Pascona, a Montsant that tells the extraordinary story of a post-war girl, and who is now eighty years old

Today's wine is the fruit of an extraordinary story, so fascinating that I'm warning you now that, as far as I'm concerned, it won't end here. We have a Montsant, a blend of Garnacha and Cariñena, from vines between 60 and 80 years old, from the 1922 vintage, when the drought was just beginning. The estate, which was registered in 1827, has always had crops, especially hazelnut trees. I imagine, of course, that in the 1980s a fifty-kilo sack of hazelnuts was worth the same as two thousand kilos of grapes. The grapes were taken to the cooperative. Today's wine comes from the most granitic part of the estate, in a steep area facing east, but sheltered by a mountain that keeps it in shadow all morning. Toni Ripoll, son of the protagonist of this story, tells me—while watching the sunset—that the first wine from the estate was made by his father, under the Tarragona DO. It was called Pascona. And now, let's begin.

The Pascó family "was well-off in Falset." They owned this estate and on Sundays they would go "for a stroll." They didn't live there. But things changed. The estate passed into the hands of the two Pascó heiresses. Their names were Mari Pau and Guadalupe Pascó, and they were cousins ​​of Toni's grandmother. And then this grandmother became very ill when she had her fourth child. And what did she do? She divided her three eldest children among the family. One went to his godfather's house, another to his uncle's, and the ten-year-old girl, Toni's mother, went to live with the Pascó cousins, whom everyone called "the Pascones," two very influential women. When the girl arrived, they were about 50 years old and single. They had been promising young women, yes, but they suffered one of the hardships of the war. The two boys were leaving the cinema when they were arrested (by the Republican side) and taken away on "the death bus." They were shot against the cemetery wall. The two almost-widowed women were completely distraught.

And then, out of the blue, a baby girl fell into their laps. And that girl filled the house with joy, excuses, doll play, gifts, and colors. Work, school, vacations, ribbons, and dresses. Both Pascones lived off their investments. They could afford to travel: "They traveled a lot, in the postwar period, with her."

A girl in shared custody

The years take their toll. The girl grows up and realizes that the farm is being run by the tenant farmers. The young woman tells them, "They're not treating you properly, they're ruining half of it. From now on, I'll take care of it." And so the young woman takes charge of the farm. Then one day, the girl's mother knocks on the door. "We've recovered now, you can give us back the girl," she says. The Pascones, shaken, tell her that if they bring the girl back, they'll die of grief. And the girl, as in the old-fashioned shared custody arrangements, to please both her aunts and her mother, spends weekdays with one family and weekends with the other. She takes care of them until the end, and the farm ends up being her inheritance. Toni's father, husband of the young heiress, Assumpta Rull, who comes from the Ribera d'Ebre region, uproots hazelnut trees and invests in Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and Syrah.

Enjoy the Pascona, a classic Montsant, with the distinctive character imparted by the granite, and the incredible tenacity of Asunta Rull, who is now eighty years old and the protagonist of one of the most fascinating stories in the world of wine at our winery.