Falling in love with Ribera del Duero (again)

About fifteen years ago, a good mate of mine came into a stash of iconic wine. It was an odd situation, where he was given the run of a top-end heavy cellar as thanks for houseminding a trophy home on Sydney’s lower north shore. As you do. Naturally, he shared the wealth, which meant every time I popped around, we would wander into the custom-designed cellar and open something epic – old Chateau Montrose, Cheval Blanc, and most notably a few bottles of the 2005 release of Vega Sicilia Único Reserva Especial.

The last one cut differently.

I’d read about Vega Sicilia’s multi-vintage Ribera del Duero unicorn, but had little concept of just how much I’d be entranced by a true Spanish unicorn. I can still taste that wine and for years after, the wines of Vega Sicilia have occupied that little patch of space in my nerd brain that thinks of each country’s icon wines (fun fact – I’m such a wine nerd that I send myself to sleep trying to think of grapes that start with every letter of the alphabet. Q is impossible).

Yet more recently, I think I’ve slipped out of the Sicilia reverential universe. Call it exposure, call it a few alcoholic disappointments, but my Tempranillo benchmark shifted from those Ribera del Duero expressions and into the welcoming bosom of Rioja.

So it was that, when I found myself in Ribera del Duero after the Barcelona Wine Week (and the day after my Rueda expedition), I wasn’t quite sure where my preferences would land. As you can imagine, at a Spanish wine fair, I’d spent most of the week ingesting Tempranillo, and what felt like a shedload of Rioja, so I felt conditioned. But holy moley did I find myself back in love with Ribera del Duero real fast…

Fascinatingly, this is one of the few big European red wine regions that is still growing. During a day or so flip-flopping across the region, new plantings were easily spotted all over the place. It’s an interesting area geographically, too, punctuated by extremes. Like Rueda, it’s highly continental, with big diurnal temps framed by cold, wet winters and hellish hot, dry summers. The altitude (720-1000m+ asl) and gravelly, rocky, stark soils only amping up the harshness. Indeed, even after weeks of rain, the vineyards look bleak (as the photo above in a Pradorey vineyard shows). Also, unlike the adjoining white wine region, the vineyards here lie largely alongside the Duero river, which means they somehow feel like they have a bit of x-factor, thanks, I think, to a bit of slope dramatics. There is a ‘golden mile’ (actually 15km) of limestone and clay hillside vineyards that could almost be Burgundian (if you ignore the fact that it looks nothing bloody like eastern France), where you’ll find Vega Sicilia, Pingus and other icon producers.

Unlike Rioja, the red wines here are almost all 100% Tempranillo, with the grape (known locally as Tinta del Pais, Tinto Fino, Tinto Fina, and more) accounting for 98% of plantings. There’s hatfuls of Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and the like, but compared to Rioja, where Garnacha, Manzuela etc are pretty typical parts of the blend, it’s old mate Temp as the typical stand-alone grape king.

The other defining characteristic of the Ribera del Duero red wines is concentration. These are typically deep, ripe and occasionally oaky things that start red-fruited but can get black and alcoholic pretty easily.

Actually, that last part is really important when framing my reviews of the wines below. 15% alcohol mega reds look an awful lot fresher when it’s 5 °C outside (feels like -1 °C) and 14 degree inside a cellar. I kept noticing an almost impossible sense of freshness that ripe red wines shouldn’t have, and I found myself pondering whether I would see them the same way now, back here in Sydney, where it’s 26 °C at 9 pm, versus tasting them in freezing-cold Spain mid-winter. I maintain that there is unexpected vitality in many Ribera del Duero reds, but context matters.

Hot damn, did I really enjoy so many of these reds! I can see why the typecast, ripeness-loving American critics, in particular, fall over themselves to hand out big scores. I’ve even included scores here, just to remember the wines I especially liked.

Finally, I present this lineup with an apology that most of these wines are barely available outside Spain, let alone in Australia. You just need to go yourself (ideally not in early Feb unless you’re skiing after).

Let’s dive in:

Cantovera 9 Meses 2023

100% Tempranillo, and as the name suggests, this spent nine months in 50/50 American and French barrels. I really see the American oak here – a grainy cocoa powder framed wine, smooth and round, medium to full bodied, and a bit reliant on the oak tannins for depth. That plushness of palate is pretty nice though. A welcome entree. 17.7/20, 92/100

Cantovera Suum 2023

The rep on the Cantovera stand had spent a few years in Australia, which seemed to be a common thread in this region – everyone wants to come downunder. Anyway, this is Tinto Pais (did I mention everyone has a different name for Tempranillo in Spain) and Cabernet Sauvignon (20%), matured for 12 months in French oak. After the plushness and Amex oak of the 9 Meses, this felt rather finessed – still black fruit impact but quite medium bodied and savoury fresh. Fine tannins too. Nice wine, and a bit polish and mediumness in a room full of bold wines. I liked the class here. 18/20, 93/100.

Valduero Criado 2025

Valduero is one of the OG producers in the Ribera del Duero, with the estate dating back to the mid-1980s. We’re in the absolute blue chip end of the region here, with a mega winery built into the hillside to what is pitched as ‘the most exclusive wine club in the world’ where members and a selection of commit to a 225 barrique of wine (which is then bottled in any format the member wants). There’s a roll call of honorary celeb members in this club (La Tenada) too, including Ronaldo, Mark Knopfler, Placido Domingo and a squad of Spanish singers, artists, Nobel Prize winners and chefs. Interestingly, there is only one wine that Valduero makes every year – this Criado white. Made from Albillo Mayor, the almost forgotten local white grape (and likely a DNA parent of Tempranillo). Anyway, for all that grandiosity, this is a pretty simple fruit salad white wine with a bit of generous apricot and tropical pineapple in a Verdelho- or even a Fernão Pires-type mode. Ripe, relatively low acid, but still frisky enough, it’s a surprisingly simple, fun wine. 17.5/20, 91/100.

Valduero Una Cepa 2020

100% Tinto Fino, the claim to fame here is ‘1 vine, 1 bottle’ in a nod to the meagre 2t/ha (0.8t/acre) yields. Matured for 18 months in a smorgasbord of French, American oak (and more). What’s fascinating is how youthful this looks – it’s a purple, primal Temp, a fascinating, fruit-forward thing that somehow manages to be juicy and powerful all at once. You could have told me this was a 2023 and I would be nodding. Wow. In context, €36 is quite fair. 18.5/20, 94/100.

Valduero 6 Años 2016

Spends three years in oak, three years in bottle before release, with French, American, Romanian and Hungarian wood all in use. This red feels a bit extra everything too – still packs in all of the dark fruit and Black Forest cake width, but with something hard to define that moves from truffley, to black peppery, to cocoa dusty, to something darker and more mongrel. The tannins, ho boy, the tannins. It’s a multi-shaded experience, with multiple tannin grades and blackness. The class and expanse here is something exceptional. 19/20, 96/100.

Maeste Rosé Clarete 2025

It’s not all celeb-studded wine clubs here – Maeste is the work of Miguel Peña, making wines from a selection of old, half-abandoned microplots from across Ribera del Duero, crafted in an old 11th-century building. They’re proper modern and lively wines too, just like this Clarete (which is actually an ancient Spanish style of red and white grapes blended together). 80/20 Temp and Albillo, this sits in that nebulous, half-light, red, half fuller ‘serious’ rosé sort of mode (though leaning more towards rosé based on colour and juiciness). What a lovely, vibrant thing it is – with this strawberry and raspberry gummy brightness and then a crisp, rather refreshing palate behind it. I like this rather serious pink wine. 17.7/20, 92/100.

Maeste Alma del Vivar 2024

Speaking of joy, plenty in this roble style of lightly oaked Tempranillo. Matured for six months in older Spanish, American and French wood, it’s a polished, purple wine with great colour and great fruit. A pretty wine, and a spotless one, maybe a little light on the intensity, but a joyous medium-bodied style. 18/20, 93/100

Maeste Alma del Moral 2023

This is Miguel Peña’s fancier wine, crafted from old vine Tempranillo with a little Temp and spends 12 months in barre, with some new wood. Classy and another quite vibrant purple wine. Only medium-bodied, it’s another pretty wine, trading in more purple fruit joy and fine tannins. Maybe not the biggest Temp here, but lively and has a real mid palate energy. V. drinkable. 18.5/20, 94/100.

Bodegas Felix Callejo Parajes 2022

Ah, the find of my Ribera del Duero adventure. In a room full of oaky, ripe powerhouses, the Callejo wines felt like a welcome terroir expedition. From a selection of plots between 820-920m with soils that vary between clay to sand and limestone, with a full pyramid of regional wines right through to Grand Cru plots. Organic grapegrowing, wild ferments, big oak, wines finished off in cement and less new wood. This red is a field blend of Tinta Fina, Garnacha and Albillo, matured in foudre (and concrete vats). It’s a soulful wine, with pan juices, black earth, something truffley and dark, but still red and blackberry-fruited, the mode more medium-bodied, detailed and different. There’s an interesting forest berry Chianti-like character here too. Wine of soul, if more drinker than high flyer. 17.7/20, 92/100.

Bodegas Felix Callejo Majuelos 2022

This is Tinto Fino co-fermented with a little Garnacha. A blend of fruit from several plots, and notably, the sites here are in the northern end of Sotillo at 900m asl. Low-temperature ferments, maturation largely in big oak for 1.5 years. Such a lucid wine – it feels alive, complex, interesting. Black and inky, with black earth and iron, but so delicate and powdery. Medium-bodied but deep enough. This feels like a little Côte Rôtie in Tempranillo form. Superb. 18.7/20, 95/100.

Bodegas Felix Callejo Félix Callejo 2021

A special bottling from a patch of hard limestone soils in the highest part of Sotillo. Tiny production. Spends 18 months in oak. Limestone soils. A more modern and powerful wine in context after the Majuelos, but a grandiose wine too. A kaleidoscopic joy of pan juices, dried herbs, licorice and black/blue fruits. Feels like a Grand Cru wine. Deep and black, earthen, richly textured, with such powdery tannins. Profoundly good. 19/20, 96/100.

Pradorey Élite 2022

Despite the Ribera del Duero DO officially existing for only a few decades, there’s a very storied wine tradition here that dates back thousands of years lying beneath the surface. There’s a surprising number of well-appointed wineries here, too. Pradorey, for example, felt like it could be a contemporary Bordeaux winery, complete with an impressive lineup of amphorae (pictured further up). It comes with a history lesson too, as Queen Isabella (Queen of Castile) owned it in the 1500s. I tasted a broad lineup of Tempranillo in all the shades at Pradorey, from light and simple to some heavy-duty Reserva. Hefty oak and alcohol were a stumbling point occasionally, but this Élite was a beacon of flavour – I liked it so much I took a bottle home. The grapes here come off a 30yo plot with a famously low-yielding clone that is now almost obsolete. Ferment is in amphorae, with maturation in old oak. There’s something grand here with this tarry licorice and black gummy bear character that feels rather limitless. Such blackness. The warmth is just a little distracting (it tops 15%) but the overall feel is interesting different with plenty more to come. 18.5/20, 94/100+.

Bodegas Leda Más de Leda 2022

The glorious outlier. Leda is a project winery with a uniqure multi DO focus, sourcing Tempranillo grapes from old vines in Ribera del Duero, Toro and Cigales. No one does this multi-regional thing here, no doubt because the wines need to be labelled as Tierra de Castilla y León, which is basically profile-less. Heck Cigales is better known for serious rosé than Tempranillo. Oh yes, and there are at least four different synonyms for Tempranillo. But the pursuit of old vines and sublime parcels is worthy, and this very niche trio of red wines was rather convincing. This Más de Leda 2022 is the kickoff point wine here, and it sets a pretty high bar. Mainly sourced from the sandy soils of Toro (a region that makes the blackest Tempranillo wines in Spain), along with Cigales and a little Ribera del Duero, it spends 16 months in barrel. There’s a strong, bitter, deep feel to this, a mid-palate drive of black fruit and opulence. More about volume than structure, but very impressive. 18/20, 93/100.

Bodegas Leda Viñas Viejas 2020

This is the money-shot wine for me. There was a 2004 version alongside it, but I much preferred this younger wine. Crafted from 70-100-year-old vines that yield just 0.8-1/ta, with the 50/50 Ribera del Duero and Toro fruit. Matured for 22 months in French, American and Spanish oak (from the Pyrenees). It’s another luscious and very potent black-fruited thing, but by comparison, this feels incredibly youthful – six years of ageing is nothing. Yes, it’s a little oak-shaped, but I find this to be a very impressive, multi-layered ride, with all sorts of chocolate, baked plums, and a sense of finesse to the tannins. I am still so impressed by how this retains freshness on the finish. I admire this wine so much. 18.7/20, 95/100.

Bodegas Leda Guarda de Leda 2019

Produced only twice, it’s effectively a barrel selection from the Viñas Viejas, then aged for another year in oak. It’s clearly a vintage thing, but this had all the opulence and impact, though also the 15.5% alcohol, with a mode that feels thicker and more drying – I can see the extra everything here, and it has ‘going to score big’ written all over it, but I prefer the more even Viñas Viejas. 18.5/20, 94/100.

(I travelled to Spain courtesy of ICEX, the Spanish Institute for Foreign Trade).