The red, iron-rich clays near Gramona’s farmhouse in the Alt Penedès
I accidentally wandered into the switching-on of the Christmas lights in Vilafranca del Penedès on Friday night. The streets were full, the traditional Spanish evening-walk-around for coffee and pastries (before beer...and dinner...do people here sleep?) reduced to a crawl thanks to buggies and baffled dogs. A machine spurted out fake snow over the crowd, through which I noticed a jamon advent calendar in a shop window. Children were thrusting coats into outstretched hands whilst queuing up for the small ice rink.
That afternoon I was at Raventós i Blanc, walking the vineyard with Pepe Raventós. As we crossed through the forest which partially shades some of the North facing old vine Xarel-lo used for Pepe's Serral del Vell, past sheep and pigs which form part of his vision for a 'whole-farm' way of thinking, we emerged, facing South, back towards the family home (and, across the road, the turrets of the sprawling Cordoniu head offices). It was 21 degrees. I took my coat off.
I have been tasting Penedès sparkling wines this week for an upcoming Tim Atkin report. Am I especially qualified to judge these? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Bubbles are bubbles, but I'm not a beer judge, or a soda judge. Yes, these wines are traditional method. But do they really share anything else with Champagne? I'm not sure. I sometimes wonder if some approach these wines unable to shake the hope that they will be - in some way - champagne-like.
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