Beyond the cavernous, candlelit stairs
that lead from Av. Libertad in Buenos Aires's upscale
Recoleta district into Gran Bar Danzon - quite possibly the
world's sexiest wine bar - a beautiful seduction ensues. She
emerges amid the exposed concrete walls and air ducts of this
dark and sultry haunt of urban sophisticates and pounces on
the uninitiated armed with a single weapon: the sweet
element of surprise. Her name is Malbec.
The sweltering allure of the tango and the ridiculously passionate
and attractive population are both well-documented world
contributions of the European-leaning
Argentina. And now, thanks to
$1.2 billion in European investments since the mid-'90s, Argentine
wines - marketed with significantly less savvy (and pesos) than
Chilean brands, though every bit as tasty - and their signature
grape, Malbec, are finally making a startling impact on the palates
of New World wine lovers.
Not only that, but the country's famed grass-fed pampas steer,
loved the world over by carnivorous foodies, provides a pairing so
intimately perfect, you'll often find yourself daydreaming of your
next meal - which will inevitably appear before you on any visit to
these seductive streets. Best of all, though, are the prices. Due
to El Corralito, or "Little Fence" - the local term for 2001-02's
knee-buckling financial crisis that began with the freezing of
accounts and ended with an eventual 73 percent devaluation of the
Argentine peso - the country remains an astounding bargain.
The country's wine industry is centered in and around Mendoza (a
quick hour-and-a-half flight west from Buenos Aires) and Salta
(which is two hours north by plane). A few days exploring the
capital is the perfect way for vacationing oenophiles to start
their trip.
Buenos Aires
As I take the first bite of my bife de lomo, a popular beef cut
served at the traditional steak house El Trapiche, located in the
trendy Palermo Hollywood district, I think to myself that I must
have died and gone to heaven. Doused with chimichurri, a
mouthwatering accompaniment of many variations, frequently made
from parsley, garlic, hot peppers, bay leaves, oregano, basil, and
vinegar, the dish could turn any vegetarian into a cattle farmer by
meal's end.
Argentines actually eat more beef per capita than any other people
in the world - nearly 40 pounds per person per year more than
Americans - so any trip to the country is sure to be a diet killer
(though Atkins would have been proud). The local populace obviously
knows a good thing when it's got it and sees little reason to eat
much else. One dinner at the right parrilla (Trapiche, La Brigada,
La Cabaña - there are more than 10,000 to choose from) and you'll
see little reason to argue.
That night, I lay my head down at Buenos Aires's newest and hippest
digs, the Faena Hotel+Universe, where
Philippe Starck has created
an übermodern Imperial-style design hotel - it's dripping with
sultry reds and rich blacks - inside a former grain warehouse in
Puerto Madero Este. I fall asleep wondering: Can one survive on
Malbec and beef alone?
Mendoza
I arrive at Carlos Pulenta's brand-new boutique winery in the
Vistalba district of Mendoza's Lujan de Cuyo wine region - the
oldest grape-growing area in this high-altitude wilderness - long
after the sun has set over the Del Plata range of the
Andes, which
cuts across the western outskirts of Mendoza. But this is okay, as
Pulenta, an
Argentine wine legend, has two beautifully appointed
rooms available to visitors at his dream winery (one of the few in
town not funded by foreign investments).
The next morning, I wander down the center of the adobelike
building - a purely Medocinian mud-toned structure designed by
local architect Eliana Bormida - and marvel at this austere oasis
in the desert (Mendoza only receives seven or so inches of rain a
year, and it's one of the world's only wine regions lacking ocean
influence). Layers of reddish-orange vineyards and golden poplar
trees in full autumnal bloom light up the landscape like a fiery
kaleidoscope.
Then I turn around and see them. The Andes. Fully snowcapped and
perfectly framed under the entrance arch to the winery. I nearly
trip over myself fumbling for my camera. There's no doubt Pulenta
picked this spot with Mayan accuracy, and I think this is surely
the world's most astonishing wine region view - for the moment,
anyway.
El Corralito may have devastated the country's banking
system, but the wineries are now benefiting big-time. Why? Because
those with dollars or euros to spend can now get three times for
their money. As a result, the Argentine wine-tasting trail is
flourishing with brand-new, ultramodern, design-forward wineries
whose owners clearly had more than grape-crushing on their minds
during construction. At Pulenta, for instance, you get an amazing
room outfitted in chic, earth-toned appointments, two meals,
endless wine (bottles and tastings), Internet access, a minibar -
everything, really - for $160 per night. Last but not least, you
can hang out with the winemaker as he turns Malbec, Cabernet
Sauvignon, Syrah, and Bonarda into Pulenta's signature blends.
At Bodegas Salentein in the Uco Valley, an hour's drive from
Mendoza proper, a similar wonder is in place. Dutch investors have
thrown $60 million into this Architectural Digest-worthy cellar
whose dark, industrial look is a marvel of modern winery
engineering. In other words, these are a far cry from traditional
French châteaus, or even from the classic feel of most California
wineries.
Nearby, there's Clos de los Siete, a joint venture between seven of
France's most heralded wine figureheads (grape globe-trotter Michel
Rolland included) and Argentine winemakers. I arrange a lunch at
Monteviejo, the first of three stunning wineries to open in these
seven vineyards. This marvelous structure sits right between Mount
Aconcagua of the Andes to the west and the gorgeous Uco Valley to
the east.
For 60 pesos ($20), the best empanadas I have ever eaten kick-start
a meal that includes a full-on asado, or mixed grill, and ends with
flan flanked by Argentina's famed caramel-like milk jam, dulce de
leche. The bottle of Clos de Los Siete, an experimental blend that
includes grapes from each of the seven vineyards, costs 40 pesos
($13.50) more, but at this exchange rate, who cares? It all goes
down as I gape at the vistas from the dining room - a portrait of
vineyards in every direction, framed by the Andes and Uco Valley -
which are surely unparalleled in the wine world.
Salta
If there was any doubt I'm in a carnivorous country, it's shed when
my guide in Salta - a 100-percent-normal, 34-year-old guy - whips
out a facon to cut his meat at a parrilla in charming San Lorenzo,
just outside town. Gauchos, as Argentine cowboys are known, use
this large knife first to slaughter their herd, later to cut up
said herd for consumption, and then for protection anywhere else
along the way - should the need arise. After lunch, he cleans it
with bread (never water, I learn - it dulls the knife) and slides
it back into the leather case on his belt. I immediately ask him
where I might procure one for myself. "In Cafayate," he says, where
I just so happen to be heading next.
Highway 68 runs south from Salta City to the wine region of
Cafayate, one of Salta Province's most important wine areas. The
three-hour drive is spectacular. Wild herds of llamas and goats
roam free through the Cafayate Ridge, a gorge cutting right through
the Andes that can only be described as Grand Canyon-esque. Up a
dusty desert road from town sits San Pedro de Yacochuya winery,
another Franco-Argentine affair. There's no tasting here, but 80
pesos ($27) will secure lunch, wine, and yet another amazing view.
After lunch, it's off to Estancia Colomé, a
boutique hotel and
winery that boasts the highest vineyards in the world at 9,892 feet
(the lodge sits at 7,546). Swiss winemaker Donald Hess purchased
this property - located deep in the Andes and miles from nowhere -
in 2001. To reach it from Cafayate, it's a 75-mile ride on deserted
dirt roads through Quebrada de Las Flechas (Arrow's Gorge), one of
the most incredible landscapes I have ever seen. Imagine if a
giant gaucho whipped out his facon and began arbitrarily slicing
up rock formations, and you'll have an idea of what this
little-known geological wonder looks like.
Hess has turned Colomé into a self-sufficient, biodynamic winery
and luxury nine-room boutique hotel literally at the end (and on
top) of the world. For a wine lover, it's pure paradise. The
gorgeous property in the Calchaquí Valley, decked out in indigenous
yellows, reds, and beiges, is sandwiched between the two most
spectacular Andes ranges this trip has produced. There is nothing
to do here but sit back with a bottle of Hess's Amalaya de Colomé,
a heart-stopping red blend, and gaze at what is truly the most
eye-popping view in the modern wine world. This time, I've really
found it.
Back in Buenos Aires, over yet another mouthwatering steak — this time at La Brigada, a San Telmo parrilla regarded by many as the city’s best — there’s another Malbec in sight, being sipped by a ubiquitous dark-haired Argentine beauty. I recall something the winemaker at Salentein in Mendoza said to me earlier in the week about one of his bottles: “If I were to ask a woman to marry me,” he said, “this is the bottle of wine I would bring to the occasion.”
At these prices, I’ll take a case.
.
the distance between wineries in argentina can be daunting — these grapes aren’t bunched on top of one another like they are in napa. but there are several reputable outfitters, both stateside and in argentina, who can arrange tours of the areas.
los angelesdestinations & adventures,
(800) 659-4599,
www.daitravel.com
mendozasouthernmost,
www.smjourneys.com
saltamarina turismo,
www.marina-semisa.com.ar