The Puzzle of Portuguese Wine
There probably aren't many European Union countries that otherwise-well-educated Americans believe are located next to Brazil, but to some, Portugal is just that obscure.
"My doctor told me he wanted to visit Portugal but didn't have the time to go to South America," said John Oliveira, president of Tri-Vin Wine, an importing company in Mount Vernon, N.Y., that specializes in Portuguese wines. Mr. Oliveria wasn't particularly surprised; he's been selling Portuguese wines in the U.S. for over 20 years—and it's still a challenge. "We still haven't achieved liftoff with Portuguese wines," he says. I've pondered the puzzle that is Portuguese wines for a while. Although it's the home of Port, the world's most famous fortified wine, Portugal is otherwise almost identity-less in the world. Its grapes, its star producers and its winemaking regions are as much of a mystery to most Americans as its geographic location on a map.
One reason may be Portugal's food. There aren't any globally famous Portuguese chefs as there are in, say, Spain (i.e., Ferran Adrià) and the country's chief culinary attraction, salted cod (bacalao), isn't exactly a dish to please a crowd. As the growing number of Italian, Spanish and even Greek restaurants in this country have shown, the popularity of a country's cuisine often precedes the popularity of its wines.
It's also a question of marketing. Countries with even shorter vinous pedigrees, like South Africa and Chile, have eclipsed Portugal in recognition and sales, in part because they've done a much better job of promoting themselves. They also have a greater number of importers working on their behalf: Individuals like Jorge Ordóñez, Andre Shearer and Eric Solomon have introduced high-quality wines from Spain and South Africa to the U.S.
And then there's the image problem. Drew Hendricks, wine director of Pappas Brothers Steakhouses in Houston and Dallas and a fan of Portuguese wines says, "When you say 'Spain' to someone, it evokes all kinds of images. When you say 'Portugal' to someone, it doesn't conjure up anything at all."
And yet there are some truly outstanding wines made in Portugal, and many are very well-priced. This is particularly true of the red table wines from the rugged Douro Valley in the northeastern part of the country, where Port is made. Some of the most famous Port houses now make some excellent table wines too.
For Port producers, the move to table-wine production was both a creative challenge and a commercial necessity. Winemakers wanted to see what else they could do with the region's grapes, of which there are well over 100, though the five that show up the most often include: Touriga Nacional, Tinta Roriz, Tinta Barroca, Touriga Franca and Tinta Cao. Meanwhile, Port sales have been falling for years. Between 2006 and 2009, exports of Port to this country dropped from 34,000 cases to just over 21,000, according to figures released by the Port and Douro Wines Institute of Portugal.
Winemakers leading this shift included names from famous Port firms like Niepoort's Dirk Niepoort and Quinta Vale Dona Maria's Cristiano van Zeller. The two men are part of the "Douro Boys," a group of likeminded group of winemakers who banded together about 10 years ago to produce high quality Douro wines. Other famous members of the "boys" (actually middle-aged men) include Jorge Roquette of Quinta do Crasto and Joao Ferreira of Quinta do Vallado, whose family owns the famous Ferreira Port.
Some promising young winemakers of Douro table wines have never been able to make Port at all, thanks to government's onerous "Law of the Third" regulation that requires all Port producers to keep three bottles in reserve for every one bottle of Port sold. As a result, said Joao Nicolau de Almeida of Ramos Pinto, and the great elder statesman of the Douro, "a young oenologist doesn't have the capital to make Port, so they now make table wine."
That makes the Douro a very different place than when Mr. Almeida arrived almost 40 years ago. "When I came in 1976 there were no young winemakers and now the region is full of them," Mr. Almeida said, speaking by phone.
To find an assortment of good Portuguese wines in the U.S., I headed to Newark, N.J., whose Ironbound district is called "Little Portugal" in recognition of the number of Portuguese who live there. Although their population is much smaller now than it was, say, 50 years ago, the Portuguese influence is still profound.
As a guide, I had Frank Paredes, whose family has owned a wine shop, Ferry Wines, there since 1973. Mr. Paredes pretty much grew up in the district and only left his family's store a few years ago to work for a wine importing company in New York. Although he's not even 40 years old, Mr. Paredes is regarded as something of a cultural authority and a sort of mayor in the Ironbound neighborhood.
But I was disappointed that at every wine shop I tried, I was unable to find Portugal's most famous wine, Barca Velha. The wine was created in 1953 and is sometimes referred to as "Portugal's Grange," a comparison to the famous Australian bottling, which was launched around the same time. Barca Velha is not quite as expensive as Grange—running about $300—but it seems to be even harder to find.
Over lunch with Mr. Pardes at Marisqueria, a seafood restaurant in the heart of the Ironbound, I expressed my frustration at failing to find a bottle of Barca Velha. I was surprised by his reply. "It's overrated," Mr. Paredes said. "No Portuguese wine is worth that much money." This wasn't a sentiment I could ever imagine an Australian—and certainly not a Frenchman—expressing about his country's most famous wine. Was it a matter of low self-esteem, or were the Portuguese just more realistic about the value of their wines in the world?
I collected a couple dozen or so bottles in the Newark wine shops we visited, as well as in shops in New York, where the selection was smaller. Most were from the 2007 and 2008 vintages. The former was a great year, the latter less so; the 2008 wines are generally a bit lighter and less intense. My selections ranged in price from $6 to $38, though most were between $14 and $17. Even top names, like Quinta do Crasto, were quite affordable.
Once my wines were assembled, I invited a couple of friends, one a talented cook, for the tasting. I made Portuguese chicken from a website devoted to Portuguese food. (Note to "Portuguese Tony": Your recipe needs salt.) The wines ranged from light and bright with high acidity to deep and brooding with layers of flavors that took time to unfold.
There was a fair amount of astringency in all of the wines. Touriga Nacional, the dominant grape of the Douro, can be quite astringent in its youth. I decanted the most formidable and found after even just an hour's aeration they were much more approachable.
All in all, I found about 10 wines I'd be happy to drink again. In the meantime, my friend Barry, the cook, kept suggesting alternative dishes. "This would go well with a really big piece of meat," he said of the rich and concentrated 2007 Duas Quintas Riserva ($33) and the 2005 Quinta Vale d. Maria ($38). "This would actually go well with a piece of fish," he said of the cherry-inflected 2007 Twisted by Dirk Niepoort ($16) and the lively but simple 2008 Palestra ($6).
While the contents of the bottles ranged widely, there were some consistencies, at least on the outside: almost every one listed the names of the varietals and one even added a further clarifying note, "This wine is made with Portuguese grapes." Every label also had a picture of a vineyard, the Douro producers' seal of guarantee. I was impressed by the thoroughness and attention to detail, though I'd suggest adding a much larger map—perhaps one that illustrated Portugal's place in the world.
