High-Precision Artisans.
March. Proclaimed the month of women, with its celebration on the 8th. I like to think that every month is March for THEM. In March, we bury the winter and welcome the spring. Spring represents change, marked by THEM through projects born from passion, courage, love for the land, family, and life.
On 8 March, together with Yolanda Campos, “chefa” of La Cabezuela cheeses, we organised a tasting to present and celebrate the work of several masters of fermentation: in wine; Bea Herranz (from Barco del Corneta), Esmeralda García (from Arenas de Santyuste), Bárbara Requejo (from Las Pedreras); in cheese, Rita García (from Cortes del Muar), Chelo López (from Quintián), Soraya Bosch (from Binigarba), Olivia Piña (from Villaluenga), the sisters (from Ruperto), Paqui Cruz (from Dehesa de los Llanos); and in bread, Nuria Escarpa (from 3letras PAN), for the absolute delight of our attendees.
The Master Winemakers and Viticulturists
Beatriz Herranz
Beatriz Herranz at el Paraje del Infierno, La Seca.
Beatriz Herranz presents Barco del Corneta 2023 (Verdejo) for the ELLAS tasting.
Oenologist, but first and foremost a viticulturist. From La Seca, Rueda (Barco del Corneta – 5 ha). What she loved was the countryside, and from the beginning, she knew she wanted to work organically. Sixteen years ago, there were no organic vineyards in her area. Like many in the region, she was linked to the vineyard and inherited a plot of land stripped of vines from her grandmother in 2008. And she planted.
In 2010, she moved to Cebreros with a project to recover old vines and native varieties, based on a plan conceived with great soul, which she wanted to bring back to her homeland. And there, almost by chance, in the third year of her vineyard, she harvested 500 kg and fermented them in a barrel. The result was a success. A trial and an achievement. At that time, the market was saturated with homogeneous Verdejos, and there was much to explore. She opted for low yields of 5000 kg/ha to maintain the balance of her vines. She strengthens them with a living soil, providing tools to sustain its vitality.
Beatriz says: “It’s not the same to eat well and be healthy as it is to rely on vitamin supplements.” This is her philosophy of life. “Once you see the results, you can’t go back.” She also works with native yeasts, allowing her wines to settle naturally in barrels or tanks. Vineyard and winery work require extensive observation and, above all, time. It is an artisanal way of running her project within a sea of large wineries in Rueda. Later, she searched for and found old vines planted on their own roots, over 100 years old, in deep sandy soils with a layer of gypsum beneath. Lands ideal for finer, more elongated wines, with the added effect of the gypsum, providing moisture retention similar to albariza soil.
Verdejo and Palomino vines give birth to her trilogy of wines, “Paraje del Infierno”, named after the Viura vineyard of El Judas, where it was once said that nothing would grow: La Sillería, El Judas, and Las Envidias. I tasted La Sillería, with extraordinary finesse, and Las Envidias, a biologically aged wine in a cask, delicate and complex. El Judas was not possible; last year, the harvest was lost to frost. She does not buy grapes when things go wrong in the field. Philosophy: to make wine exclusively from her vineyards. She is faithful to her land, respectful of its past and present, and has an admirable goal: to ensure a long future for her vines.
Bárbara Requejo
Bárbara Requejo, in Villanueva de Ávila.
Bárbara Requejo brings Linarejos 2023, a blend of Albillo Real and Manzanilla.
Oenologist and viticulturist from Las Pedreras (5 ha), in the Alto Alberche region, Ávila. She did not come from a family of winemakers, but her uncle passed on his passion and profession: oenology. After completing her studies in Valladolid, her hometown, she spent four years working as a trainee oenologist, travelling between the northern and southern hemispheres, gaining experience in prestigious wineries in France, Chile, California, and New Zealand. Returning home, she wanted to take control—to make the decisions, moving from labourer to leader. At just 24, she became the technical director of the Gredos Soto Manrique cooperative, learning alongside veteran viticulturists.
In 2019, while dining with clients at a restaurant called La Querencia in Villanueva de Ávila, she fell in love—with Guzmán, the chef, and with the Alto Alberche region. His family owned vineyards, though in that area, vines are scarce—or rather, hidden. They are extremely old (a vineyard considered young in the region is 60 years old), and he made wine for the restaurant. The pandemic brought unexpected projects to those who adapted. In 2020, with the restaurant closed, they dedicated themselves to the vineyards, launching Las Pedreras, the first winery in Villanueva. Their vineyards are their hallmark, employing dry farming techniques and bush-trained vines on poor granite soils.
Bárbara explains how she had to leave behind some of her prior knowledge and instead observe the vineyard, adapting to its conditions rather than imposing her methods. Alongside tending to their old vines, they embarked on a shared challenge: investing all their savings to purchase vineyards and land to plant a massal selection in an area where no one had planted before—at an altitude of 1,230 metres. Once again, observation was key: “Nature is more persistent and powerful than you are.”
She plants with the future in mind, wanting to leave a legacy while also being part of it. Her Vertiente de las Ánimas vineyard is a spectacle—160-year-old Garnacha vines. One can perceive what they have achieved: harmony between soil, vegetation, and vine—a landscape balance reflected in their wines. From precision in the vineyard comes healthy grapes.
She says: “In conventional viticulture, you apply treatments and go home; in organic farming, you never fix a problem—you prevent it. Then, in the winery, when making artisan wine with spontaneous fermentations, you have less room for relaxation. You are in constant observation: how the cap smells, how the must develops—you cannot ferment at low temperatures…”
She affirms that she has closed a cycle, from the slate soils of Gredos to the granite of Alto Alberche. For her, part of rural craftsmanship is preserving, caring for, and supporting the continuation of native grape varieties, such as Albillo, crafting a wine in the Linarejos region of Gredos. She also makes wine in Roa, her hometown, and once again, fate was on her side. Her mother inherited old bush-trained Tempranillo vines, and the wine is called La Coronela, in memory of her grandmother, who was known by that name.
Without a doubt, craftsmanship gains strength through projects deeply rooted in tradition, heritage, respect for nature, and an understanding of the alchemy of winemaking—resulting in honest and elegant wines.
Esmeralda García
Esmeralda García in Santiuste.
Esmeralda García showcases Arenas de Santyuste 2023 (Verdejo)
Oenologist and viticulturist from Arenas de Santyuste, Segovia (6 ha). She was originally set to become a clinical microbiologist but started working in an oenology laboratory in her hometown, Santiuste. She trained in wine with a master’s degree in oenology and another in food safety. She loves the countryside and spent nine years working in a local winery.
2011 was a turning point in her life. She made a sudden decision to leave her job and return to her homeland. The magic of fermentation felt limited—her superiors suppressed her initiative. She reclaimed her grandfather’s vineyards and began a project in Medina del Campo. She was the first person in the area to produce wines using indigenous yeasts.
In 2012, she won the Nariz de Oro award, which gave her the confidence to travel and explore the wine world—visiting Jura, Bordeaux, Galicia, and Priorat, expanding her perspective. Upon returning to her village, she realised the treasure she had: pre-phylloxera vineyards between 160 and 210 years old. Many vineyards in the area had been uprooted, but the best were preserved for making local wine.
Coming from a working-class background—her grandfather Boni worked for landowners, her father was a truck mechanic—being a woman also made it difficult to rent or acquire vineyards. She continued consulting for wineries but remained focused on her romantic yet financially limited goal: making a village wine, from her own village.
At first, the vines rebelled against her. The first two years were rough, with overripe grapes she struggled to control. “When you stop shouting, your wines will stop shouting,” her distributor told her, someone who believed in her. That’s when she started paying attention to how locals tended their vines. She travelled less, realising she needed to understand why her vineyards resisted her approach.
“I began to humanise the plants and agriculture—to stop thinking about them in terms of economic yield, but rather in terms of logical care and gratitude for what they offer.” For her, guiding old vines is a privilege, and achieving balance is essential. She is passionate about precision in her environment and what it means to produce wine from her village. “Being a vigneron requires a great deal of contemplation, often misunderstood as laziness.”
The vineyards entrusted to her will, in turn, have to be passed on, and it is her responsibility to care for them. When she started to “humanise” the cultivation process, everything began to work in harmony. Her village wine comes from four plots, four landscapes, using the same grape variety and the same winemaking process, yet each plot expresses itself differently. Vallejo has coarse sand and some pebbles—very rustic soils that turn rock-hard in summer without rain. Carrascal is all pebbles, giving wines of sun and fire, as she describes it. Fuentecilla has a high water table and tertiary-era sand (before the tectonic collision of plates, when the Tethys Sea covered the area). Lastly, Las Miñañas is the vineyard of her life, blending the power of Carrascal with the influence of Fuentecilla.
In the Las Miñañas plot, people once tried to burn the vines with diesel, but some survived. Her winery is in Bernuy de Coca, a tiny settlement in Santiuste. It has only six inhabitants, and she is one of them. The winery is just 100 m², and she ages her wines in clay amphorae, where the flor yeast grows in winter and dies in summer. I tasted her wines and experienced their flor—something I had never encountered before. She describes her wines as austere, like their landscapes and the Verdejo grape itself.
She does not align with any particular “club,” such as the natural wine movement. She does not like defects in wine and does not justify them. “Are my wines natural just because I don’t add things? It has more to do with craftsmanship than a predefined process.” In the end, craftsmanship is about time, good ingredients, and a touch of magic—that unexplainable je ne sais quoi that stirs emotions on your palate, and her wines certainly have it.
The Master Cheesemakers
Yolanda Campos
Yolanda & Juan Luis from Quesos La Cabezuela.
Yolanda Campos curates the cheeses: Mimosa from Quesería Cortes de Muar, Néboa from Ganadería Quintián, Mahón from Quesería Binigarba, Queso Payoyo from Quesería de Villaluenga, Corteza Lavada from Quesería Ruperto, Gran Reserva from Dehesa de los Llanos, and Gamoneu from Quesería Priedamu.
From Quesos La Cabezuela, she is not only the co-owner of her cheese factory but also a great ambassador of other artisan projects with which she collaborates in distribution, and which we included in the 8 March tasting. She is also an international judge, along with her husband Juan Luis, in cheese competitions. Together, they took over the second-oldest cheese factory in the Community of Madrid, located in Fresnedillas de la Oliva. They revived the recipe for the cheese known as Tradicional, the only traditional cheese from the area made with milk from Guadarrama goats. This goat breed is large, produces little milk, but it is rich in fat.
Not bound by a Designation of Origin, they have travelled across Spain and abroad to adapt new recipes to their cheese factory. Initially, they had only two cheeses; now, they offer 15 varieties thanks to their 900+ goats, which are fed on forage. The livestock is raised extensively, as there is not enough pasture all year round, and in summer, their diet is supplemented with organic feed.
They create their own ferments, setting them apart from other cheesemakers who purchase them from laboratories. Fermentation is highly sensitive, especially in Madrid’s continental climate. Despite cheese being made from milk, rennet, ferments, and salt, it requires meticulous precision.
Master Baker
Nuria Escarpa
Nuria Escarpa, in 3letras PAN
Nuria Escarpa provides the breads: raisin and walnut bread, quelitas, regañás, rye loaf, wheat baguette, and wheat and flaxseed baguette.
Nuria is the head baker at 3letras PAN in Madrid. A psychology graduate, she does not come from a family of bakers. She began baking bread at home in 2005, which led her to an extensive career in international projects supporting female entrepreneurs in Venezuela, Peru, Colombia, and Ecuador—many of them linked to gastronomy. She was the head of cooperation at the Madrid Business Confederation. After several entrepreneurial projects, including a Brazilian bakery in 2020, which did not succeed due to the pandemic, she rose again and took charge of 3letras PAN.
3letras is a symbol of identity, representing the three primary ingredients: flour, water, and salt. It is a project where she merges all her knowledge, experience, and passion for fermentation. She has turned 3letras PAN into a social space for women in baking, employing only women—some of whom are migrants or in vulnerable situations. It is her way of contributing her “grain of flour.”
For her, baking is a way to communicate with the world through her sourdough creations, using organic ingredients. It is an artisanal craft that allows her to continue travelling and learning. She recently returned from baking in Thailand. In her bakery, she hosts “bread pairings” (PANidajes) from her “bread pantry” (desPANsa), where enthusiasm + passion = fermentation. Nuria is undoubtedly a PANtastic woman.
We must applaud small-scale work more than ever, for what it represents: a great wave of artists rather than mere artisans, women and men who bring us closer to the deepest roots of our culture, giving them new life. Today, craftsmanship is also innovation, and therefore, evolution and creation
