Priorat, where the priority is flavor

GRATALLOPS, Spain —

The time to buy vineyard land in Priorat, the locals will tell you, was 10 years ago.

These days this tiny, mountainous, gorgeously desolate wine region, located 75 miles southwest of Barcelona, has become one of the world's cult-wine meccas.

Old-vine garnacha (grenache) and cariñena (carignan) vineyards, abandoned three decades ago, are suddenly immensely valuable. The vertiginous slopes, slippery with chunks of slate and black quartzite, are far too steep for tractors, and must be worked by donkeys. Which, by the way, are in short supply and getting expensive ("You should have bought your donkey 10 years ago," I was told).

Wine collectors and readers of Robert Parker's "Wine Advocate" know Priorat for its ultra-premium superstar wines: René Barbier's Clos Mogador, Alvaro Palacios' L'Ermita and a handful of others. If your experience of Spanish wines never reached past those soft, oaky, $10 Riojas, it may seem incredible that prices for some of these Priorat bottles can reach hundreds of dollars. But more important, you can still find affordable Priorats that do a fine job of introducing you to one of the truly blessed and brilliant wine regions in the world.

Priorat (or Priorato, as it is sometimes written) is both one of the oldest and newest wine producing regions in Spain. One bodega, Scala Dei, traces its winemaking origins back to the 12th century. A Carthusian monastery was founded where a shepherd boy had a vision of a stairway to heaven (Led Zeppelin take note), and the first recorded vines were planted.

Fast-forward to the late 1800s, when the root louse phylloxera wiped out the vineyards of France. Many winemakers set up shop in Priorat, plantings expanded dramatically, and the region briefly prospered. But soon phylloxera found its way here, obliterating all but the highest, steepest vineyards. This was followed by the chaos of the Spanish Civil War and the economic lethargy of the Franco years. When a small group of winemaking pioneers rediscovered the region in the mid-1980s, its current rise to international prominence began.

On a bitter cold, brightly sunny winter day last month, I drove through the bleak landscape, occasionally stopping to take in a head-pruned, old vine vineyard. From a distance, these gnarly, 80-plus-year-old plots oddly resemble a side of ham, geometrically spiked with cloves.

Even more remarkable is the soil, which has no dirt component at all but consists of a mix of schist and slate called Llicorella. The rocks, coupled with the brutal summer heat and bitter winter cold, force the vines to send their roots deep down to find water. The old vines have the deepest roots, hence the most flavorful grapes.

Shaking off its long history, Priorat has reinvented itself in the past two decades. In 2001, it became Spain's second DOC (the other is Rioja), the highest officially designated quality appellation. (Note: In Catalan DOC is translated as DOQ, but it's the same thing). The list of officially sanctioned red wine grapes includes garnacha, cariñena, cabernet sauvignon, merlot, pinot noir, syrah, tempranillo and touriga — surely the most eclectic group of any important wine appellation in Europe.

Priorat white wines are equally diverse and may include any or all of the following: garnacha blanca, macabeo, parellada, Pedro Ximénez, chenin blanc and viognier.

Over 90 percent of the region's wines are red, with the rest evenly divided between white and rosé. Priorat's producers draw from this viticultural smorgasbord and individually determine what grape or grapes to use in each of their wines.

Despite the diversity, there is a well-defined structure and style that unifies and distinguishes these wines. Clearly, it is derived from the character of the land.

The best Priorats are made from north-facing vineyards, planted at higher elevations, some as much as 2,400 feet. Total production is small — roughly 30 bodegas and less than 2,500 acres of vineyard. But it is poised for rapid growth, as some big hitters — Codorniu, Freixenet, Osborne and Torres among them — are now moving in.

My extensive tastings covered most of the wines made there, including new and future releases of such superstars as Clos Mogador, Finca Dofi, L'Ermita and Clos Martinet. I can honestly say that I have never been more impressed by any emerging wine region. Priorat is for real, and its wines deserve all the accolades they have been receiving.

That said, there are always going to be wines that don't measure up to the standard. Wines that are not from the best sites, or have not been given the proper attention throughout the growing season. Priorats should not taste like your standard, high-priced "international"-style wines, with sappy fruit, new oak and not much else. These are true terroir wines and when properly grown and vinified, they are packed with marvelously structured, elegant and powerful flavors.

The best begin with high floral scents, then move into spice, citrus rind, tart but beautifully ripe red fruits, mineral, gravel, hints of earth, leather and sometimes steel. Their natural acids and the use of mostly neutral oak means that they have extraordinary elegance and complexity, and give every indication that they are wines that will reward cellaring.

Paul Gregutt is the author of "Northwest Wines." He can be reached by e-mail

at wine@seattletimes.com.