A decade of dreaming on

Winston Churchill was, and Julio Iglesias is, a fan. More significant is that Vega Sicilia is Spain's sole undisputed first growth. This legendary red comes not from Rioja but Ribera del Duero, the quality wine region north of Madrid that takes its name from the banks of the river of gold that eventually becomes Portugal's Douro. And gold is the operative word. For irrespective of its £105 a bottle price tag, there's a list of 700 names waiting to get their hands on it.

It's not just exclusive, but reclusive. This El Dorado-like wine is rarely glimpsed, even at auction, making it even more intriguing. Historically, it was always a prophet, some might say profit, in its own land, most of it released in Spain on a quota system and not on the international market.

In apparently perverse contrast to the modern trend for releasing wines young to facilitate cash flow, Vega Sicilia does the opposite. Traditionally, it lingers for a decade in a mixture of oak casks before being deemed sufficiently mellow and stable for the market. It is released only in vintages considered good enough to justify its prestige and price, and not necessarily in chronological order. There will be no Único, the top wine, in 1992, 1993, 1997 or 2001, so what would otherwise go into Único is blended into a second wine, Valbuena, which is released earlier to assuage the fans.

With a pedigree as noble as a Mouton or Lafite, Vega Sicilia's roots lie deep in the past. In 1864, its enlightened owner, Don Eloy Lecanda, constructed the long, elegantly understated, terracotta bodega, bringing cabernet sauvignon, merlot and malbec back from Bordeaux. These became an essential ingredient along with the local tempranillo, and a white grape, albillo. After a succession of owners, the estate went into a gradual spiral of decline until it was acquired, in 1982, by David Álvarez, a Bilbao businessman intent on restoring its lustre.

The vineyard was renewed, and brought from 80 hectares to today's 270 hectares, planted on a kaleidoscope of chalk, sand, clay and gravel. Time spent in oak, American and French, was reduced, the oak itself seasoned and coopered with the addition of an air-conditioned bottle cellar. The estate is now managed by Álvarez's son Pablo, working with the wine-maker Xavier Ausàs.

Today, between 40,000 and 100,000 bottles of the Único, are made annually, with around twice as much of the more accessible Valbuena, and a relatively new brand, Alión, a seductive, all-tempranillo red made to be released, and drunk, earlier. The current release of Único, the 1989 vintage, still breaks all the rules by spending over 10 years in oak. Yet the wine has emerged ruby-vivid, astonishingly fresh, aromatic and intense, with gloriously rich, but finely poised flavours and silken-textured finesse. The current Valbuena, the 1997 (£43), is relatively evolved, a smoky number, velvet-smooth, with a beguiling roasted coffee and gamey character.

At a surprise one-off launch in London recently, wine writers were treated to six vintages of Valbuena from 1997, and to the fine 2002 vintage of Único, Alión and Vega Sicilia's new property in Toro, Alquiriz. The sobering moment was the realisation that on current form the 2002 Único will not emerge for at least 10 years. A decade of dreaming on.

For enquiries about Vega Sicilia and its wines, contact Morris & Verdin, London SE1 (020-7921 5300, or e-mail sales@m-v.co.uk)