Despite having drunk my last bottle of Envínate’s Benje Blanco 2016 from Tenerife several years ago, I can still taste it today. It was so saline and powerful, with angular structure, yet almost ghostlike in its weight. Persistent yet effortlessly so. It haunted me. I could not stop thinking about it.
Shortly after, I discovered the Vidonia cuvée by Suertes del Marqués — also from Tenerife — and marvelled at how a white wine from the Canary Islands could compare in precision and minerality to a white wine from the Côte d’Or. I had to find out more.
On opening Wine Grapes, the most important reference that exists on grape varieties, I realised that the Listán Blanco variety behind these wines was indeed the same Palomino responsible for two wines I had previously become smitten by. This duo was from the Swartland: the Sadie Family Wines Skerpioen cuvée (a 50/50 blend with Chenin), and the A.A. Badenhorst Sout van die Aarde, both of which hail from Kobus Brand’s Bottelfontein farm on the west coast of South Africa. I finally made it to the vineyard in October 2022 (see photos below). It is a vineyard with a wild soul, and I can say with hand on heart that it is one of the most special places I have ever been to. I gladly left a little part of my spirit there.
Eben Sadie & the 75-year-old Palomino vines of Skerpioen
None of these wines were fortified. This was not sherry. Rather, they were almost more akin to Savagnin — salty and moreish, but without as much acidity, hence gentler in their approach.
Soon added to the list of wines made in this vein from Palomino were the gamechanging Jerez bottles by Muchada-Léclapart and Cota 45, the old vine Palomino/Terret Gris blend ‘Les Traverses’ made by Domaine de Courbissac in the Languedoc, the delicious cuvées of Laura Lorenzo, of Daterra Viticultores in Spain’s Ribeira Sacra, and the Blackwater ‘Pleasure Garden’ from South Africa’s Robertson.
I was perturbed as to why not more love was being shown for Palomino as an unfortified wine. While it is famous worldwide in its sherry guise, at the time, I could count less than 20 unfortified varietal expressions.
Often dubbed ‘neutral,’ I find this term does Palomino an injustice, as it can be misinterpreted. Neutral does not mean boring. Palomino might have very little overt ‘fruit’ flavour, but it does have a strong capacity to give a sense of terroir, namely through minerality, salinity and texture. It may be more subtle, but there is infinite nuance to be found within these subtleties. It is the quiet, shy person you can’t quite read but who mesmerises you.
Towards the end of 2018, I had decided I wanted to pursue the opportunity to harvest and make wine, as an intern. Albeit with frequent trips to wine regions and winemakers, I had predominantly been working at a desk for five years, and craved a deeper vineyard and cellar experience to expand my knowledge. I approached Abe Schoener, a huge inspiration of mine who I had met the year before at Sager + Wilde, who to my surprise and joy agreed to take me on for the 2019 vintage.
Meanwhile, my quest for more old vine Palomino continued in parallel. I met the wonderful Megan Cline at a trade tasting in Sonoma, where I tasted her family’s ‘Farmhouse’ white wine. Lo and behold, I discovered that it contains old vine Palomino. To say I was enthused would be an understatement. I told Abe about this, and awkwardly asked if there was a chance for me to make a microcuvée while working with him if I was able to get some fruit (I realised this was a huge ask for an intern who had never made wine before). He graciously and kindly agreed, and I plucked up the courage to ask Megan if I could buy some fruit to make a Palomino cuvée dedicated to their vineyard. She and the wonderful Cline team gave me the honour of buying half a ton of grapes.
Megan Cline and the Bridgehead Palomino vines
The Vineyard
The vineyard in question is the historic Bridgehead Vineyard, in Contra Costa, California, owned and farmed organically by Cline Cellars. The vineyard is predominantly planted to Zinfandel and Mataro (Mourvèdre) — the latter of which used to be a Ridge cuvée — and there is also a small amount of Palomino and Muscat found here. All the vines are own-rooted massal selection. The Palomino vines are believed to have been planted in 1935, although it is possible that they are even older. The vines are incredibly healthy and bear an astonishing amount of fruit, and the climate and health of the vineyard means it only needs to be sprayed with sulphur once a year. My wine is the only Palomino from the vineyard to have been made solo.
The once-rural region of Contra Costa has, in recent decades, become a hotspot for developers. With the value of land having exploded due to the area’s proximity to San Francisco (on a good day, just an hour’s commute), it is down to a small number of incredibly dedicated growers, such as the Cline family, that these vines remain in the ground today. Bridgehead is now nestled between new builds, a road, and an old trainline. When emailing Megan and Charlie Tsegeletos (the now-retired winemaker of Cline) about the vineyard, Charlie said,
I hope you cherish that old Palomino as much as we do. It was planted back in 1935 and it’s watched a lot of trains go by. You’ll see what I’m talking about when you see the vineyard!
It’s true: the vines sit quietly watching train after train trundle by, like elderly people sitting on a park bench in the afternoon sun as buses honk, kids scream, and the world continues its busy pace around them.
In early August 2019, Abe and I drove up to the sands of Contra Costa to visit the vineyard with Megan, Charlie and Alan Lucchesi, the Cline viticulturist (you can read more about the inimitable Alan Lucchesi and the Contra Costa region via my article, Alan’s Alicante, which came second in Jancis Robinson’s 2021 wine writing competition).
A few days later, on 13th August, we drove back to pick the vineyard with Megan and friends.
The Making
We drove the fruit down to the winery in which Abe and I made the inaugural LA River Wine Co wines. Based loosely on how Envínate originally made their Benje Blanco cuvée, I chose the following method:
I foot stomped 9/10th of the grapes, after which we pressed them in a small basket press, and moved the juice via tiny buckets (we had no pump, and actually never needed one throughout the whole vintage) to an old Kongsgaard barrel (which previously housed The Judge 2015, and the Chardonnay 2017), where it fermented naturally.
The remaining 1/10th of the grapes were destemmed by hand and moved to a glass demijohn, where they were immersed in juice to ferment. The idea of this portion was to add a textural component, and I think this has aided in giving the wine its extra-salty backbone. After eight weeks on the skins, it was moved into the barrel.
At this moment, I realised I still had significant headspace in the barrel, which I wanted to avoid in order to encourage a reductive environment as opposed to an oxidative one (I also didn’t want flor to develop. I love flor aged wines, but I wanted to see this vineyard in its naked state as wine). So, I purchased glass marbles to raise the fill level. In the end, I didn’t have enough marbles to bring the level quite to the top, but they had helped significantly, and I couldn’t afford more marbles, so I simply crossed my fingers. I returned to London in early October.
In February 2020, one month before the world shut down due to Covid-19, I returned to California to prune with Abe and Rajat Parr. With extreme nerves, I arrived at the cellar to taste the wine. I was both thrilled and astonished — it was in a perfect reductive state, having not oxidised at all. It was almost as pale as water. This taught me that healthy, heavy lees can be an incredible tool in a winemaker’s toolkit — I think they must simply have absorbed any oxygen.
Just a few weeks later, of course we all know what happened: the world went into lockdown, and I was stuck in London. Heroically, Abe was able to gather a team at lightspeed to bottle The Alley and several of the LA River Wine Co wines.
Just 202 bottles were produced. I hope you enjoy it, and that it makes you as intrigued about this ancient Spanish variety as I am.
All bottles have now been pre-allocated. If you would like to try a bottle, some will soon be on the wine list at Noble Rot Lamb’s Conduit Street, Noble Rot Soho, Sager + Wilde and The Mulwray. Some will also be available to purchase at Shrine to the Vine.
Foot stomping
The macerated portion (I love how they look like olives, or brussels sprouts!)
Analysis
pH: 3.54
Titratable Acidity (g/L): 4.9
Free SO2 (ppm): 4
Total SO2 (ppm): 62 - side note, Abe and I estimate that we added 45ppm, so this suggests that around 17ppm was formed naturally during fermentation
Alcohol: 12%
Volatile Acidity (g/L): 0.167
The meaning behind the name is threefold:
⁃ ‘Alley’ is the Middle English term for a playing marble — who knew?!
⁃ It is an homage to the shape of the vineyard, which is very much like an alleyway
⁃ Finally, it refers to the notion of a passage; my own journey in wine.
To Megan Cline & Abe Schoener — I still can’t believe it. Thanks to you, this little dream of mine became a reality. My heart is full, and I am beyond grateful to you both for believing in me and helping me. Thank you.
Abe, Raj & Palomino
The Future
Finally, I can’t write this without mentioning the future for Palomino. When working with Abe at LA River Wine Co, we discovered not one but two other Palomino vineyards — one in Cucamonga, home to the centenarian vines of Galleano Winery, and another in Fresno. We would go on to make Palomino from both vineyards.
Today, Abe continues to make incredible Palomino from Cucamonga, as does Raj under his Scythian Wine Co label (he has also planted some Palomino in his own vineyard, at Phelan Farm). Scar of the Sea, Harvey Walsh Wines and Herrmann York Wines have also joined them in making wine from the Cucamonga plot, and it truly feels like an old vine Palomino Revolution is taking place. Meanwhile, in Tenerife, Borja Pérez of Artífice is also achieving magic. In South Africa, I recently discovered the delightful pH wines and the Swartberg Wingerde wines. Eben Sadie has also planted more Palomino — both at his home farm, in the Twiswind plot — and on the West Coast just a stone’s throw from the Skerpioen vineyard.
Albeit on a small scale, I’m thrilled to see the variety gaining a much-deserved reputation at long last. I can’t wait to see what the future holds for it, and look forward to seeing more people join its global fan club. Viva Palomino!