First resolution for the new century: learn Spanish. Second resolution: spend more time in Spain. There's a definite feeling in the air that this is the next Happening Place. In the past month or so, I've talked to a food writer so convinced that she's speeding off to buy a farmhouse in the foothills of the Pyrenees (not too far from unbeatably brilliant Barcelona); met the owner of a Spanish wine bar in Mayfair who's been looking at Dublin for his next venture; and seen a pile of Spanish books piled on Darina Allen's kitchen table. Fantas- tico. I've just come back from a wine course in north-east Spain all hispanically fired up.
Every September, the Cava and Penedes Wine Institute runs a week-long study programme for a dozen delegates from Britain and Ireland - wine trade people, mostly, with a few restaurateurs and the occasional wine writer. It's a wise move. Cava, the Spanish bubbly, suffers from an image problem. And, like a lot of Spanish wine regions apart from Rioja, Penedes isn't terribly well known. Presented with a blank map, not too many people could pencil it in, I suspect, as a slightly squashed circle meeting the coast midway between Barcelona and Tarragona. But it's an important spot, because many of the wines it produces appeal hugely to Irish palates. Last year, sales of Penedes wines here jumped by 56 per cent.
There's one key reason: Torres - Penedes' biggest producer by far (indeed, the largest family-owned winery by far in Spain). Even though the Torres name has been a stalwart on the Irish market for what seems like a lifetime, sales have recently rocketed. One theory is that the wines are better than ever - still flavoursome but, at the basic Sangre de Toro level, maybe a little softer than before. Torres is seriously into quality, finding ways to produce better grapes without chemical fertilisers or pesticides. The range is big and growing - something to suit every taste. But its success is possibly part of a wider trend. Spain is one of the countries which wine lovers are embracing when New World Chardonnays and Cabernets begin to pall.
"Spain, maybe - but we are talking about Catalonia and Penedes," says Miguel Torres firmly, over lunch in the magnificent old Catalan farmhouse near Vilafranca, which his company uses for entertaining. The brand new appellation (or DO) of Catalunya into which Penedes falls (along with eight other small DOs, including Concha de Barbera, Costers del Segre and the new star, Priorat) will, it is hoped, mean something to consumers and help to reinforce the lesser-known names. Catalonia's distinctive culture and pride are part of the equation.
The region's individuality is coming through in a re-evaluation of local grape varieties. The climate, soil and topography of Penedes are varied enough to suit grapes of virtually every kind - one good reason why Torres and his neighbour Jean Leon planted Cabernet here back in the 1960s. Other international varieties have since been introduced with flair - Merlot, Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, even Riesling and Pinot Noir. But Spanish grapes such as Garnacha, Tempranillo, Carinena, Monistrell have flourished on lower ground, with Catalan varieties such as Xarel-lo. Currently a major Torres objective is to rescue forgotten Catalan grapes such as Samso and Garro. Every so often, a farmer will ring up with news of some unidentified old vines - and out goes a viticulturalist, twitching to propagate cuttings.
"We must have all the grapes," Miguel Torres says. "That is the way forward for Catalonia." He's undoubtedly right. I loved examples from the internationalist brigade - the Mas Borras Pinot Noir, the Cabernet-dominated Gran Coronas and the swanky 100 per cent Cabernet Mas La Plana - as well as the distinctive Spanish flavours of Gran Sangre de Toro and Torres's striking new blockbuster, Grans Muralles, made from obscure Catalan grapes grown in Conca de Barbera.
At a tasting put on by Penedes producers in Vilafranca's splendid old wine museum, there were also winners from both traditions - one or two good Merlots, some superb Tempranillos, the excellent, Bordeaux-like Gran Caus (see below) . . . but perhaps the most exciting wines combined Cabernet with such grapes as Garnacha, Carinena, Tempranillo or even a dash of Petite Syrah. Albet I Noya is a name to watch (see below) - especially for two red blends, Lignum and Reserva Marti. Not here yet, but they should be soon.
The reds are Penedes's best still wines, but in volume they're completely drowned by cava, the sparkler that has its own bigger appellation. Here again, the three local grape varieties that have always been used are increasingly a source of pride. Although some producers favour a proportion of Chardonnay, the Chardonnay hype of a few years ago seems to have given way to quiet determination to improve the quality of the Macabeo, Xarel-lo and Parellada grapes that grow more easily and cost much less.
I have to say that, in the past, cava and I haven't been the best of friends. I've often found it clumsy or nastily sour. And, even allowing for our Draconian duty on all sparkling wines, it has a habit of costing far more in Ireland than it should. I'm happy to report that a week non-stop tasting has altered my cava judgment. Maybe the excitement of seeing the house of Segura Viudas and its giant brother company Freixenet abuzz with harvest-time activity went to the head. The best cavas from here, along with Codorniu's Cuvee Raventos and the Brut Nature Gran Reserva from both Joan Sarda and Rovellats, are streets ahead of plenty of New World sparklers I've happily downed before. And not all of these rivals are made by the superior "champagne method", as cava is. A few tips to pass on. Don't waste your time comparing cava to champagne: made (usually) from Spanish grapes, it obviously doesn't taste the same, tending to be a little earthier, less refined, more refreshing. Don't keep it too long, though: once released on the market, it should be drunk up fast while it's still bracing. And don't be taken in by terms like "Extra Dry" or "Dry" which indicate a range of 12-35 grams of sugar per litre - scarily sweet. There are, believe it or not, three drier levels - Brut, Extra Brut, and Brut Nature. These are the ones to chase. You could do a lot worse, for a big millennium bash. Get in on the Spain-is-cool trend early, and serve cava with tapas.