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Dehesa de Rubiales Alaia 2004
| 65% Tempranillo and 35% Pietro Piculo |
| Country: Spain |
| Region: Castilla y León |
| Price Paid: $6.99 |
| Date Tasted: July 10, 2007 |
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APPEARANCE:
Very attractive deep ruby color to this wine, with violet highlights; the relative density is a good omen.
ON THE NOSE:
Quite a lot of fruit here, dominated by sour cherry and sweet cherry, some black currant, figs, and just a hint of lime. A nice nose which offers a little something different: it reminds one of musty items taken from the basement, of cardboard accidentally left out in the rain, the insides of an old flea-market leather purse, the back seat of an old Mercedes with Tex-Mex seats, dried rolling tobacco, old hospital flowers, all covered in a light coating of cherry-caramel topping. Give this wine a chance (i.e. three hours or more) and the nose will eventually reward you with an enticing blend of tart and sweet. It is obvious this is not the nose of a thoroughbred, but aware that we popped open a $7 wine we are more than satisfied with what is here.
ON THE PALATE:
A very tart attack which one would expect to be followed by, well, something, but this wine takes a few moments to settle into the mid-palate, and when it does it offers an unusually subtle sweet cream and caramel with medium to light soft but round tannins which flow down to the gums and into the cheeks, then the wine bounces up to the palate-proper with sour cherry that is disjointed, finishing with – bear with me here – a woody, metal plate of sour-cherry pits. The mouthfeel is medium but plush and satiny. The spike from attack to palate is indeed angular and not well polished, yet the sour-sweet (definitely not sweet-sour) combination works in its way, I suppose, though not making us admit that this is a particularly good wine; only much later did I say “Hmm, not too bad!”
We’re always looking for a decent quaffer, Darcey and I, and whenever we open a “cheapie” like this (generally under $10) we find ourselves stating that perhaps this could be the one. It rarely is, and this Spanish contender is no exception: it probably won’t find its way into our quaffer coffers, ultimately, though not a bad little Tuesday-night wine at all, one we wouldn’t feel bad about not finishing, leaving some, perhaps, for the morning (something to remind me why I go into the office). Still, this Alaia gets better over time, so if you have a bottle definitely give it some time to gain its composure; if we get another bottle we’ll leave it open for four hours before touching it. The tannins end up being more balanced than originally anticipated, making the tart cherry seem more well-adjusted than it actually is. The finish, too, becomes less metallic and a bit sweeter after several hours, but never do we feel the need to add this to our next case either. All in all a good bottle and worth every nickel, which is much more than I can say for many, many wines that I have tried at the $7 price point. $7 indeed seems to be the new $5, just as $12 is the new $10. In context, then, this wine easily offers $7 worth of enjoyment with a solid 85 point rating. And THAT, my friends, is how we see it. Drink one yourself and let us know!
(Click here for an explanation of our ratings ...)
Our Rating: 85
Would we drink it again? 
Yes, I wouldn't mind drinking her again.
Would we buy it again? 
Likely no.
About the Pietro Piculo Grape Variety
I could find out nothing about a grape variety with this name, but in learning about wine one discovers quickly that the same grape variety can have many, many different names, often with regional names that bear no resemblance to other names for the same variety.
I did find a listing for a “Prieto Picudo” grape, which says that this grape is “black … produces very aromatic, distinctive wines, rather light in color but very pleasant. Plentiful in Zamora and Castile y León.” Sounds like this must be our grape!
About the Castilla y León Region
The very origins of Spain's history as a modern nation can be found in this ancient land north-northwest of the capital Madrid. It is a large region made up of nine provinces. Previously known as Old Castile, it is a mix of flat and open plains girded by chains of hills and mountains, and home to some of Spain's finest historical heritage. The region is traversed by the graceful Duero River which has acquired international fame for nurturing the great Port wines in Portugal where the watercourse is known as the Douro. Back in Spain, the Duero has long been a friend of Spanish wine and has recently played protagonist to some of Spain's most influential and cutting-edge regions.
For the most part, Castilla y León's fame falls heavily on its red wine, though it also boasts a very important white wine region. In fact, maybe we could start right there. The region is called D.O. Rueda and it is located smack in the heart of Castilla y León (in the province of Valladolid). Up until the 1970s, Rueda's reputation rode heavily on a kind of sherry-style wine which travellers would pick up on their way to and from Madrid. Apparently they were not especially delicate vinos and with the passing of years they drifted far from the modern taste for lighter wine. That was the case until a few key wineries made the switch to less alcoholic whites based on the local grape called Verdejo. In the last few years, Sauvignon Blanc has responded with spectacular results too. Now Rueda has become Madrid's standard white wine, an incredible feat considering how young this region is. Probably the best news is that, so far, the fame hasn’t gone to its head, and the prices are still pretty friendly. Let’s hope it stays that way.
Getting down to the meaty reds, first mention goes to D.O. Ribera del Duero. A huge producer during the Middle Ages, as recently as 1970s this region had so little to hope for the grape growers themselves were actually ripping up thousands of acres of vines as if they were weeds. “No future!” they said. No future, indeed! Spain's most revered winery, the untouchable Vega Sicilia, was located in those parts, obviously good wine could be made there if the producers put their minds, hearts and money to it. And that’s just what happened. In little more than twenty years, Ribera has turned itself into one of the titans of the Spanish wine world. The reason is simple: its unquestionable quality. The culprit here is a grape called Tinto Fino, alias Tinta Fina, alias Tinto del País, alias Tinta del País. its all Tempranillo. It’s the grape responsible for the fruity young reds as well as the complex, alluring aged wine. The rise to stardom has also meant a very sharp increase in their price, unfortunately making many of these wines a special occasion order rather than a daily joy, but the young bottles are still relatively reasonable. More often than not, the quality and elegance of the crianzas and reservas justify the cost. Any “bottled” visit to Spain's new wine look requires a stop at this exceptional wine-producing land.
Another up-and-coming region is D.O. Toro. The word "Toro" means "bull" and it aptly describes the robust character of these reds of yore. The wine charged at you like a snorting beast bursting out onto the bullring! The word actually refers to a town by the same name in the province of Zamora. The river Duero softly drifts by and bathes the lands with just the right moisture for growing grapes. The fruit of choice? Tinta de Toro, alias, you guessed it, Tempranillo. Well, not exactly Tempranillo, say some, but close enough. The winemakers in the area have toned down the rugged nature of their wine, and what they have come up with is something extraordinary. Full-bodied and full of character, but not overwhelming.
Switching directions, we find another region with a longstanding tradition for reds, but of a very different kind: young and fruity ones made from the grape Mencía, a variety with characteristics similar to those of Cabernet Franc. The region is called D.O. Bierzo and its a fertile valley hidden away in the north-western reaches of Castilla y León. It is slowly but surely coming of age. Just a couple of years ago, no one would have guessed that, but now some of Spain's most renowned winemakers have moved in to take a stab. Mencías are intense and lively wines, mostly designed for early consumption. Whites made from Godello are also available.
Most wine regions in Castilla y León make some rosé, but D.O. Cigales is what comes to mind when one thinks of these very aromatic and fruity blushes. New more intense versions are especially exciting and a refreshing solution to warm weather meals. Cigales has also made a strong bet on the future of its reds, which appeal to a wider market. The most recent reports have been nothing less than encouraging.
There is also a handful of minor regions harbouring many “independent” wineries which have gained notoriety in the international market. Most notable of all are probably V.T. Castilla y León and V.T. Tierra de León. Similar names, separate regions.
Castilla y León is definitely wine country, there is no doubt. And though it may not have returned to centre stage until recently, one gets the feeling its heritage is as old as the hills.
Written by Brian Murdock, author of the book "Let's Open a Bottle".

Castilla y León
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