Basque wine Txakoli flirts with fame

Basque wine Txakoli flirts with fame

Jon Bonné
Sunday, August 16, 2009


If wines walked the red carpet, the Basque wine known as Txakoli would no longer be a blushing ingenue. It's now a polished starlet, juggling paparazzi without batting an eyelash.

Just a few years ago, Txakoli (CHAC-o-lee) was an obscure curiosity. A straightforward wine, typically white and slightly fizzy, it was served in low tumblers, often poured from a great height. And it felt like the perfect fit for its native foods, often in tapas-like venues that looked not merely to Spain but to the north - Bilbao and San Sebastian.
And so Txakoli transcended its simple authenticity. But if New Spain's success has, to an extent, been hinged on wines for the global palate, Txakoli remains a holdout. Its down-home appeal - plus the bubbles - make up the core of its fashionability. Yet it is not to be dismissed as a casual drink.
"It's slowly entering into the language of the wine intelligentsia," says Andre Tamers, owner of De Maison Selections. With eight specimens in his portfolio, Tamers may be the Ari Emanuel of Txakoli.
There's no sign the crush is fading. If anything, it's hard to find enough to go around; Tamers imports about 5,000 cases annually. Txakoli is typically made by small growers. Little leaves the country, and the pressing problem here is that, as Luis Moya, owner of importer Vinos Unico puts it, "There's no way of mass-producing the wine."
It's worth catching up with Txakoli at this particular moment in its fame. Quality hasn't slipped, but it is now a sought-after young thing. Its price is rising. What had been a $16 bottle is now more likely $22. At those prices, Txakoli becomes more difficult to justify as a gulpable wine destined for a tumbler. The prospect of stemware lurks.
Hence why a glass of Txakoli might be harder to find. Though it's just right for dishes like calamares and pimientos de padron a la plancha at Contigo in Noe Valley, owner Brett Emerson has been hunting for an affordable one. At $52 a bottle, the 2008 Talai Berri might push the definition of an easy first-act wine.
You won't even find one by the glass right now at Piperade, Gerald Hirigoyen's venue for his native Basque cuisine. The Txomin Etxaniz, one of the first Txakolis in the United States, is available at $48 a bottle, and there's a surge of Basque pride at seeing Txakoli on white tablecloths. But when I ask about it, he sighs.
"When you start paying $50 for a bottle of Txakolina," he says, "if the wine is really worth that much, I don't know."
It is impressive how nuanced the selection of Txakoli has become. The region has three subzones - the most recent, Arabako, established in just 2002. Each offers its own characteristics. The sandy soils of the coastal Getariako region, centered on the town of Getaria on the Atlantic coast, can yield a fresher, frothier effort than the more clay-weighted soils of the inland Alava province, from whence the Arabako wines hail.
It is now more common to find Txakoli in different colors. The Hondarribi Zuri (white) grape still reigns, but the rarer Hondarribi Beltza (red) is making inroads, primarily as irresistible rosé. Other grapes, including Riesling, are making brief appearances.
But more changes may be afoot. Many growers are finally acquiring more land to plant, which could quickly mean more Txakoli to drink.
There is even talk, according to Tamers, of a broader Txakoli denomination that would allow blending of the subregions' grapes, a move that could usher in a simpler $10 Txakoli to revive its bartop cred.
Can terroir-driven Txakoli survive while a junior sibling competes with Vinho Verde?
"I think they can both work together as long as we're talking intelligently about the wines," Tamers says. "Because if not, it's Australia all over again."
That's always the trick with fame. Can you reach out without abandoning your base? So far Txakoli has finessed the limo circuit. Let's hope it stays that way.
Origin information: San Francisco Chronicle