By Dereck Foster
For the Herald

It was a bold vision, indeed, that induced a small group of wine enthusiasts to invest time and money in founding a winery in the midst of the bleak and dreary desert of La Pampa province. There, alongside the Rio Colorado, in a small town that goes by the name of 25 de Mayo, Bodega del Desierto was created and right from the start seemed to be blessed with a magic touch.

Anybody with a basic knowledge of local wines and wine production, knows that Mendoza province, along with San Juan, who between them produce just over 90% of our total production are, technically, deserts. However, centuries of intelligent irrigation and hard work have converted a good part of this area into what appears to be, to the casual visitor, a veritable Garden of Eden, with its luxurious vegetation of vines, olives, fruit trees, flowers and wild greenery — the early asparagus that sprout alongside the myriad irrigation channels  should be tried to be believed — banishing from ones mind the grim reality inherent in real or semi-real desert conditions.

Without an imposing backdrop of snowy mountains and a network of flowing irrigation channels, La Pampa is the very opposite of what Mendoza (and to a lesser degree San Juan) is within our ever expanding wine regions. But these conditions did not dismay a small and hardy group of enthusiasts who were convinced that in spite of apparent conditions, the basic structure of the geography and climate of 25 de Mayo was conducive to wine making. They were not the first. Previously a small — and unsuccessful — winery had functioned there, so certain conditions were known and drawbacks understood. Restructuring the winery was undertaken in a modern and technological manner, including the obtention of the services of Paul Hobbs, a US winemaker, already familiar with local wines and their making, and known in the Napa Valley of California as Mr. Chardonnay.

I cannot recall exactly when I was awoken at some ghastly post-midnight hour by my friend Harry who was insisting that I get  together with him at the earliest possible moment — breakfast was ruled out, thank God — to try what he insisted was one of the best and most original local wines he had ever had the privilege of drinking.

As is usually the case, Harry was right.  The Cabernet Franc (a novelty in Argentina) was a superb, smooth, caressing wine that was quite unlike any wine either he or I could recall having tasted out of our local wineries. It was, I think, a 2002 or 2003 vintage wine, although the bottle we tasted was probably a year or so older after bottle ageing. It was the first wine that Bodegas del Desierto launched, and it was a true winner. Not so much with the public, who were unfamiliar with the grape, but as proof that the desert of La Pampa was able to produce more than scrub and tumbleweed. Less than 10 years after entering the fray, Bodega del Desierto has managed to insert itself not only as a leading Argentine brand, but also is making itself known abroad.

The other day, I was fortunate to receive a sample of each of their new line of wines — new by name rather than character and style —which are now known as vinos Desierto Pampa. There are six at present: Malbec, Cabernet Franc, Syrah, Pinot Noir, Viognier Cosecha Tardia  and a Blend (47% Cabernet Sauvignon, 17% Merlot and 16% Cabernet Franc). This is quite a load for an enterprise functioning in the middle of nowhere and still short of its 10th birthday. However, results are showing that the  labours of winemaker Sebastián Cavagnaro, aided by Paul Hobb’s consultancy are showing fruit. And what fruit! The Blend and the Syrah were both awarded gold medals at the 2009 Concourse Mondial Bruxelles  held recently in (naturally), Brussels.

Of the whole bunch of wines all I can say is that each, in its way, is as good as the others. My personal preference still clings to the Cabernet Franc, in spite of its high dosage of oak and its even higher content of alcohol (15%). But right alongside I place the Blend, with just a wee less alcohol (14.6%) and its equally high content of wood, providing a warm, fruity and velvety drink that is hard to put down.
I have also just met and tried a new entry from the Nieto Senetiner winery — a late harvest blend of Sauvignon Blanc, Torrontés and Chardonnay that goes by the name of Benjamíin. Late harvest wines are generally the product of one single grape varietal. To meet a three varietal blend is an interesting experience, and a very pleasant one as well, as this wine is sweet without overstepping the mark, offering a refreshing acid base that should make it a pleasant addition to summer drinking (when summer finally arrives). As far as I know, this is a unique wine on our shelves, although somebody is sure to imitate it sooner or later.