A Montsant wine with a (black) Mallorcan soul that challenges Donald Trump

Miquel Àngel Cerdà is an old friend, and whenever we call each other—whether I'm going to Mallorca or he's coming to Catalonia, or we meet at wine fairs—we greet each other like family and share a few glasses. Today, when I call him, he says, "Do you know the last time we spoke? You had Jordi Segura on the radio show, and you called me!" He's referring to the director of Euroselección, importer of Riedel glasses (those cloud-like glasses that amplify wine). "So where are you now?" I ask him. "We should talk about the Llenca Plana." He sighs and laughs. "I'm leaving, the world is in terrible shape. I'm going to Brazil, Mexico, Colombia, to sell wine. You're scared shitless with everything that's happening!" He's referring to Trump's tariff policy. "We worked in the United States until Trump (but during his first term, right?) started to piss us off." Rico, for his frankness, which I love, and I say to him: "Do you know that Trump has a winery?" And then he says: "He'll do it poison!" And he tells me seriously that now, like many winemakers, they are saying goodbye to the US.

Let's go to today's wine. It's a Tierra de Falanis project, which Miguel Ángel shares with his partner Pere Obrador. –he says (who would have one, right?)–. And Xavier Sedó introduced us, he has a small winery in the Sierra de Almos. The vineyards face the sea, and so we can use the orientation to create our concept of wines in relation to the sea." My friend Miguel Ángel pronounces "la mar" very well. "This is the philosophical part, vineyards with a maritime influence. But what wines are made in Montsant, on the façade that faces the sea? Garnachas and Cariñenas. The thing is that Llenca Plana is Cariñena with a touch of Garnacha. "All the studies we've done at Alma Negra, all the crazy things, we've applied there; It's a way of carrying out the work done in soul with an excellent guy, a guy like you don't find anymore."

And we talk about this wine, which is of a finesse and fruitiness that makes you move your bones. "We have been taming this wine in French oak barrels with an extra-fine grain that we use for Callet d'Alma, but with these Garnachas." And it's because they want them complex, not monolithic. "I love that we export the little knowledge we have had in 30 years to our friend Xavier. From now until we're old, we'll see if it's good or not good."

So, Terra de Felanis hugs Xavier, a farmer who makes oil and grapes (the cherry trees have had to be removed). "When I met him, Xavier, I said: 'I'm going for it.'"

To finish, or to start again, I ask him a trick question, since I know him. "And aromas, will you talk to me?" I ask, laughing. "Yes, man! Those who make wine, when they go as tasters, they make me feel sorry for them! We, the oenologists, have to be in the winery every day to detect problems. Virtues should be spoken about by others when the work is done."

We say goodbye, each of us holding a glass of Llanca Plana, in the distance. "I have a reproach to make!" he says. "Me?" I am surprised. "No, it's so you can make it public: you don't consider Alma Negra wines Catalan. And we are insular Catalonia!" Ah, this isn't about us, readers. So we raise our glasses and toast, toast with this marvel.

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