Here is a mystery I am unable to unravel. Why, when we turn to Spain, do we automatically think of Rioja? Why do we apparently drink more from there than from all the other Spanish regions put together, when it's among these that the excitement lies? Why are we stuck in a groove - discomfited by see-sawing quality and pretty high prices? In a global market brimming with diversity, it's an odd case of regional myopia - a bit like saying the only French cheese you'll eat is Brie.
Recently I enjoyed reading The New Spain, by the Spanish wine specialist John Radford which demonstrates just how vibrant a fistful of lesser known regions have become. The main message is that Spain is in the midst of a wine revolution. No longer is it mainly a source of traditional, unchanging (and, I'd add, uneven) wines. Over the past decade, there has been an explosion of wine styles and a dramatic rise in quality. "After centuries of stasis, the vineros have the scent of innovation in their nostrils," Radford writes, "and they like the aroma. Even in the most obscure regions, at least one maverick is trying out a different type of fermentation, a new yeast strain or a forgotten grape variety".
Recently, three of these mavericks rode into town. Ricardo Sanz from Rueda, Antonio Burdio from Calatayud and Ricardo Guelbenzu from Navarra were guests of honour at a wine dinner hosted by Searsons at Dish in Temple Bar. Having put a major effort into Spain these past few years, the Monkstown merchants were keen to show their Spanish treasures off to a mass gathering of customers.
These were not bottles to sample dribble by dribble, in reverential silence. They were well-made wines at reasonable prices to knock back and enjoy. Wines with distinctive flavours - refreshingly different from most of their New World rivals, at a comparable cost. Ricardo Sanz, a young winemaker with six generations of family expertise to draw on, presented the latest vintage of his brilliantly successful Con Class Especial (see below), a blend of Verdejo and Viura with a dash of Sauvignon. It typifies the new trend in Rueda, south of the Duero river - an area which has moved from sherry-style wines to shimmeringly fresh whites.
Antonio Burdio, working with what John Radford rates as the best co-op in Calatayud, a small region in the province of Aragon, showed how the Garnacha grape can produce two quite different wines: one peppery and full of punch, to be drunk young; the other, from the concentrated grapes of old vines (see below), a richer offering, capable of lasting a few years. Both are extraordinary bargains.
Now jump north-east to Navarra and Ricardo Guelbenzu who, with his brothers and sisters - three lawyers, three doctors, an archaeologist and a painter - makes up the dauntingly clever current generation of an old wine family. Their approach is different again. "They place their company in the European winemaking tradition," explained Charles Searson, "but I'd go further. I think they're complete francophiles."
This may be no great surprise, in a region geographically close to France; one that has been experimenting with all sorts of grape varieties, including Bordeaux's mainstays Cabernet and Merlot. But this Ricardo Guelbenzo admits he is obsessed with balance and subtlety, in the way that serious French winemakers tend to be. He hates competitions, because they promote the production of in-your-face blockbusters - wines which win the judges over in a single mouthful, but which you might not stomach by the glass. I couldn't agree more. His Tinto (see Bottle of the Week) and the splendid Cabernet-based Guelbenzu Evo are wines that cast a gradual but powerful spell.
Of all the emerging Spanish regions, Navarra is the one that has made the biggest impact so far on our drinking habits, with good bodegas like Ochoa, Chivite and Principe de Viana (under both that label and Agramont) winning legions of Irish fans. But keep your eyes peeled and you'll notice wines from many other parts of Spain creeping on to Irish shelves.
Not too far from Calatayud in Aragon, there's Somontano, tucked into the Pyrenees - a place where sleepy co-ops have been transformed into dynamic companies. Here, go-ahead outfits like Enate and CoViSa (with the Vinas del Vero label) are producing wonderful (and occasionally weird) wines from both Spanish and French grapes - everything from Gewurztraminer and Pinot Noir to Chenin Blanc.
In the north-east, Priorato and Tarragona - a place once known only for Poor Man's Port - are worth watching. In Galicia in the north-west, Rias Baixas seems poised to hit the jackpot with Albarino, Spain's most stylish white. The sunny central region of La Mancha is giving us plenty of reliable supermarket reds at knockdown prices. And, at the other extreme, Ribero del Duero is coming up with more wines that justify the lofty reputation carved out by Vega Sicilia - without requiring quite such a drastic downpayment of cash.
There's enough variety in this new Spain to keep us drinking happily for yonks. And we definitely haven't seen the half of it.
The New Spain - a Complete Guide to Contemporary Spanish Wine by John Radford (Mitchell Beazley, £25 in the UK).
White
Con Class Especial, Rueda, 1998 (Searsons Monkstown, Kellys Clontarf, Gibneys Malahide, Pettitts in the south-east, Vineyard Galway, usually about £5.95). I've praised this well-priced wine so often it's embarrassing . . . but I must tell you this new vintage is better than ever - flowery and ultra-fresh.
Martin Codax Albarino, Rias Baixas, 1996/7 (selected SuperValus/Centras, Karwigs Wine Warehouse Carrigaline, usually £8.99). If you haven't yet tried Albarino, a late 1990s cult wine, start here. Tingling lemon and pineapple flavours round out nicely - and it's less expensive than most.
Red
Coto del Varal Tempranillo, La Mancha, 1997 (Tesco, £4.99). From the same bodega as Tesco/ Quinnsworth's bestseller Fuente del Ritmo, in Spain's centre, another great bargain. Light, juicy and moreish, especially with food.
Marques de Aragon Old Vine Garnacha, Calatayud, 1997 (Searsons Monkstown, DeVine Wine Shop Castleknock, Grapes of Mirth Rathmines, Pettitts in the south-east, usually about £5.50). There's lovely richness here - presumably because of the smaller, more concentrated grapes of older vines. Sweet, ripe fruit and a long, savoury finish.
Carchelo Tinto, Jumilla, 1997 (Searsons Monkstown, Geraghtys Carlow, Vineyard Galway, Pettitts in the south-east, usually about £5.95). New-wave bodegas like the one responsible for this prove that the little region of Jumilla, inland from Alicante, can also turn out much better things than bulk wine. Monastrell and a bit of Merlot make for a soft and flavoursome mouthful.
Guelbenzu Tinto, Bodegas Guelbenzu, Navarra, 1996 (Searsons Monkstown, Grapes of Mirth Rathmines, DeVine Wine Shop Castleknock, Vineyard Galway, usually about £7.95). This one wins for sheer style at a very decent price. See Bottle of the Week.
De Muller Merlot, Tarragona, 1996 (selected SuperValus/Centras, Karwigs Wine Warehouse Carrigaline, McCabes Merrion, Grapes of Mirth Rathmines, about £8.50). I haven't tasted many Spanish Merlots, but this beautifully round, spicy Catalonian makes me thirst for more. Now a house wine in Ballymaloe - and no wonder.
Balbas Crianza, Ribero del Duero, 1995 (Wine Vault Waterford/David Dennison Fine Wines, McCabes Merrion, Grapes of Mirth Rathmines, Geraghtys Carlow, £11-12) From an old firm revamped in the late 1980s, 100 per cent Tempranillo makes for a tasty, smooth-textured red with a savoury bite in its lingering finish.