Under the Andes, Argentina
The Best of Both
Mendoza in Argentina is one of the great wine regions of the world, yet remains relatively undiscovered. Heidi Dodd reveals why the weak peso makes it a must for South Africans.
I'm in Mendoza, Argentina, for the third time this year. I love coming here, not only because I have a small vineyard but also because it’s like being in Europe and Latin America at the same time – one minute you’re in Italy or Spain, but turn the corner and suddenly you’re in a sleepy, dusty town south-of-the-border.
The province of Mendoza is one of the world’s great wine regions and the centre of Argentina’s wine industry. It sits at the edge of the Andes and is known for spectacular landscapes, adventure activities (think skiing, rafting, climbing, trekking) and wine, with an emphasis on Malbec, the country’s signature grape. The provincial capital, also called Mendoza, is actually closer to Santiago, Chile, than to Buenos Aires. It’s no backwater, but the pace is slow and the residents keep odd hours. Siesta remains popular. At 1pm most shops and businesses close, and everybody heads home for a leisurely lunch followed by a quick nap. The city perks up again around 5pm, still considered “the afternoon” which lasts until roughly 9pm. Dinner starts any time after 10pm. Fancy a tango show? Don’t bother showing up before midnight.
It takes me a few days to adjust to this routine. I like my sleep (the irony being I rarely find time to take siesta) and my schedule is jammed. I have some vineyard issues to address, such as a leaky reservoir, and a long list of wineries and new restaurants that I want to visit. There are over 900 wineries or bodegas in Mendoza. About 25 are worth visiting, claims Charlie O’Malley, the editor of Wine Republic, the local wine magazine. I aim for eight and for a variety of reasons – the roads aren’t great, signs often don’t exist, and no two maps are ever the same – I limit my range to downtown, suburban Maipú, Luján de Cuyo and the Uco Valley.
Wining and dining downtown
Winery is the newest wine destination downtown – a shop, bistro and bar under one roof, in this case a 1914 mansion built by Emilio Civit, a prominent local politician. It’s very stylish, a palette of black and white with art-deco details, ingrained wood floors and chandeliers. The shop stocks many interesting wines and spirits, including Amarula (quite exotic here). The bistro offers tapas, salads, pastas and heavier meat dishes. I eat lunch here twice and am not disappointed – not surprising considering the kitchen is managed by Almacén del Sur, a local gourmet delicatessen with a line of spreads, sauces and preserves found in up-market stores around the world, including Harrods.
Another must-visit is The Vines of Mendoza where you can taste over 90 boutique Argentine wines and, if you’re so inclined, buy into their Private Vineyard Estates and have your own vineyard. I try many wines here, including Bressia Profundo 2002, a Malbec, Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah and Merlot blend loaded with plums, blueberries and chocolate; Conalbi Grinberg Grand Reserve Malbec 2003, rich with an intriguing green olive nose; Carmelo Patti Cabernet Sauvignon 2003, dusty, vegetal, and Old World; and a big, gamey Achaval Ferrar Cabernet Franc 2005.
If you’re thinking that only Argentina’s red wines are good, think again. Reds are clearly the stars, but there are many lovely whites made from Chardonnay (look for Catena Zapata) and Sauvignon Blanc (try Pulenta Estate or Doña Paula). Semillon, Chenin and Viognier are also found, but my favourite is Torrontés, a grape unique to Argentina that produces incredibly aromatic wines.
The best Torrontés comes from high altitude vineyards (up to 2 300m) in the northern province of Salta. My picks: Colomé 2006 or 2007 (intense roses and citrus), Alta Vista Premium 2007 (white flowers and peaches), Ciclos 2007 (delicate with a mineral edge), and José Mounier 2007 (sweet litchis and citrus).
Maipú’s family wineries, country restaurants and flat roads make it a popular destination for wine-related bike tours. I meet my vineyard manager at La Encantada, a perfect place to ease into Mendoza. The setting, a winery compound dating from 1897, is peaceful and the food delicious – regional cuisine cranked up a notch. Our fixed menu includes fiambres, mixed cheeses, cured meats, olives and breads, and empanadas de carne, little meat pies and the unofficial national snack. The main course, pollo al disco, is unusual and very traditional: a rich chicken and vegetable stew cooked using part of a plough. The wine, Tempus Pleno 2004, a black cherry/ chocolate-flavoured blend of Malbec, Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot from neighbourhood winery Tempus Alba, is just as delicious.
At Domaine du Mont, a charming restaurant set in a Victorian house and garden just down the road, Canadian chef Jasmine Montgomery makes irresistible desserts. I stuff myself with little lemon meringue tarts and Boston cream pie. I make a note that she serves high tea on the weekends and, for health reasons, decide to come by bike next time.
Days of wine and llamas
Achaval Ferrer is in Luján de Cuyo, known locally as “the Land of Malbec”. I’m struck immediately by the small, rather basic winery. I guess I expected more from one of the wineries that put Argentina on the world wine map. “We designed it over an asado [a braai] in the mountains,” Santiago Achaval tells me, “and salvaged what we could from a nearby cement factory that was closing down.” He is a practical man, a former accountant who fell in love with wine while studying at Stanford University in California. In 1998 he and friends bought a vineyard in the Uco Valley, followed by a second property a year later.
Achaval says the vineyard, Malbec planted in 1925, was in terrible shape, almost derelict. Just two days after the purchase they harvested what they could, fermented the grapes, and hoped for the best. The wine, Finca Altamira 1999, became the first Argentine wine to rate 5 Stars in UK magazine Decanter and continues to score high marks year after year from just about every international wine magazine.
Achaval claims he doesn’t take wine scores too seriously; his goal is to showcase Malbec and how it reflects terroir. “In Mendoza, the best translation for the land is Malbec,” he says, and I begin to see what he means over a horizontal tasting of his limited-production, single-vineyard Malbecs, all produced from very old, low-yield vines. The vintage is 2007 (being bottled as we sip) and the differences are striking: Finca Mirador is rich with blueberries and black fruit, while Finca Altamira is stronger and earthy, with loads of black olives, and Finca Bella Vista, which lost both its 2005 and 2006 harvests to hail (a constant worry for vineyard owners here) is an elegant, smooth combination of the two.
I leave with a new appreciation for terroir (and inspiration for my own vineyard’s potential) and head to Catena Zapata. My visit here is surprisingly underwhelming. This is probably Argentina’s most famous winery and I’m eager to try some of the wines that have scored 95+ points in US magazines Wine Spectator and The Wine Advocate, but all we get is one glass of Alamo Malbec 2007, available in every restaurant in town. To their credit the tour and tasting are free and other wines are available to taste by the glass (for a fee), but few of my fellow tourists linger – most finish their wine, snap a few photos of the Mayan-inspired winery, and leave.
A few days later I join a Trout & Wine tour and visit four wineries in seven hours. French-owned Alta Vista is an interesting mix of technology and tradition – I’m fascinated by the old concrete fermentation tanks with four short legs, designed for fires underneath (to regulate temperatures inside). In contrast Sottano is completely modern. We taste fives wines here, all reds. The Classic Cabernet Sauvignon 2005 is particularly nice, with a meaty delicatessen nose.
Over lunch at Ruca Malen, I ask the others in my group – two young New Yorkers – why they chose Mendoza. “We like wine, it’s cheaper than Europe and we don’t know anybody who’s been here,” they tell me. I can relate to that.
Our last stop is Tapiz, the ill-fated venture of US mega-winery Kendall Jackson now owned by the local Ortiz family. The visit starts with a horse-drawn carriage ride through the vineyards. The vines aren’t very pretty (it’s winter), but when I spot about 20 llamas playing between the rows, I have to smile – the scene is so South America. In the bodega we follow our guide, spit bucket and wine thief in hand, and taste wine straight from barrels and tanks. It’s nearly 5pm – my group figures we’ve tasted over 20 wines since 10am, our teeth and lips are purple and we’re glad for the lift home.
Altitude and attitude
About an hour south of Mendoza lies the Uco Valley, an area known for high vineyards (averaging 900–1 200m) and for attracting international winemakers with architecturally stunning wineries. If only they put up signs as well. I arrive 30 minutes late at O. Fournier, a winery resembling a giant spaceship, and then can’t find the visitor’s entrance. Another 20 minutes pass before I meet Natalia, my guide – but she’s completely unfazed by my delay.
I spend a lot of time here, admiring the gravity-only design, start-of-the-art technology and special features like the art exhibition in the barrel room. Natalia tells me the owner, José Manuel Ortega Gil-Fournier, from Spain, dreams of being a “mini Robert Mondavi” and plans to invest US$8 million. I’m discouraged (my budget isn’t quite that big) but enjoy lunch at Urban, the winery’s restaurant. Nadia Haron, a pharmacist turned chef (and Mrs. O. Fournier), presides over the kitchen. She tells me “cooking is just like chemistry,” then asks if I am enjoying her six-course lunch. I am. Haron’s food is lovely, as are the wines: Alfa Crux 2001 and Beta Crux 2004, Tempranillo, Malbec and Merlot blends named after the brightest stars in the Southern Cross.
Dutch-owned Salentein is another great Uco Valley stop. In fact, it’s a complete wine tourist destination, with an impressive winery, gourmet restaurant, luxury inn and quaint chapel. It also houses the Killka Collection, an art museum with 19th and 20th century Dutch art and works by modern Argentine artists. You could easily spend a day here.
After two hours I drive to Altus, at the foot of volcano Mt. Tupungato, where I have reservations at La Tupiña, the winery’s highly recommended restaurant. I meet chef Lucas Bustos in the rustic kitchen busily attending to a number of pots and pans on the fire, all full of fresh ingredients from the restaurant’s garden and butchery. This is a long, leisurely, satisfying lunch. Bustos begins with 10 traditional Argentine tapas served by him personally. The dishes which follow – ratatouille lasagne and beef cooked in milk and Chardonnay – are a blur thanks to the free-flowing Altus wines, a lightbodied, spicy Syrah and juicy, clove-flavoured Malbec, both from 2007. The desserts are local favourites: huevos quimbos, a chilled sponge cake soaked in egg syrup, and frozen cheese with Malbec and quince jelly.
The average Argentine eats 67kg of beef per year, and a trip here isn’t complete without visiting a parilla or steakhouse. I try Don Candido – not a difficult decision since it’s across the road from where I’m staying and I’ve been smelling the place for days. Like a soldier smoked out of his foxhole, I surrender, walk over and feast on chicken, beef ribs and pork loin cooked perfectly over a wood fire.
As I leave, my waiter says I should try the house specialty next time: baby suckling pig so tender they cut it with a plate. I’m hooked and convince him to open early, at 9pm, the following Thursday. As it happens, my Argentine guests arrive late and we don’t get to the restaurant until 11pm. But the food, wine and company are so good that I forget the late hour and my new vineyard problems, and wish my trip were a little longer.
Heidi Dodd is a freelance writer based in Johannesburg. She owns a vineyard in Luján de Cuyo, Mendoza.
