Last year, after I attended Barcelona Wine Week, I declared Spain to be the world’s most exciting country for wine. Having just attended the 2025 edition of Spain’s top wine fair, my opinion hasn’t changed.

Over three days last week, more than 25,000 wine professionals and nearly 1,300 wineries from all around Spain filled the Fira de Barcelona exhibition hall. It was slightly overwhelming: I tasted hundreds of wines during the event. Yet after a few days processing things, I’m doubling down on the notion that Spain currently has the world’s most vibrant and dynamic wine scene. 

Some of my takeaways:

There’s Always a New Variety to Discover, but Don’t Count Out the Standards

As someone who wrote a book about obscure grape varieties, you’d think I would have tasted it all by now. But one thing I love about Spain is the endless amount of indigenous grape varieties that one encounters. On a regular basis, some young winemaker is reviving a forgotten grape from a century-old vineyard. I’m always tasting something that’s new to me. 

This year’s Barcelona Wine Week did not disappoint. How many of us have tasted the red grape Rufete, from Malahierba in the mountainous Sierra de Salamanca region in western Castilla y Leon? How about red Moristel from Bodegas Fábregas, in high-elevation Somontano? Or Mandó from Valencia from Celler del Roure? How about red Derechero de Muniesa from Jorge Temprado in Calatayud? And how about Esperó de Gall from the island of Majorca, from numerous up-and-coming producers?

Still, let’s also not overlook the well-known Spanish grapes getting a makeover. A good example is Verdejo, the workhorse grape of Rueda, the land of cheap and simple whites. I had an absolutely mind-altering tasting with Barco del Corneta, which is based in Rueda, but chooses not to bottle inside the appellation.

“We must remember that Verdejo is a local grape,” said Félix Crespo Álvarez, winemaker at Barco del Corneta. “Think of it like Sauvignon Blanc—but it’s not. It’s local. Verdejo has great potential and is a great grape, but it’s been in bad hands.” Their Verdejo from 100-year-old vines was one of the delightful surprises of the week. 

Don’t Sleep on Majorca

At last year’s Barcelona Wine Week, I dipped my toe into the island wines of Majorca, tasting the native red grapes Callet and Mantonegro and the white grape Prensal from wineries such as Can Majoral and Celler Mesquida Mora. This year, the Majorcan contingent seemed even bigger.

Two standouts for me were 4 Kilos and Soca-Rel. Tasting Soca-Rel winemaker Pep Rodríguez’s single-varietal wine from the totally obscure Escursac native was a revelation in its vibrancy and crunchiness, and was one of the most memorable wines of the week. Meanwhile, natural-wine star Francese Grimalt’s 4 Kilos wines drew big crowds at the tasting table, and delivered on the hype.

Getting Higher and Higher

Two of my favorite discoveries of Barcelona Wine Week exemplified one of key Spanish wine trend: the move toward higher-elevation vineyards. We see it already in Rioja, Prioriat, and elsewhere. Three memorable producers that I tasted showed how widespread the impulse is to work with higher-altitude vineyards in the torrid Spanish climate.

As I mentioned above, Malahierba in Sierra de Salamanca produces beautiful Rufete, from 65- to 120-year-old vineyards at over 3,000 feet elevation. You might confuse Rufete, a juicy, light-bodied red with a savory backbone, with Gamay, or even Pinot Noir.

I had never tasted Moristel until I met with young winemaker Gonzalo Alcade Fabregas of Bodegas Fabregas. I don’t know what Moristel is supposed to taste like, but from 80-year-old vines grown at nearly 2,000 feet elevation, it’s savory like Loire Cabernet Franc . “We used to work a lot with French varieties,” Fabregas told me, “but since I took over, we’re working with local varieties.”

Bierzo wines, from the Mencia grape, have become relatively popular in the U.S. What’s lesser known is the higher altitude subregion Bierzo Alto. Germán Blanco’s delicate, mountain blends of Mencia, Alicante Bouchet, and Palomino from Bierzo Alto grown at around 3,000 feet elevation, were a revelation.

The Rise of Garnacha Blanca

Garnacha (aka Grenache)—the red one—has always been one of Spain’s most important and widespread grapes. But now you’re seeing more and more of the white one, Garnacha Blanca (aka Grenache Blanc) planted. Terra Alta, in southern Catalonia, already is home to a third of all Grenache Blanc in the world. But it’s also being planted in places like Rioja, Navarra, Aragon, and elsewhere.

Why? Well, two reasons. First is the growing worldwide demand for white wines. The second reason is climate change. Garnacha Blanc is widely seen as a grape that’s well-suited to drought and heat of the Iberian peninsula. “Garnacha Blanca is one of the most intelligent grapes,” says top Spanish sommelier Ferran Centelles, “it’s wise, mature, and shows itself little by little.

At Barcelona Wine Week, I went to a fascinating tasting of Garnacha Blanca from top producers in Terra Alta, including Celler Frisach, Herència Altés, Edetaria, and Bàrbara Forés. The standouts for me were Herència Altés’ 2021 La Serra Blanc—aged in a mix of concrete, amphora, and Austrian foudres—and Frisach’s 2022 Vernatxa, which sees one week of skin contact and is aged in concrete and large barrels.

Corpinnat Is Redefining Spanish Sparkling Wine

For most wine lovers, Cava is synonymous with Spanish sparkling wine. And mostly, they know Cava as a cheap-and-easy alternative to Champagne or other prestige sparkling wines. That middling reputation is why more than a dozen of the best producers in Penedès, Catalonia broke away from the Cava appellation and now bottle their wines under the brand name Corpinnat (roughly meaning “heart of Penedès” in Latin).

The Corpinnat organization hosted a great tasting on the evening before Barcelona Wine Week, with all of its 13 producers pouring their 2024 base wines, as well as a recent release. The quality of sparkling wine in that room was off the charts. Not just from top producers such as Recaredo, Gramona, Nadal, and Llopart, but also from up-and-coming wineries such as Júlia Bernet and Cisteller, as well as wine-geek faves like Celler Pardas and Mas Candí. Some standouts for me included Pardas’ 2017 Els Pagesos made from the red Sumoll grape, Júlia Bernet’s 2018 Barraca dels Coscons, and the 2018 Vinya del Rascarà from Bufadors, a side project of Recardo’s winemaker, Ton Mata.

The rules for Corpinnat are stricter than Cava. Grapes must be organic and picked by hand. All wine must be made at the winery, with no juice bought from outside. If Corpinnat wineries buy grapes, they are obligated to pay a higher, premium price to growers. Aging rules are also stricter: All Corpinnat wines must spend at least 18 months on the lees (meaning all wines qualify as Reserva) and wineries must make at least one wine that ages 30 months or more and another aged 60 months or more on the lees. All that adds up to a mark of quality that continues to improve.

For a while now, I’ve been telling people that “the best Cava is not called Cava anymore.” My tastings of Corpinnat last week put an exclamation point on that statement.