"This soil is old, very old. They have a special energy," Pepe Mendoza explains to us as we set off to visit his vineyards. We wonder for a moment whether the winemaker is a guru. But before we can ask, the perky dachshund Lola attracts our attention. The 11-year-old dog is always at Pepes' side when he walks through the vineyards. "Lola is always the first to discover ripe grapes!" says the winemaker with a laugh. We immediately notice the imposing dry stone walls. They are a valuable habitat for animals and plants. But that's not all! It rarely rains in the region, but when it does, it pours down in torrents. At times like these, the walls act as filters: the water flows away more slowly, retaining the valuable sediment. "The vineyard and the entire ecosystem are perfectly adapted to this particular climate," explains Pepe Mendoza. Artificial irrigation is unnecessary and goes against his principles: "Why should this vineyard need more water than it gets? If you go for more yield per plant or more plants per hectare – both are detrimental to quality."
Pepe's plants grow stress-free, remain healthy and strong – so he doesn't need any pesticide sprays. "When the soils are vital and pure, the wines simply have a different energy. This is when they show the characteristics of their soil or landscape." But now there's something we want to know. Not about the word "energy", but why his wine is called Veneno, or poison, of all things? "I named the wine after the former owner of the vineyard. His nickname was Uncle Veneno. He was notorious for being gloomy and grumpy, but he left us an exceptional vineyard." One thing we can say with certainty: there's no sign of Uncle Veneno's vibes in the wine, but there's plenty of Mediterranean energy!
Awards
Robert Parker: 95/100, Guía Peñin: 94/100, Tim Atkin: 93/100
