Against tariffs, we enjoyed this hairy Garnacha from Terra Alta

Have you ever seen the hairy Garnacha? It has this name because its leaves have a kind of hair that absorbs water from the morning dew. This means it's resistant to climate change. Juanjo Galcerà y Piñol, from Bodega Piñol, in Terra Alta, tells me this. (I never quite get used to the wonder of Catalan surnames, so unique and linked to the land: Pinyol, Cirera, Poma, Trepat...)

This year, however, the land isn't suffering, because it has rained. "Last year we lost 30% of the harvest, and the year before, 20%," Juanjo explains. He adds, smiling: "My grandmother Teresita always said: 'April showers are like thousand-dollar bills.'" This grandmother has deserved—and it is a beautiful practice practiced in many wineries—to give a wine her name. Mater Teresita, a blend of the native varieties of Terra Alta: Morenillo, Garnacha Tinta, and Cariñena. You've probably heard of the name of this winery's most emblematic wine, dedicated, this time, to the grandfather: El Abuelo Rufí, which is made in white (Garnacha Blanca) and red (Cariñena from old vineyards). Like Mater Teresina, the Morenillo (which no one represents in a color) is from this variety. They finally produced a 100% Morenillo in 2009, which we must try.

But let's move on to our hairy Garnacha today. It's a wine without a barrel. They were looking for—and have found—a fresh, sweet, easy-drinking style, like having a piece of candy in your mouth. A mouthful that fills but doesn't occupy. And this is true, even though it's a single-plot wine from 45-year-old vines.

The winery's winemakers are Cristina Borrull, who at 29 has already been with them for six or seven years, and Toni Coca, who owns the admired and extraordinary Coca i Fitó winery. Cristina, young as she is, wanted a "younger" wine. And so they did: they destemmed the grapes, put them in contact with the skins, but perhaps for fewer days—about twenty?—because they weren't looking for "so much tannicity," that is, that roughness of the tannins. The malolactic conversion (malic acid converts to lactic acid) was completed, and they had it. They stirred it with the stick (the French call it batonnage, but what should we call it?) as it would be done with white wine. "We hesitated about putting it in a concrete egg, but since we liked it so much, we left it."

The wine in your glass is fresh, energetic, and vibrant, a gem. "I'm getting older, and before, perhaps I liked Cabernets more; now, Pinot Noire. And this is like Pinot Noire." Taste changes, but not only with age. The world of wine is moving in that direction. It's moving away from powerful wines: "Before, when I couldn't see any color, I already said I wouldn't like it." It's a subtle, elegant wine, with lots of fruit on the palate. The passage through the mouth is very smooth and—to put it like Juanjo—"round." Being a wine from Terra Alta, it's very fresh, and that, without a doubt, is due to this beautiful variety, the Garnacha Peluda. Have it with white meat, lamb, or some fish. I think it's a wine for friends and a recapte cake or pasta.

The vines are in Batea, heading toward Gandesa, in the Collado del Moro. They grow in the honeycomb soil, characteristic of the area. The one you're tasting today is the first vintage, the 23rd. The 24th will soon be on the market. Always, always, behind the wines there is the effort of many stubborn people, like the Garnacha Peluda. And that effort, in this bottle, brings great joy. Take it, covered, to a dinner with friends. For playing and learning, there's nothing like single-varietal varieties. It's a great moment to get to know—and, therefore, to love—our varieties, which are unique in the world. I love this wine and those who make it possible.

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