Something Different this way comes, Maturana Tinta
Rioja, Spain: not exactly the most obscure wine region on the planet when it comes to producing gorgeous, internationally recognized wine. In fact, it was just a few days ago, on October 30th, 2025, that James Suckling announced the Top 100 Most Prestigious Wines of Spain. After evaluating 3,500 wines this past year, Rioja was crowned the best wine region in Spain for the third year in a row.
That brings up the question: can a region really be that “can’t take my eyes off you” good three years in a row? Wouldn’t you eventually get bored with the same wines? Most people picture Rioja as a land ruled solely by Tempranillo, from fruity, bright, red-cherry Joven styles, to the Gran Reservas layered with dried cherry, blackberry preserve, forest floor, leather, balsamic, and tobacco. But Rioja is far more complex. There are several well-established grapes that make single-varietal wines or blend beautifully with Tempranillo: Garnacha (Grenache in France), Mazuelo (Carignan in France), and in smaller but notable amounts, Graciano. And yes—Rioja produces whites. The most famous is Viura, known as Macabeo when used to produce Cava in the Penedès region.
Rioja has actually been Spain’s sparkling diamond of viticulture since the beginning of wine in the Iberian Peninsula, extending all the way back to the sea-faring Phoenicians around 1,100 BCE, and later the Romans around 400 BCE. Production boomed dramatically between 1492 and 1600, during the age of exploration, when Spain finally began exporting wine to international markets. Rolling through the 17th and 18th centuries, Spain’s reputation soared. Rioja developed an unknown number of grape varieties: some brought from abroad for cultivation, others naturally cross-bred into entirely new varieties. The point is this: as Rioja expanded to serve a growing global marketplace, so did the number of grapes, influenced by other viticultural regions and styles.
Then, everything changed. In the early 19th century, Spain was finally hit by Phylloxera, the devastating disease that had already ravaged vineyards throughout Europe. Rioja was spared for a while, but in 1899, the first detection hit. It was catastrophic: total vineyard loss, economic devastation, unemployment, and massive disruption. Politics and economics shifted priorities toward producing quantity instead of quality. Spain’s wine reputation plummeted. A return to quality would not come until 1986, when Spain entered the European Union. Suddenly, investment money poured in. Modernization began. Wineries rebuilt, equipment was updated, and Spain re-entered the global wine world with a mission to be taken seriously again.
But the global consumer has a short memory and an even shorter attention span, especially when it comes to learning grape names from countries whose languages or histories they don’t yet connect with. So, what did Spanish winemakers and marketers decide to do? Focus the world on one, maybe two, recognizable grapes. Teach consumers, slowly, to say “Tempranillo,” then maybe “Garnacha,” and for the adventurous crowd, “Albariño.”
And remember: wine is a slow business. From planting a vine to producing fruit good enough for commercial winemaking takes five to seven years. Then comes harvest, fermentation, aging, bottling, distribution, and finally, a consumer seeing that wine on a shelf or wine list and deciding they want to try it. By the time that moment arrives, a decade may have passed. And acceptance? Branding? Familiarity? That might take even longer.
So, while Tempranillo was busy becoming Spain’s global superstar, a group of researchers in 1988 began a different mission: preserving Spain’s nearly forgotten native grapes. In a single vineyard in Navarrete, they successfully recovered thirty grape varieties that had nearly vanished. The star among them was Maturana Tinta. The earliest known reference to this grape in Rioja dates back to 1622 in the Nájera-Rivadavia area. One might call it “ancient,” “lost,” or perhaps just “waiting for its comeback moment.”
As Jancis Robinson notes, “Maturana Tinta” is also a synonym for Trousseau, a grape native to the Jura region of eastern France, near the Swiss border. But the plot thickens. DNA profiling makes it clear that not all wines labeled “Maturana Tinta” are the same. Some are actually Maturana Tinta de Navarrete, a variant of the true Maturana Tinta. That little phrase, “de Navarrete,” matters. How does this confusion happen? Simple: vines mutate. DNA is not always stable. Over centuries, a grape can adapt to different soils, climates, or pruning methods. Those tiny genetic shifts eventually create noticeable differences in flavor, structure, or growth habits. So, moral of the story: read Rioja labels carefully.
Today, Maturana Tinta is being grown in Chillarán (480m altitude) in the town of Labastida, one of the noblest vineyard areas in Rioja Alavesa. The site offers excellent sun exposure and natural protection from cold northern winds. The grape prefers low humidity and well-draining soils, but it is far from easy to grow. It is vigorous, requiring intensive canopy management. It forms compact bunches with small berries, making it sensitive to botrytis fungus, which is helpful in sweet wine production but decidedly not helpful here. The tight bunches struggle to dry after rain. And because Maturana Tinta buds late, its delicate flowers are vulnerable to spring frost, and no flowers mean no grapes. Add low consumer recognition and low economic reward, and it becomes clear why farmers hesitate to plant it. Thus, the grape remains in what the industry politely calls an “experimental status.”
This leads to the obvious question: Will consumers pay higher prices for a grape they’ve never heard of? What makes someone take that first leap of faith on an unfamiliar bottle? During the month of October 2025, City Vino decided to find out. Instead of spotlighting predictable Rioja Tempranillo, the Wine Cru featured the 2019 Viña Otano Maturana Tinta Reserva.
Tasting Notes:
100 percent Maturana Tinta. Deep ruby in color. Aromas of leather, violets, raspberry, dark cherry, wet leaves, paprika, black pepper, herbaceous tones, balsamic, toast, and a whisper of cassis. On the palate: dark berries, black currant, black plum, herbal notes, wet stone, baking spice, leather, and cigar smoke. Dry, medium acidity, and medium, fine-grained, rounded tannins. Medium-bodied, with a beautiful balance of weight and concentration that intensifies as the wine opens. The finish lingers medium-plus, plush with tobacco leaf and worn leather.
Food Pairing Ideas: Charred eggplant with pomegranate molasses, smoked duck breast with blackberry compote, lamb kofta with grilled halloumi, wild mushroom and thyme risotto, roasted beet salad with balsamic glaze and toasted walnuts, venison stew with paprika and root vegetables, manchego with quince paste, cocoa-rubbed pork loin with cherry reduction, grilled portobello burgers with smoked gouda, and dark-chocolate-covered figs with sea salt.
If you consider yourself an explorer of wine, someone who enjoys tasting the world, discovering forgotten grapes, and learning along the way, then the City Vino Wine Cru is designed for you. As of this writing, membership is $65 per month, including one or two bottles of wine, a cheese and cracker pairing, 10 percent off bottles in the shop, and various bonuses. The best part? Each month arrives with a detailed letter from Rita Allan, explaining the theme, history, grape, and food pairings in friendly, engaging language. It also makes a fantastic Christmas gift for the wine adventurer in your life.
Comments
Be the first to comment...