Viva Las Vega-Sicilia, Viva

Like Simba’s tomato sauce-flavoured chips, fresh abalone, Iron Brew and red Vienna sausages, the taste of wine made from the Tempranillo grape still sticks to me, conjuring memories of an ill-spent – yet well-fed – youth. Anyone back-packing through Europe in his or her late teens during the 1980’s and finding yourself holed down in Spain, will attest to consuming Spanish Tempranillo – mainly from Rioja – by the bucket-load. It was plentiful, ubiquitous and available in cheap flagons. A burst of berries, that wanted comforting alcoholic hit and then a plush finish, the result of Rioja makers’ love of using American oak.

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