A line-up comprising Spanish white wines of multiple grape varieties, stylistic approaches, and origins was thrillingly diverse, says David Williams as he introduces a tasting shared with Simon Field MW and Andrew Jefford.
The idea that Spain is primarily a red state when it comes to fine wine is indelibly imprinted in the minds of many wine lovers. Certainly, for anyone who came of wine-drinking age before the transformative 21st-century rise of the new generation of artisanal viñateros (any wine lover over the age of 45, more or less), the sad memory of old-school Spanish white wines can be very hard to shake. There are painful recollections of low-energy “traditional” white Riojas, all too often dull and sluggish with oak and oxidation; but there is no love lost, either, for the self-consciously perky, cold-fermented, commercial yeast-shaped whites that so often succeeded them. Even as late as the mid-20-aughts, and despite the excellence of the usual very honorable exceptions (Fefiñanes, López de Heredia, Belondrade y Lurton), it wasn’t always easy to challenge the sweeping, condescending, reductive caricature of Spain as climatically ill suited to the production of world-class white wine.
A small but telling illustration of the progress made by Spanish white wines over the past decade can be found in the difficulty we had putting together a shortlist for this tasting. We were spoilt for choice and paralyzed with FOMO, such is the critical mass of interesting, regionally distinctive white wine being made by conscientious growers in regions throughout Spain. And if none of Spain’s white-winemaking DOs has quite the same depth and breadth of quality and producer as found in, say, Burgundy, Alsace, the Mosel, or Wachau just yet, the speed of progress across the country makes it unlikely we’ll approach this subject in a national-generic way again.
For now, though, there was definitely something wildly exciting about tasting so widely across such a range of regions and grape varieties—the thrill of surprise of the multigenre playlist or jukebox juxtaposition, perhaps, rather than the immersive pleasure of the deep dive into a single artist’s life’s work, but informative and rewarding, nonetheless. And amid all this variety, there was another measure of Spain’s white-wine progress: So many of the places and/or grape varieties included in this tasting were languishing in obscurity, ignored even in their own home regions, until 20, 10, or even five years ago. This kind of varietal and vineyard revival is not unique to Spanish white-wine making—or even to Spain, of course. But the time between initial tentative rediscovery and creation of terroir-expressive fine wine has often been startlingly short for Spanish white wines. That the Ribera del Duero consejo only granted permission for whites (made from Albillo Mayor) to be sold as part of the DO as recently as 2019 is a particularly striking example. (The wines had previously been made as Vino de la Tierra de Castilla y León.) But even the most widely recognized varieties—Albariño and Verdejo—have only really developed a following beyond their home regions since the turn of the 21st century.
Tasting Spanish white wines
Can we make any generalizations from such a heterogeneous selection? While the three of us on the panel were certainly not in agreement on every wine (indeed, we were almost comically far apart on some), we all enjoyed the pronounced sense of regional difference on show. As Simon Field MW observes, this sense of regionality is, slightly paradoxically, the result of a Spain-wide winemaking philosophy—a shared sense of curiosity, or what Simon calls “an inherent spirit of vinous enquiry, worthy of such a large country.” So, while the “winners” were, as Simon puts it, “all so radically different,” that’s largely due to a common desire to make wines with a pronounced sense of place.
The three strongest-performing regions span the north of Spain from coast to coast: Galicia led the way, with four of the top five places and six of the top ten, followed by Catalunya and Rioja, each with a pair in the top ten. No surprise there, perhaps, certainly in Galicia’s performance. This is Green Spain, Atlantic-washed and buffeted, and both wetter and cooler than any of the regions involved in the tasting; intuitively, if simplistically, it feels like white-wine country. But as Andrew Jefford—whose scores indicated a clear preference for the far northwestern region—shrewdly points out, the tasting illustrated the clear stylistic divisions within Galicia itself; he, like all of us, relished the differences “between the dramatic, starkly balanced wines of Rías Baixas and the softer, more textured, and aromatically subtler wines of Ribeira Sacra.”
Varietally speaking, Albariño showed its potential beyond salty-peachy easy-drinking (the 11-year-old example kindly provided by Pazo Señorans illustrating its Riesling-like capacity for graceful aging), but it was Godello that was the Galician star. As Simon says, it “surely ranks as today’s grape of the moment,” the combination of fruit flesh, creaminess, cool stoniness, and acidic cut, as beautifully displayed in the highest-scoring wine, Rafael Palacios As Sortes Valdeorras 2024, inevitably inviting comparisons to Burgundy.
There was similar cross-panel enthusiasm for Catalunya, though it was not evenly distributed across the wines, which, as with Galicia, are markedly different from DO to DO and variety to variety. I loved the contrast between the warm stoniness, generous textures, and ample stone fruit of the Priorat and Montsant wines and the graceful fragrance, orange-citrus tones, and subtle steeliness of the Xarel·los of Penedès. Both styles offer contrastingly evocative snapshots of Mediterranean terroirs. Indeed, as Andrew says, they make a compelling “case for producing perhaps the most distinctive of all ‘Mediterranean’ whites, eclipsing those of Italy and France.”
There was greater disagreement over the wines outside Spain’s northwestern and northeastern extremities. Andrew, who gave the highest score on the day (95, to Adega Ponte da Boga G Godello Ribeira Sacra 2024) found significant disappointments, notably in the three submissions from the Canary Islands (some of which he found borderline undrinkable) and those Riojas that represent a conspicuous attempt to back away from the old oaky ways but that, he feels, have yet to hit on a satisfactory new identity.
Both Simon and I were rather more evenly (and easily) contented. It may have been a function of the constant stylistic swerves, but I was rarely disappointed, reliably thrilled, and never bored. From the high-wire tension and Atlantic wildness of Tenerife and Lanzarote, to the savory mellowness of grand, old-style Rioja and the pithy, herbal, tightly contained energy of Ribera del Duero, it’s hard to disagree with Simon’s view that “white wines from Spain have come on superbly of late and, on this showing, will continue to do so.”
Simon Field on Spanish white wines
A most enjoyable tasting, quietly revealing and discreetly challenging. Revealing because the “winners” were all so radically different, in the process underlining an inherent spirit of vinous enquiry, worthy of such a large country, but thereby challenging, maybe not as discreetly as all that, the idées reçues of binary styles—either dominated by indulgent oak, traditionally American, or consisting of fresh and salty, coastal, marisco-matching quaffers. There were, thankfully, few examples from the peripheries of this evidently outdated analysis.
One or two wines flirted, quite reasonably, with tradition, but even Murrieta’s Capellanía and, especially, Mugas Flor, proved far less oaky than of old; less of a “caricature,” for sure, though some, myself included, do not mind admitting that we still love this style; there was no Tondonia Gran Reserva to demonstrate such timeless credentials. No matter.
What was on show, however, was superb diversity of grape varieties—Albillo, Macabeu, and Xarel·lo but the best known of the less known—and of origins, many of which incline to altitude (Ribera del Duero included) and distinctive terroir. Ribera Sacra and Bierzo are successfully challenging the Rías Baixas Albariño hegemony; Godello surely ranks as today’s grape of the moment. Most revealing of all were the sometimes breathtakingly brilliant wines from Catalunya, with Priorat and Monsant in the vanguard, but there were also exciting examples from Terra Alta and Empordà, to name but two.
Add to this equation the inquisitive itinerant winemaking of doyens such as Telmo Rodríguez and Rafael Palacios, and it becomes clear that white wines from Spain have come on superbly of late and, on this showing, will continue to do so.
Andrew Jefford on Spanish white wines
This was a fascinating, even revelatory tasting that has changed the way I look at Spanish white wines. There were some significant disappointments, but also some very exciting surprises.
We had a very strong showing from Galicia in general, and this was certainly the region that won my highest aggregate marks. I was fascinated to see the difference between the dramatic, starkly balanced wines of Rías Baixas and the softer, more textured and aromatically subtler wines of Ribeira Sacra. Valdeorras and Bierzo fielded only one wine each, but both clearly merit further examination.
The Albillo-based wines of Ribera del Duero and Castilla y León are less showy but gastronomically promising. Based on what we tasted (a selection of nine wines), Rioja seems to have backed away from forcefully oaked traditional offerings, but the region has yet to find a satisfactory stylistic route to take its place. My preferred wines here were the traditional examples, while those made in a different style were often so muted and undemonstrative in character that I was left nonplussed and confused. Perhaps the fault is mine. We saw just one wine from Rueda, but it made a splash.
Catalunya fielded a very exciting set of wines, and this region (thanks to its characterful indigenous varieties, notably Xarel·lo) makes a case for producing perhaps the most distinctive of all “Mediterranean” whites, eclipsing those of Italy and France. Monsant and Priorat within Catalunya clearly have exciting potential, but execution seems variable for the time being. I found the three wines we tasted from the Canary Islands disappointing—since I know from other tastings that wines from here can rival Santorini for originality and saline, close-textured power. Better exist.
To view the panel’s reviews of the Spanish white wines featured in this tasting, sign-up for access to the WFW tasting note database or subscribe to The World of Fine Wine.





