Lately, people have been asking: What’s next in wine? The question comes up on podcasts, at tasting events, and many conversations among the industry’s tastemakers. We’re now two decades into the natural wine movement (which is now in either its goth phase or dumb phase), amid an overall decline in wine consumption. The influence of sommeliers and critics is waning, and there’s uncertainty as to whether young people even want wine at all. So it certainly feels like a good time to ask such a big question.

But “what’s next” is hard to pin down. Some numbers suggest that white wine will supplant red in popularity. Some trendspotters suggest that new movements in places like Bordeaux or Rioja or Chianti will bring those classic regions back to the fore. Others suggest that natural wine will continue its nonstop rise, or that perpetually “up-and-coming” places such as Catalonia, Sicily, South Africa or elsewhere will finally take their place in the spotlight. I heard someone recently argue that big, oaky, 15 percent ABV California reds could come back into fashion. I mean, I guess anything is possible! It feels as though everything is on the table right now.

With the “what’s next?” question looming in my mind, last week I visited a winemaker named Raúl Moreno, who works in the Jerez appellation of southern Spain—the region famous for sherry. Moreno farms slightly less than four hectares of organic vineyards, and manages another 22 hectares owned by Diatomists Wines, with whom he shares a winery in a renovated 12th century estate.

Even though he is in Jerez, Moreno does not make traditional Sherry under his own label. (He does for others’ labels.) But recent rule changes in Jerez now allow “vino de pasto,” or non-fortified terroir wines, from the region. “The future of Jerez is non-fortified wines. But alternative varieties and field blends are also the future,” Moreno says.

Moreno uses Jerez’s main grape, Palomino, in quite unique ways. For instance, he blends Palomino with the Portuguese grape Arinto (unheard of in Jerez) to make Destellos, a foot-crushed, skin-contact wine aged in chestnut sherry barrels. He also blends Palomino with Syrah (even more unheard of) to create La Femme d’Argent, a type of blended rosé that the Spanish call clarete—which is then aged under a veil of flor, similar to a fino sherry.

But those are perhaps Moreno’s most mainstream bottlings. La Esencia, his field blend, is a mix of Palomino, Pedro Ximénez, and Arinto, along with the red Andalucian grape Tintilla and the Portuguese red grape Baga. It’s fermented whole cluster and then aged in 1000-liter amphorae. It presents as a red wine, and drinks like a white wine. He also adds Palomino to a red blend called Dark N’ Stormy, that’s 85 percent Tintilla. “I like making red wines that have a white wine character,” Moreno says with a shrug. “I think Palomino brings energy to a red wine.”

His aromatic La Pretensión is made with 100 percent Muscat de Alexandria, which is then aged in used Cognac barrels—which drinks like an Alsatian white. In La Retahila, he’s resurrected the obscure local grape Perruno (which means “dirty dog”) to make another wine aged under flor, like sherry.

Then there is the Chardonnay and Pinot Noir. Yes, Moreno grows Pinot Noir in the hot south of Spain, very good Pinot Noir. His La Quimera bottling is dense, savory and Burgundy-like. His blend of Pinot Noir and Syrah, La Inflexión, made with 80 percent whole clusters, is fresh and juicy. Both are under 13 percent ABV. “People are always surprised to think red wines like these could be made here in Jerez, but why not?” Moreno says.

This year, Moreno began his harvest with the Pinot Noir and Chardonnay on July 3—again, unheard of in Jerez to harvest so early. “Do people think I’m crazy? Yes, of course,” he says. But with Pinot Noir and Chardonnay both being early ripening varieties, there’s a method to his madness: “With climate change, I had been thinking that late-ripening varieties are the future, but now I’m thinking early ripening varieties are the future.”

Moreno went to university in Australia, which back then he considered freer thinking and more experimental than more conservative enology schools in Spain. “They wanted us to be creative and take risks,” he said. “I remember one guy, for an assignment, took Sauvignon Blanc and infused it with kiwi fruit. And he got good marks! That always left an impression on me.”

After school, Moreno worked for large, industrial wineries as well as small, organic ones. He’s lived half his adult life in Australia and South Africa, only returning to Spain in 2021 to start his own project. He’s someone who’s seen everything in wine—industrial and natural, Old World and New World, conventional and organic, heavy intervention and minimal intervention. He’s a winemaker who knows all the tricks. One highly regarded natural winemaker recently told me, “Raúl is playing chess while we are all playing checkers.” When I post photos of Moreno or his wines on Instagram, other winemakers and sommeliers in Spain regularly comment “Maestro!”

As we tasted through all of his 2024 wines from the barrels (yes, 2024—he finished his harvest weeks ago and the wines are fermented already) it dawned on me that the best way to describe Moreno is “post-natty.” He’s certainly using the winemaking techniques of the natural winemaker (skin contact, amphora, foot crushing, whole cluster, organic farming, obscure varieties, etc.). But he’s also committed to oak aging, the classic international grape varieties, and to Jerez’s ancient biological aging under flor. He’s not afraid to try aging in Cognac barrels or trying to make a Burgundy-esque Pinot in the south of Spain.

It all makes me think that Moreno’s approach, one where all options are on the table, is the best answer I’ve heard yet to the question of “what’s next?”