2015 Mauricio Lorca Poetico Malbec Uco Valley Mendoza Argentina 750 ml

Ask an Argentinian wine collector what he thinks of a Robert Parker score for any given Malbec, and you might be met with a blank stare. Ask the same collector if he or she knows the Deschorchados score—the veritable Wine Advocate of Argentina—and eyes will light up. 

This 2015 Mauricio Lorca Poetico Malbec earned 95 points from the highly-praised South American wine journal for two reasons: it’s a value-priced, under-$25 wine that comes from grapes farmed to triple-digit-priced standards, and it’s frighteningly easy to drink. You’ll be alarmed at how quickly a bottle disappears (fair warning).

Working most days under pastel blue skies, at extremely high altitudes in the Uco Valley (up to 3,400 ft. above sea level), winemaker Mauricio Lorca calculates that his overabundance of sunshine, which aids ripening, is balanced by an endless cascade of streaky clouds. Beneath that pristine impressionist canvas, he paints a broad stroke of manicured green-canopies under which densely planted vines compete with one another to eke out tiny yields of even-ripening Malbec grapes—Lorca calculates that each plant delivers roughly one bottle of wine. 

Lorca cut his teeth at Luigi Bosca, an iconic Malbec house. But his own bottlings reveal the makings of a perfectionist winemaker, as evidenced by this 2015 Poetico—an expressive and powerfully aromatic Malbec with notes of black plum, black cherry, bay leaf, and blueberry just lift from the glass when swirled. Rich and energetic on the palate, immediately revealing soft tannins and a bramble-berry core that finishes with sweet oak from aging in French and American barrels, and a touch of purple floral tones. This is meticulously farmed Malbec available at a basement bargain value.

The first time we sipped one of Lorca’s treasures was on a trip to Argentina. The sun was burning through one of those marbled-blue skies, but we were basking in an air-conditioned, dimly-lit tavern nestled in the foothills of the Andes. A deeply tanned farmer, his bolero hat tipped back on his forehead, sat a few chairs down the bar; he had ordered a glass Mauricio Lorca’s Malbec and recommended we do the same.
 
“Some other Malbecs, they’re like electric guitar,” he said, grimacing and pawing at an invisible Stratocaster like Stevie Ray Vaughan. “They’re throwing a lot of noise and volume at you. Mauricio’s wine is more like acoustic. Warm, intimate, natural—it’s what us farmers like to drink.”