Rubiejo | Tempranillo

Spain's Duero plateau is the highest ground I've measured anywhere. High enough that the vines get properly cold nights right through ripening while the days stay brutal.

That gap is the whole signature — how Ribera holds its grip at a latitude that ought to cook it.

Rubiejo are tiny. Theirs is the shortest back label I've read: "from our fertile land, our hands, years and years of work, from dawn to dusk in the vineyard."