Calchaqui Valley: San Pedro de Yacochuya

It’s about a thirty minute drive to Yacochuya from the small town of Cafayate.  Find a taxi in the main square, arrange a price- no more than 25 pesos, and follow the dirt road up, up, past Domingo Hermanos and a collection of humble houses with green gardens- most of which have a couple of vines growing as well.  The entrance to the winery is lined with short, straight, cacti against quaint stone walls.  Lush, green vineyards are seen to either side, and beyond these, enormous, rugged, red and brown mountains. In November, the property is noticeably quiet, only a few workers are seen ducking in and out of the back door. A large grey cloud passes over the sun and it begins to sprinkle.  Marcos Etchart greets us at the front door, a round, pleasant man, with small, reflective sunglasses and a weakness for cigarettes. He asks us to wait 10 minutes, he has some winemakery duties to attend to. Of course we have no problem, the scenery is beautiful and we are on vacation. 

I wander down to take photos of the vines which are gorgeous with life and already showing pea-sized green grapes.  I investigate the main reception area which is surprisingly barren, though distinctly Argentine. A large table with a stretched leather surface occupies one corner of the room with two outstanding specially carved SPdY wooden chairs with backs and seats of etched metal- the seal of the winery. Two brand new French barrels. One long bar-like table that one assumes is used for tasting. Against one wall stands a glass case displaying all of the wines that they make, plus SPdY t-shirts and a strange Pegasus-type stuffed animal with the winery seal on its side.  Though clearly designed to receive visitors, this site is decidedly un-touristy.

After awhile Marcos returns, offering us both a cigarette before he begins to speak.  He needs no prompting, just starts in talking about the vineyards, the grapes they grow- malbec, cabernet and torrontes- and the philosophy of the winery.  I finally get to ask all of the questions I’ve been accumulating about winemaking in the Salta region. Why does Torrontes grow so well here? Marcos explains that they would like to try to cultivate other white varieties but the likes of Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc are too fragile for such a hot climate.  The altitude adds sun and heat to the equation and with these wines, the grapes would ripen much to quickly in the area, losing the acidity needed for whites.  Torrontes, on the other hand, is super-sturdy.  Marcos comments he hardly has to do anything to get the torrontes to grow properly.  It loves the climate, and I already know his Torrontes is particularly lovely.

The high altitude means lots of sunshine and heat during the day and nice cool evenings that allow the grapes to rest. Thus ripening at a slower rate, the grapes at this altitude are harvested a few weeks later than those in Mendoza.  I ask Marcos about the high levels of alcohol I’ve noticed on almost all of the Saltean wines I’ve tasted. His response is simple.  In the higher altitude, the sugars ripen faster than the tannins, so by the time the tannins are correctly ripe, the grapes have a higher sugar level than those from Mendoza, where the sugars and the tannins ripen at a more equal rate.  These sugars get turned into alcohol, but because of the structure of the grape and the ripeness of the tannins, the wines never seem to come off as hot or overly alcoholic.

I also have to ask about Michel Rolland, the big name whose signature graces their high-end bottle, Yacochuya.  Rolland comes around about twice a year to Cafayate, he loves the soil, the terroir, and knows the region very well.  And they meet him again one a year in Mendoza. But what exactly does he do? During the harvest, he shows up with what I imagine must be a small entourage- his own people- his own winemakers, to asses the progress of maturation, to oversee the harvest and determine which grapes go where. He then returns a second time in Mendoza, where they bring the aged wines to him, and he decides the blends.  Rolland is partner in the business, which means that he receives a portion of the profits of the winery.  What a job.  Marcos’ reds stay a minimum of one year in French oak, most of them ageing one and a half to two years in barrel.

I ask about pests in the vineyard, noticing the net-free vines. Ants are Marcos’ biggest problem. Birds, bees, rabbits, and foxes are also listed as minor annoyances, but the amount that they consume is too small to be a serious problem.  Herbicides and pesticides are used in the vineyards, and this winemaker has strong ideas about the theory of organics. He says, we ingest more chemicals and preservatives in our food these days more than in the 1950’s but people now are living twenty years longer.  He doesn’t see the point. He points out how much more difficult and expensive it is to run a biodynamic vineyard when I bring up Colome. Yes, but Donald Hess has ample funds, we both acknowledge.  With Rolland on the bottle and behind the wine, and knowing that the Etchart family is quite important in the area, I’m sure Marcos also has ample funds, but surely won’t be planting cow horns anytime soon.  The cost and risk of a biodynamic venture does not appeal to him.

Marcos takes us on a brief tour of the facility- brief because it’s really not all that large. One warehouse sits adjacent to the tasting room with about eight stainless-steel tanks and a bunch of stacks of bottles.  A new building is being built behind the first, he explains, for added storage. All in all, the production is quite small. A couple of workers wield giant hoses, flushing out pumps and barrels.

I somewhat timidly inquire about the subject of tasting, and Marcos nods quickly- yes, yes, of course we are going to taste. He disappears into a back room. Expecting him to return with a few of their more entry-level bottles, I am very pleased when he returns with a glass and wine thief. We are going to taste from the barrels. Lovely! We start with the 2010 Malbec that has been in barrel for only six months. The wine is already quite impressive: well-rounded with juicy fruit but plenty of spice and firm acid.  The oak is noticeable, without being distracting, lending body and sweet vanilla notes. Then we are onto the 2010 Cabernet, also six months in barrel. Fantastic. Full of green and red pepper spices, the signature of Cabernet from the region. Next we taste the 2009 Malbec and then Cabernet. With an extra year of oak, the wines are still impressively well-integrated. Aromas of cherry, violet, and baking spices characterize the malbec, while the cabernet offers more vegetal characteristics, pepper spices, dark chewy fruit, and surprisingly smooth tannins.  We finish tasting with the 2010 Torrontes- still in tank. It’s fresh and lively, with citrus, pear, and white stone minerality, though showing less well slightly warm from the tank.  Marcos points out that the wine is much better if enjoyed a few degrees cooler. I agree. Then he casually dumps the remainder of the glass into a random nearby barrel. Um… torrontes in the barrel? He doesn’t understand why I would be confused by this.  Did you just dump that glass of torrontes into that barrel of red wine?  I ask. Sure, he replies. It’s just a tiny amount compared to the amount in the barrel; it’s never going to make a difference. Marcos continues to explain that adding significant portions of torrontes to malbec used to be a fairly standard practice in the region, to enhance aromatics- a vice of lazy wine-makers, he says.  It reminds me of the viognier-syrah blends of Southern France. This comparison makes him giggle.

All of the sudden we notice the workday is over. The lights are out, and the workers are grabbing backpacks and heading for the truck. We thank our host profusely, snap a few more photos, and hitch a ride in the back of the employee truck back into town.  On the route home, the sun comes out again, highlighting the vineyards, they appear an impossibly brilliant color. The Calchaqui Valley is briefly washed with golden, end-of-day light, enormous in size and beauty. Below us, the town of Cafayate waits, quiet, and welcoming.