Las Muchas Riojas del Rioja: una Historia de Encrucijadas

The Many Riojas of Rioja: A Tale of Forking Paths

BY JOAQUÍN HIDALGO | APRIL 18, 2024

It’s evening in La Rioja. The last rays of sunlight filter through the clouds that hang over the fields, illuminating the sandstone walls of the Ermita de Peciña hermitage on the slopes of the Sierra de Cantabria. From this vantage point, one has an excellent view of much of the region, spreading out to the southeast in different stages. Visible are the foothills of Sonsierra—a patchwork of parceled vineyards, terraces and pale, bare late-autumn soils. Ochre-hued vines blend with reddish earth along the banks of the meandering Ebro River. There are villages scattered here and there, and the Sierra de la Cebollera peaks are beyond, covered in a light dusting of snow. The plains of Rioja Oriental and the rising slopes of Mount Yerga lie further away and out of sight. The different Riojas make for quite the postcard image. There’s a reason they built this hermitage here back in the 10th century. This spot is conducive to deep reflection. 

The Labastida vineyards at sunset. These Tempranillo vines are planted on the slopes of the Sierra del Toloño, where limestone soils abound.

I write Riojas, plural, to make a point. There’s the single, monolithic idea of Rioja, a giant founded on grapes from different areas and extensive barrel aging, and then there are the others—the different locations, pockets and settings that only reveal their distinctive qualities when you zoom in, nuanced variations that today many producers work hard to bring into the spotlight. It is thanks to these contrasts that one of the most famous regions in the world is still an exciting adventure for the enterprising palate. 

Today, Rioja has two speeds. The first is set by the big producers who are responsible for the region’s worldwide fame and its association with extensive oak aging. The second is the more dynamic side, where producers display pride in their place of origin and stylistic choices, more interested in bringing out individual characters than adhering to an established style. 

A few numbers give a sense of the sheer scale of the enterprise. The region’s 66,000 hectares under vine yield 325,000,000 bottles per year (2023), of which a small handful of wineries account for over ten percent. Their business models are investment-oriented: the longer a wine is kept in the cellar, the higher the price it can fetch when it eventually hits the market. On the other hand, numerous small and mid-sized producers have taken up the gauntlet, reassessing styles with a range of different outcomes. Some, as is true of Telmo Rodríguez, Artadi, Abel Mendoza or Álvaro Palacios, have already succeeded in establishing an identity and enjoy significant prestige. Many others are still very much in the development stage, bottling different parcels and small vineyards. These include Diego Magaña at Anza, Tom Puyaubert at Exopto, José Gil at Vignerons de la Sonsierra and Arturo De Miguel Blanco at Artuke—four entirely different styles. This trend among producers is especially prominent in Sonsierra. Between them, they paint a picture of overwhelming diversity. As Mariasún Ostatu, a producer in Samaniego, said to me during our visit to his highest vineyards, “Today, Rioja is like a train crash.” You can’t get more graphic than that.

For this report, I spent a little over two weeks in Rioja between November and December 2023. I visited over 30 vineyards, ranging in size from just a few rows to estates spanning well over 100 hectares. I toured some wineries that were little more than a few barrels in an old house and others capable of supplying the whole country with wine. I tasted almost 800 wines with their makers, listening to all their different visions of Rioja. By the end, I felt that I was witnessing something momentous, not just because of the excellent wines being produced in the different Riojas but because of the contagious enthusiasm of the producers in the region today.  

In the Rioja Oriental, formerly known as Rioja Baja, it was still possible to see active plants, just entering autumn in November. The slopes of Monte Yerga are in the foreground, and the Ebro Valley is in the background. The city of Alfaro is visible in the upper left corner.

Around the Hermitage and the Caves

Touring the parcel vineyards of San Vicente de la Sonsierra, Laguardia and Samaniego, I came across a number of ancient wineries carved right into the sandstone. They abound in the foothills of Sierra de Cantabria, especially the ridge of vineyards known jointly as the Sonsierra. The Sonsierra is an arch that rises north from the Ebro to Navarra, along the bottom of the Sierra. Wineries here contain stone lagar presses and tanks. Accompanied at the hermitage by graveyard niches, these characteristics indicate the historical importance of the area and also serve to remind us that the wines we drink today are as ephemeral as we are.

The Sierra de Cantabria is a calcareous, forested formation covered in vines, rising to a height of 800 meters. This part of Rioja is also known as Atlantic for its damp, cloudy climate. In political terms, it lies mostly in Rioja Alavesa—run by the autonomous Basque government—except for a pocket in the middle that lies within the boundaries of the autonomous region of Rioja.  

I toured the Monte Yerga with Álvaro Palacios, a legend in Garnacha, which he interprets in Rioja in a nuanced style with infusion-like qualities and vibrant acidity.

Sonsierra is the realm of smallholding. Every sector has its own significance to producers. Let’s return to Ermita de Peciña, set upon a ridge in the Sierra with streams running on either side that eventually merge into the Canoca—a spot that winemakers discuss in hallowed tones. Here, clay soils mingle with calcareous material from the Sierra. I walked along the riverbed one freezing December morning with Marcos Eguren, whose company is called Sierra Cantabria. We visited a vineyard at the heart of Canoca, where they make San Vicente, a red that established new parameters for the interpretation of Rioja back in 1991. “I made it with grapes from a vineyard that had belonged to my great-grandfather: 18 hectares of high-quality Tempranillo, small berries and loose bunches, with a distinctive character,” Eguren told me. 

Around that time, a few producers began to make wines with the concept of “high expression,” in contrast to those that tended to be subdued by the aging process. A direct consequence of this New-World-inflected approach was the emergence of several other producers, now well-established, who came to these slopes to source their grapes. Telmo Rodríguez did so at Las Beatas, not far from the Ermita, a vineyard he patiently restored that now yields wines that exhibit great delicacy and nuance. Carlos San Pedro at Pujanza did the same, delving into the old vineyards of the area to bring out the true Sonsierra character. They laid the foundations for an approach that blossomed into a fertile, energetic regional winemaking movement.

Bodega Rioja Alta’s San Felices Vineyard is one of those located at the mouth of the Ebro into Rioja. The river enters through the throat of limestone rocks.

Of all the wines I tasted for this report, those from Sonsierra were by far the most distinctive. There’s something about the combination of sandstone, calcareous material and clay that, along with the Atlantic climate, lends these wines a delicate, chalky texture with refined but energetic tannins. It’s a consummately viticultural region (I didn’t see a single crop that was not grape vines) planted along traditional lines. Where the soils are shallowest, one finds Viura, while Tempranillo forms the core and Mazuelo, and Graciano evens things out as the soils grow deeper. This mixture is a good recipe for elegant reds; Tempranillo’s palate of red fruit and herbs meets complementary hints of balsamic and dark fruit flavors lent by the other varieties.   

Because there are so many different parcels, Sonsierra is also the hub of greatest experimentation across Rioja as producers seek to develop their own identity. To see for yourself, I recommend stopping in the compact medieval village of Laguardia. There, you’ll find a restaurant called Svgar; a teetotaler runs it and acts as a gathering place and cantina for local producers. It serves legendary txulteón—the perfect accompaniment to the region’s wines.