2004 or 2005 Txomin Etxaniz
Getariako Txakolina (Gipuzcoa), Spain
When I saw this bottle (in downtown Bellingham, where it seems all things are possible except Bordeaux), I flashed on a conversation about some rare rare white wine from Spain's Basque region. I am not sure about the who or what of it, but it might have been Rahsaan or Joe. Anyway, since the bottle was from Spain but the name sounded like anything but, I bought it. Oh, re the vintage? There's no vintage on my bottle but a smudge where a neck label might have been, and net sources indicate this wine is always vintage-bottled so it would be one of the two most recent, but I have no idea which.
While sipping, I googled it, and learned: that the 85-hectare area of Txakolina is the tiniest growing district in Spain, that Txomin Etxaniz is considered the best producer (at least by one source), and it's lovely smoky palest-pink hue (this is white, not rose) is the result of it being made from 75% white grapes and 25% red, and that the spritz I noted is considered a desirable characteristic. In fact, the locals pour it 1" at a time in order to not have a pour go flat on them.
The two mentions I found about the grapes involved were not in agreement. One site said it was a blend of Hondarrabi Zuri and Munemahatsa. Another agreed on the first grape but called the second (the red, apparently) Hondarribi Beltza. When I explained all this to Bob, he said "I'm sorry, didn't you right. What Beltza?", I answered, "Sansa Beltza." Good thing he didn't have a gun.
Anyway, this is one cool wine: fragrant nose that's mineral, citrus and some sweet white flower, and chalky minerals on the palate with fruity lemon juice up front and a dry orange zest finish. Lots of body, but it's not a heavy wine. Another thing we enjoyed was that it kept changing--every glass seemed a little different from the last. $18 and well worth it.
My wine shopping and I have never had a problem. Just a perpetual race between the bankruptcy court and Hell.--Rogov