The Douro has its day
It is home to the world’s oldest regulated wine region and 250 native grape varieties but it’s taken Portugal a long time to become the new Big Thing,
SO, THERE I was in 10 Greek Street, as fine a watering hole as you’ll find in London’s Soho, much loved by those in the know. It’s tiny – barely a couple of dozen covers – and always packed with cool kids tucking into exquisite sharing plates and cannily sourced, fairly priced wines. It’s the perfect spot if – like me – you never know what you want to eat or drink. Just look helplessly at the waitress or waiter and instantly they’ll suggest some morsel or drop that turns out to be exactly what you craved, even though you didn’t know it. The other day, sensing a ditherer in their midst, the waitress simply wandered off and returned with a large glass of 2023 Arinto from Bucelas produced by Quinta da Romeira. A large glass of what, from where?
Oh, come on, Arinto is a white grape and Bucelas is a small wine region in Portugal, just north of Lisbon. Surely you knew that? Only joshing. Both grape and region are more than a little obscure and there’s no earthly reason why you should have heard of either. I, however, am meant to know such things and, although I was vaguely aware of Bucelas, I’m embarrassed to confess that I’d never heard of (nor knowingly tasted) Arinto. More fool me, for the wine was bang on, being engagingly soft, supple, slightly creamy and full of fresh lemons and green apples. I had a second glass just to make sure. Yep, I was sure.
Portugal has suddenly become the new Big Thing. Well, it ain’t exactly new but it’s still largely undiscovered by wine lovers, and on those infrequent occasions when Portugal and its vino does come to mind, one invariably thinks of port, madeira and, with a wry grin, Mateus rosé: that infamous staple of 1970s wine bars and – as a lamp stand – student bedsits.
It’s a rare restaurant of quality that doesn’t stock several Portuguese wines these days (10 Greek Street currently showcases six on its list) and the wine trade seems to be talking of little else. The annual Wines of Portugal tasting in London was as crowded and as noisy as any tasting I’ve been to, with supermarket buyers, sommeliers, restaurateurs and journos thirstily thronging the tables. The tasting booklet ran to an impressive 80 pages.
Portugal has more than 250 native grape varieties – few of which are grown anywhere else – scattered across 14 major wine regions, including the first in the world to be demarcated and regulated: the Douro Valley in 1756.
There are sparklers, whites, rosés, reds, sweet and, of course, fortified wines and, if you strike lucky, you’ll do yourself extremely well. The problem, of course, is that Portuguese is a famously impenetrable language, and many of the regions and most of the grapes are hard to understand or pronounce. I was once told that the best way to speak Portuguese was to drink two bottles of port, put a hot potato in your mouth and speak Spanish. I did try this and, dear reader, it did not work. I discovered, however, that não me sinto muito bem means ‘I don’t feel very well’...
If you have a spare weekend and the wherewithal, let me recommend a trip to Porto and the World of Wine (aka WOW), a vast permanent exhibition devoted to the grape in its many forms, spread across 35,000sq ft in and beside a series of former port lodges. Among the many experiences is a Wine School and the so-called Wine Experience, both of which give brilliant expositions of Portugal’s wine regions and grapes. I learned much and left both enlightened and pleasantly squiffy. Do also visit the Pink Palace, a defiantly camp exhibition devoted to the glory that is rosé and which is an absolute hoot.
Since my Soho lunch and Porto break, I have decided always to seek out a Portuguese wine on the list. I’ve had a few duds but many more bullseyes. I’ve learned the Vinho Verde can be an utter delight, far removed from the lean, mean, slightly fizzy crap of old; that field blends (a Portuguese speciality whereby dozens, even scores, of different varieties grown in one vineyard are harvested and vinified together) can be exhilaratingly complex; that Encruzado is now one of my favourite varieties; that Douro Valley reds can be truly majestic; and that white port and tonic – Porto tonico – is a thing of liquid wonder.
Do seek out some of these treasures and if you can’t get to Greek Street or Porto, visit the Wines of Portugal website (winesofportugal.com) to learn more.
“It was bang on. I had a second glass just to make sure. Yep, I was sure”