We’re back on the Wine Walkabout bus, still buzzing from Portugal’s sun-drenched slopes. I’m slamming the pedal to the floor, careening over the border into Spain, where the air smells of dust, rebellion, and jamón that’ll make you weep.
But let’s get one thing straight before we dive into this glorious mess: leave your wine snobbery at the door.No pinkies in the air, no waxing poetic about “bouquets of blackberry” or “whispers of unicorn tears.” No pinkies in the air, no waxing poetic about “bouquets of blackberry” or “whispers of unicorn tears.” Wine in Spain isn’t a flex—it’s breakfast, a birthright, the pulse of every rowdy meal since the Phoenicians schlepped vines over 3,000 years ago from the eastern Mediterranean coast. Spain’s been fermenting its soul into every bottle.
And where better to kick things off than Rioja—the first stop on Spain’s vino rollercoaster. If Spain is the rebel with a glass, Rioja, is the sly ringleader, leaning against the bar with a raised brow, daring you to underestimate her.
Rioja — The Grand Dame with Attitude
Rioja, Spain’s wine queen—crown askew, dress singed from a flamenco-fueled bender, smirking like she knows what you did last night. Tempranillo rules, blended with Garnacha, Graciano, or Mazuelo, and aged in American oak until it’s done. Beyond the oak and Tempranillo swagger, Rioja is a study in contradictions. You’ve got the cool Atlantic breezes of Rioja Alavesa, the warmer, fruit-driven Rioja Oriental, and the balanced classicism of Rioja Alta. Three regions, one attitude: all of them arguing at the same table, all of them right.
Crianza: Young and sassy, like cherry candy with a peppery jab.
Reserva: Struts with vanilla and leather, don’t forget your safe word.
Gran Reserva: The wise sage—cedar, tobacco, and velvet so lush you’ll propose to it.
Best Bottle: (Always debatable): Marqués de Murrieta Ygay Gran Reserva Especial ($100+)—a Tempranillo-led icon, aged to silky glory, bursting with dark cherry, tobacco, and spice that dances like a flamenco star and lingers like a juicy scandal.
Medium-Priced Pick: Muga Crianza ($20+) with notes of vanilla and a hint of oak, reminiscent of a Rioja party in a bottle, perfect for your tapas crawl budget.
Pair with lamb chops charred over vine clippings, the air thick with smoke and soccer rants. Hit Logroño’s tapas bars like Bar Soriano, where you’ll croon flamenco with a butcher named Juan till 3 a.m. No story, no headache? You flunked Rioja.
Ribera del Duero — The Bad Boy
Roll west to Ribera del Duero, where Tempranillo (also known as Tinto Fino) is forged in high-altitude sun with lean oak, churning out reds that are darker and more focused than a bullfighter’s eyes. At nearly 3,000 feet above sea level, Ribera vines bake in searing daytime sun then freeze under cold nights. That swing builds wines with muscle and attitude—broad shoulders wrapped in dark fruit and smoke. It’s Tempranillo forged in extremes, the kind of stuff you drink when you want your red wine to fight back. These wines are brawny, bold, and ready to arm-wrestle you into submission.
Best Bottle: Vega Sicilia Único ($400+)—a beast of blackberry, espresso, and minerality, like a matador staring down a bull with a glass in hand.
Medium-Priced Pick: Emilio Moro Finca Resalso ($18)—juicy plum and spice with enough grit to charm your socks off without breaking the bank. Pair with a black and blue ribeye at a dinner raging past midnight, bottles piling up as you bicker over the next round. Ribera doesn’t ask—it owns.
Priorat — The Rebel’s Elixir
South in Catalonia’s Priorat, medieval monks coaxed miracles from rocky slopes. Garnacha and Cariñena craft reds so intense they’re like a flamenco dancer stomping your taste buds—blackberry, slate, and spice that headbutts you awake. What makes Priorat taste like it just crawled out of a rockslide is its llicorella soil—black slate and quartz that squeeze every drop of intensity out of the grapes. You don’t just sip Priorat, you wrestle with it. It’s a glass that dares you to keep up, and most nights, you won’t.
Best Bottle: Álvaro Palacios L’Ermita ($150+ depending on Vintage)—a cult classic of dark fruit, licorice, and minerality, like a thunderstorm in a medieval monastery.
Medium-Priced Pick: Torres Salmos ($30)—bold black cherry and spice with Priorat’s signature grit, minus the cult-wine price tag. Pair with roasted venison under a starlit terrace, swapping tales with a winemaker who has seen ghosts. Priorat’s are rare and worth it—don’t tell the monks you paired it with pizza.
Rías Baixas — The Mermaid’s Kiss
In Galicia’s Rías Baixas, where the Atlantic smacks cliffs like an angry ex, Albariño reigns. Vines trace back to Celtic druids toasting sea Gods. This white is crisp as a winter wave, with notes of lemon zest and a salty tang. Albariño here is basically bottled coastline. The vineyards are often just steps from the Atlantic, mist hanging low, salt in the air, grapes practically marinating before harvest. That saline bite isn’t marketing fluff—it’s the ocean itself crashing into your glass. Sip on a cliffside, wind tangling your Toupee, until you’re half-pirate. Galicia doesn’t do restraint—why should you?
Best Bottle: Pazo de Señoráns Selección de Añada ($50+)—a citrus orchard by the ocean, with depth that turns you briefly poetic.
Medium-Priced Pick: Martín Códax Albariño ($15)—zesty lime and peach with a sea-breeze vibe, perfect for guzzling with shellfish on a budget. Drink with oysters so fresh they’re winking or mussels dripping brine.
Cava — The Fiesta Fuel
In Catalonia’s Penedès, Cava’s fizzed since the 1800s, when locals told Champagne to shove it. Xarel·lo, Macabeo, and Parellada make sparklers from bone-dry Brut to Sec that will charm your abuela. Cava’s secret sauce isn’t just the grapes, it’s the underground cellars—kilometers of cold, damp tunnels where bottles rest for years, building flavor and fizz. This patience makes the bubbles sharper, the flavor deeper, the hangovers more honest. And while Champagne frets about prestige, Cava laughs, pours another round, and hands you a plate of croquetas. It’s the pal who gets you dancing on tables at a stranger’s quinceañera.
Best Bottle: Recaredo Turó d’en Mota ($100+)—crisp, toasty, and elegant, like Champagne’s cooler, less snooty cousin.
Medium-Priced Pick: Bohigas Brut (~$16)—lively bubbles with green apple and citrus, your wallet-friendly wingman for any fiesta. Pop it with fried calamari on a tapas crawl or because it’s Tuesday.
Spain doesn’t whisper—it shouts in wine, cheese, and fiestas
It doesn’t just seduce you with its wine—it lures you in with cheese that borders on religion. Manchego’s the gateway drug: nutty, firm, kissed by La Mancha’s wild herbs and sunshine. But wander deeper and you will find Cabrales—blue, funky, unapologetic, aged in caves damp enough to raise the dead. This demands a glass of bold Rioja to keep up. Mahón from Menorca appears salty and tangy, tasting like a sea breeze trapped in butterfat. In Spain, cheese doesn’t play a supporting role. They’re the lead actor, and they’ll steal the scene before you even open the next bottle.
Spain doesn’t care about your ratings or tasting notes. Its wines are loud, proud, and alive—made for reckless nights, endless ham, and strangers who become amigos by dessert. You’ll get lost in medieval alleys, get caught up in town-wide festivals and fiestas, all while singing songs you can’t pronounce.
You’ll wake with a hangover, a dubious tattoo, and a love for a country that never dilutes its wine—or its spirit. So go to Spain. Get loud. Get messy. Drink like a Roman. Eat like a king. Laugh till it hurts.
If you go home unchanged, you weren’t paying attention.
For those who were paying attention Chef Molly’s paella is a soul-searing, palate-lifting masterpiece for your next dinner party. Pair with Martín Códax Albariño and cue the flamenco and try to get to bed before sunrise.
Spanish Paella with Shrimp, Roasted Connecticut Corn & Poblano Peppers
Serves: 6
Ingredients
6 U-10 shrimp (shells reserved for stock if desired)
4 cups homemade shrimp/lobster stock (kept warm)
2 cups bomba rice
1 medium onion, finely diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 poblano pepper, diced
2 golden tomatoes, grated (discard skin)
2 purple tomatoes, grated (discard skin)
2 cobs Connecticut sweet corn, roasted until lightly charred, kernels cut off (reserve some for garnish)
1 roasted red pepper (optional, for garnish)
1 tsp toasted saffron threads, bloomed in 2 tbsp warm stock
2 tsp smoked paprika (pimentón de la Vera)
½ tsp cayenne (optional)
4 tbsp olive oil
Salt and freshly cracked black pepper
Lemon wedges
Fresh parsley, chopped
Method
1. Prepare the Base (Sofrito)
Heat olive oil in a paella pan over medium heat.
Add onion and poblano; cook until softened and lightly caramelized (8–10 minutes).
Stir in garlic, smoked paprika, and cayenne; cook 1 minute.
Add grated golden and purple tomatoes. Cook down until thick and jammy (10–12 minutes).
2. Toast the Rice & Corn
Stir in bomba rice and roasted corn kernels (reserve ¼ cup for garnish).
Toast for 2 minutes so rice absorbs the sofrito flavors.
3. Build the Broth
Add warm shrimp/lobster stock and saffron infusion.
Season well (liquid should taste slightly salty).
Shake pan gently to distribute rice evenly — do not stir after this point.
4. Cook the Paella
Simmer over medium-high heat for 8 minutes, then reduce to medium-low.
Allow rice to absorb liquid undisturbed (15–18 minutes)
5. Add the Shrimp
Nestle U-10 shrimp on top once most liquid is absorbed.
Cook until shrimp are just opaque and rice is al dente.
6. Develop the Socarrat
Raise heat to medium-high for the last 1–2 minutes until you hear a faint crackle.
This creates the caramelized socarrat (crispy rice crust).
7. Rest & Garnish
Remove from heat, cover with a clean towel, and rest 5 minutes.
Garnish with red pepper, parsley, lemon wedges, and the reserved roasted corn.
Serving
Serve straight from the pan with chilled Albariño or a light Spanish rosé. The roasted corn adds bursts of sweetness alongside the saffron, shellfish, and smoky poblano.
Charred Corn–Saffron Aioli
Ingredients
1 ear Connecticut corn, roasted or charred, kernels cut off
1 egg yolk (room temperature)
1 small garlic clove, grated
1 tsp Dijon mustard
½ tsp salt
1 tsp lemon juice (plus more to taste)
½ cup neutral oil (grapeseed or canola) + 2 tbsp olive oil
Pinch of toasted saffron threads, bloomed in 1 tbsp warm water
Method
Char the Corn: Roast or grill the corn until lightly blackened. Cut kernels off and mash/purée into a paste.
Start the Aioli Base: In a bowl, whisk together egg yolk, garlic, Dijon, salt, and lemon juice.
Emulsify: Slowly drizzle in oil while whisking continuously until thick and creamy.
Flavor Boost: Stir in saffron water and the puréed charred corn. Adjust seasoning with salt and lemon juice.
Serving with Paella
Spoon the aioli into a small squeeze bottle or ramekin.
Drizzle lightly over the finished paella just before serving, or let guests spoon it over their own portions.
Garnish with a sprinkle of fresh parsley and a few roasted corn kernels for color contrast.
Recipe by: Molly King-Smith, General Manager & Executive Chef at Rock Ridge Country Club, Newtown, CT. Written by: John Noakes
Dining and Cooking