oxidative styles. And now there are the ‘albariza’ table wines, also made from the Palomino Fino variety.

I first got to know the Marco de Jerez region through its brand names (notably Garvey’s San Patricio and Domecq’s La Ina). Later I made the connection with smaller names and, crucially, the people behind the wines. I have gone on to drink my way across the map of Spain’s vineyards, but there’s a special space in my heart for Sherry country and its people.


Fintan Kerr

Barcelona-based wine writer, educator, judge and guide

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(Image credit: Credit Unknown)

Captured by Priorat, by way of Ribera del Duero

The first wine that really made me sit up and pay attention to this beautiful country came via an informal wine tasting in Barcelona. The rich, layered Tempranillo of Tomas Postigo, livened by the acidity that comes with the high elevations of Ribera del Duero, was an immediate gateway to what has been a very happy 10 years, thus far, dedicated to Spanish wine!

The majesty and beauty of Priorat immediately captured my heart in a way that hasn’t been replicated since. The rolling slopes of schist and slate, the subtle aromas of dried herbs and earth on the air, the incredible views across the undulating valleys and, of course, the stunning, concentrated and deeply terroir-specific wines of the region.

Exploring Clos Mogador with the iconic René Barbier Sr was an experience I’ll never forget, and I’ve been a fan of the estate ever since.


Pierre Mansour

Director of wine at The Wine Society; DWWA joint Regional Chair for Spain

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Falling for Garnacha
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Like so many, my first step into Spanish wine was through Rioja, but my true love affair with Spain began with Garnacha. In the 2000s, I was given Spain to buy for The Wine Society, and as I explored, I was bowled over by the quality and variety produced from this underrated grape.

What struck me most was the common thread running through the best Garnachas I tasted: a younger generation of winemakers, obsessed with creating wines that truly reflected their place. I adored their purity and subtlety – understated, honest expressions that, to me, symbolised the wonderful Spanish people behind them. And the absolute standout was the Sanz family in Navarra.

They had just founded Viña Zorzal, approaching old vineyards with fresh eyes and crafting wines with a beautifully low intervention touch.


Manu Michelini

Winemaker in Rioja and Bierzo, native of Uco Valley, Argentina

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(Image credit: Tim Atkin MW)

Beginning of a quest for excellence

The wine that first shaped my fascination with Spanish wine was Bodegas Forjas del Salnés, María Luisa Lázaro, a Rías Baixas Albariño with extended ageing only released in exceptional vintages.

Its minerality and freshness opened my eyes to the incredible diversity of Spanish wine, leaving an indelible imprint. Another landmark wine was a 1964 Viña Real Rioja. It moved me deeply and led me to embark on the quest to recreate those great 20th-century wines that represent the essence of Rioja Alavesa.


Noah Chichester

New York-based wine writer and educator specialising in Galician wine

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Blown away by a surprise classic

I had barely started drinking wine when we took a family vacation to New Hampshire. There, at the state-run liquor stores – much cheaper than our home state of New York – my parents bought a mixed case to bring home with us.

Among the bottles was a Marqués de Cáceres, Gran Reserva Rioja 2010. We opened it up at Thanksgiving. My world up to this point had been limited to $12 Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon or brand-name American wine and, simply put, my mind was blown. How could a wine taste like this? Leather, tobacco, coffee (or was it chocolate?), spiced plums…

A few years later, I would go on to live in Spain, and drink a lot more Rioja. And even though I now write about (and drink a lot of) Galician wine, sometimes I still think about the first bottle that made it clear Spanish wine had something special.


Ines Salpico
Editor

Ines is Decanter’s regional editor for Spain, Portugal and South America. Born and raised in Lisbon, Portugal, she grew up chasing her grandfather among his vines in Ribatejo and thus her love for all things wine began. After completing her Masters Degree in Architecture, Ines worked as a project manager while writing about wine and doing cellar consulting on the side. After moving to London in 2015, she decided to dedicate herself fully to the wine industry and joined the sommelier team at Michelin-starred Spring, Somerset House. Stints at Noble Rot and The Laughing Heart followed, while completing her WSET Diploma in Wines and Spirits. Her work as a judge and writer eventually became her full time commitment and she joined Decanter in 2019 as wine database editor.