By Anthony Rose
Originally published in The Independent (UK)
28 April 2007

When I tasted Miguel Torres's distinctive Chilean superblend of cabernet, carmenère, tempranillo and monastrell, I was intrigued by the name Conde de Superunda (the 2000 vintage is £24.95, Harrods), since the "Count of Tsunami" seems a strange name for a wine. The title was conferred on Manso de Velasco, the Spanish governor of Chile, after his role in recovering ships and rescuing survivors of a tidal wave caused by the great earthquake of 28 October 1746, which wiped out almost all 5,000 inhabitants of Callao. But although honoured by Ferdinand VI with the title of Viceroy of Peru, the 74-year-old Velasco was on his way home to Spain when he lost the siege of Havana to the English, was court-martialled for his pains and dispatched to Granada in disgrace.

A sorry end for an honest man who founded a series of Chilean cities during the 1740s, aiming to make each one no more than a day's horse ride from the next. The Pan-American Highway is not quite so romantic today, but traversing Velasco's bustling provincial cities, you get a sense of how the Spanish imposed order on an otherwise untamed landscape of picturesque river valleys framed by the Andes in the east and the Pacific in the west. Brought over to the southern Itata Valley for sacramental purposes, the vine was part of that culture. It took another century after Velasco for Chile's landed gentry to found the modern wine industry with brands called Santa this, that and the other after the saint names of their wives.

Until recently, Aconcagua, an hour's drive north of Santiago, and Maule, five hours south, represented the north-south limits of the Chilean vinescape. You didn't need to go any further north or south because the vine was very happy, thank you very much, basking in the dry and sunny Andean landscape famously described by Miguel Torres on his arrival in Chile in the late 1970s as a "viticultural paradise". Since the Spanish winemaker put down roots in Chile, however, its young wine industry has galloped ahead.

The mid-1980s discovery of the Casablanca Valley close to Valparaiso showed the potential for crisp, aromatic whites such as the tantalisingly grapefruity 2006 Quintay Sauvignon Blanc, £8.50, Tanners (01743 234500). More recently, the cold San Antonio and Leyda Valleys within sight of the Pacific have released the potential for ultra-crisp and zingy sauvignon, like the 2006 Montes Limited Edition Sauvignon, £7.99, Majestic. Equally exciting are the new fragrant pinot noirs and northern Rhône-style syrahs such as the 2005 Matetic EQ Syrah, £16.99, Majestic, from a biodynamic producer making syrah that's as good as it gets in Chile. Heading north, De Martino has located growers in the relatively unknown Choapa Valley, capable of producing syrahs like the thyme-scented, juicy, peppery 2005 De Martino Legado Syrah Reserva, £7.99, Oddbins.
The newest cool-climate locations for aromatic whites and reds are the traditional pisco-producing valleys of Limarí and Elqui within an hour's drive from the coastal resort of La Serena. Viña Falernia in the Elqui Valley is showing a strong hand with syrah like the fragrantly spicy, elegant 2005 Viña Falernia Syrah, £5.95, Tanners, while the promising Tabalí in Limarí, is coming out with an exciting range of styles such as the peachy and zesty-fresh 2006 Tabalí Viognier, £7.99, virginwines.com. A distance of 1,500km separates Elqui in the north from the far south's Bío-Bío Valley, an up-and-coming region for aromatic styles like the intense, lime-zesty 2006 Cono Sur Riesling Reserve, Bío-Bío, £6.99 Majestic, or buy 2 = £5.99. As Velasco might have said, out with the old wave, in with the new.