Tidings Magazine

Its location on the western edge of the Iberian Peninsula, a weak economy in the early 1900s and a military dictatorship that lasted for almost forty years essentially put Portugal in self-imposed isolation for most of the twentieth century. Without outside intervention, vineyards were left to their own devices —at a time when other European countries were playing Twister to see who could plant the most international varietals.

This is not to say that Portuguese wines were completely forgotten. Port and Madeira continued to thrive. And the semi-sparkling pink wines known under the Mateus, Casal Mendes and Lancers labels — a great wine-marketing success story onto themselves — managed to flourish through the turbulent times.

Even today, now that it’s fully part of the European Union and has complete access to everything wine-and-grape fashionable, Portugal still embraces its heritage and concentrates on native grapes — at last count some 500 or so. For reds, the top dog is Touriga Nacional, the backbone of Port and of increasing amounts of powerful, dry reds. Tinta Roriz (aka Aragonez, aka Spain’s Tempranillo) works well on its own, but is often blended, providing a D. Wade touch to Touriga’s Shaq.

I’m starting to look forward to a holiday. My jaunt through Oregon, learning about organic, biodynamic and sustainable vineyard practices (see Part Three of my trip around the Pacific Northwest in the forthcoming April issue), had been fascinating. It had also been rather exhausting: a typical case of a lot to swallow without much time to spend at the table. In any case, the good folks at the Washington Wine Council had provided me with a great itinerary for (what I assumed) would be a leisurely ramble through the state’s picturesque wine country. It was my time and I’d call the shots. Well, guess what? Washington is a big place with seemingly countless wineries with, in some cases, considerable distances between them. Eight hundred (or so) kilometres of driving later, I am really, really ready for a holiday!

Do I regret a single kilometre? As if.

One visit and you’ll be entranced. A complex and richly compelling country, Argentina defies easy analysis. Wine, though, plays a huge role in defining the nation’s culture.

Only recently overtaken by the United States, Argentina stood as the fifth largest wine producer in the world — imagine that. And the wines were rarely seen outside the country. The main reason for this is that Argentines just drank it all themselves. Buenos Aires, which translates as “good winds,” numbers some twelve million inhabitants — known to the rest of their countrymen as Porteños, meaning “from the port” — and they’re all clearly thirsty.

The culture of the city and most of southern Argentina is almost entirely European, with Spanish and Italian immigrants everywhere. And these ordinary folk brought the vines of their homelands with them. Far more than anywhere in the New World, wine became the everyday beverage of the people. Local wines were consumed in copious quantities and for the most part, quality took second place to quantity.

Wine tastings are a dime a dozen but one of the hottest tickets around is the Banée of Oliver. At this annual winery-only banquet, southern Okanagan producers gather for a convivial evening of swapping stories and tasting not just each others’ wines but bottles from around the world.

Nova Scotia–raised Gina Haverstock caught the wine bug while working at the Jost Vineyards in Malagash, shortly after graduating with a BSc from the University of New Brunswick. Her experience at Jost was life-transforming: she abandoned plans to become a doctor and set her sights on winemaking instead, going on to complete the prestigious program in cool-climate oenology and viticulture at Brock University in Ontario. The energetic Haverstock also managed to earn a sommelier certification through the International Sommelier Guild. She then went on to work in vineyards and wineries of such far-flung places as Hawke’s Bay in New Zealand, Rüdesheim in the Rheingau, the Wachau region of Austria, topping things off with a brief stint in Burgundy.

Flying winemakers, move over! There’s a new wine celebrity in town: the flying image-maker. His name is Bernie Hadley-Beauregard and he has an MBA in Marketing and International Business, a degree that’s taken him to Calona Wines, Purdy’s Chocolates and Starbucks Coffee, among others. In 2001, he started his own design and marketing company, Brandever Strategies. One of his first clients was a long-standing Okanagan winery with an unpronounceable name: Prpich Hills. The new owners had come to him for a makeover.

Hadley-Beauregard researched the history of the area and unearthed the following local lore. In 1929, an old wooden church had to be dismantled in its original mining encampment site in Fairview and reassembled in Okanagan Falls, thirty kilometres away. In order to loosen the wooden nails that held the rafters together, the miners used four sticks of dynamite. The parish priest was given the honour of lighting the fuse. The controlled blast loosened the nails but it also toppled the steeple.