Microvinyas: ethical vineyards producing wine for the common good
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Version 0 of 1. The idea of making your own wine conjures up images of plastic tubing and vats bubbling away in airing cupboards. There's a bootlegging vibe to it, which has its attractions, particularly after reports at the end of last year that we're facing a "wine shortage", but these don't necessarily include the taste of the end product. However, what if making your own wine conjured up images, instead, of a valley in Southern Europe, snow-topped mountains in the distance, olive and almond groves climbing up the hillsides and an abandoned, 100-year-old vineyard, that you'd bought for less than the price of a used Ford Mondeo? Juan Cascant, the co-owner of a winery called Celler La Muntanya in El Comtat, a northern corner of Alicante, Spain, is sceptical that there is any looming "wine shortage" (and he's far from alone). He is, however, very open to the idea of outsiders buying vineyards in the region. Cascant's business is based on what he calls, in the local Valencian language, microvinyas, 28 small-holdings, each of less than a hectare, which supply the Celler with grapes. In Argentina a winery called Vines of Mendoza run a scheme which encourages wealthy foreigners to buy a small plot of land and, under professional supervision, produce their own label wine. Why couldn't the Celler, he wonders, help, say, a "retired doctor from London" do the same thing in El Comtat? At times Cascant makes winemaking sound implausibly easy. He comes from an architecture background and says that when he and his business partner, Toni Boronat, started out 10 years ago they were just "playing". Armed with secateurs to take cuttings, they visited a friend who had an abandoned vineyard and, a few years later, they had produced wines that were lauded by critics including The Wine Advocate. "Everyone knows how to make wine," he shrugs, "you crush the grapes and then ferment them. When we tried what we'd made after the first year, though, it was pretty good." Good enough, in fact, that it was given an impressive 90 points by Spain's best known guide Peñin (90-94 out of 100 means "outstanding: a wine of superior character and style"). However, it's clearly not quite as simple as he makes it sound. "There was a co-operative that would buy the grapes here in the past," he admits, "without thinking about the quality of the wine or the authenticity. It was as if you have a beautiful jewel you sell by weight." Currently most of the 28 microvinyas sell their grapes directly to the Celler. However, there are already three that, although they're still letting the experts make the wine, plan to market it under their own label. One of these is owned by another local architect, Beatriz Vicent Ripoll. Her family have half a hectare of land, not far from the medieval town of Cocentaina, which, under advice from the Celler, they have planted with monastrell and garnacha tintorera grapes, as well as French import syrah. Visiting her at the vineyard, shortly after the harvest, it's clear that, even if you're not relying on wine to make a living, it can still be a stressful business. She doesn't know how much money they have spent over the past three years but Cascant estimates it's up to €9,000. A chunk of that investment could be lost with one bad summer. "There was a moment this year when the grapes still hadn't ripened," she says, looking out over the bare vines. "You don't know if it's going to start to rain and it can all start to rot. You're thinking: 'All that work and we could lose it!'" Still, Cascant also estimates that, with the 2,500 vines they have planted, the Vicent Ripoll family should be able to sell 3,500 bottles a year. Could they eventually make a profit? "This isn't going to feed us," says Vicent Ripoll. "But it's something more romantic. It's about restoring the value of this land that was abandoned." That's because the microvinyas project is about more than just money. It's partly inspired by the ideas of Austrian economist Christian Felber and his Economy For The Common Good, which argues that no business can be regarded as profitable unless it profits the whole community. To be allowed to use the microvinyas label producers have to sign up to pay workers fairly, use grape varieties appropriate to the region, respect the environment and support the community. The "retired doctor" is not going to get rich quick, then. Particularly as many experts have argued that the so-called "wine shortage" is about as plausible as any other appeal to "buy now, while stocks last". "It might not seem profitable," says Cascant. "But if you think about people who want to own an ethical vineyard, they're searching for another kind of profitability. They want the satisfaction of having their own wine and coming to a beautiful place to enjoy it. It's not sustainable unless you make money, but people buy wine in order to enjoy it. We're just putting enjoyment in there right from the start." |