From left: Daniel Landi and Fernando García with a
Garnacha vine in the Rumbo al Norte vineyard in the Sierra de Gredos mountains.
The things you love are the things you invest time in.’ That’s the motto Daniel Gómez Jiménez-Landi and Fernando García have lived by and largely explains the evolution and success of Comando G, the project they founded in 2008.
The project’s name is loaded with meaning: G stands for Garnacha, Gredos and granite, the region’s terroir- and visually defining rock; it’s also a nod to the Spanish-language version of a 1970s cartoon, Battle of the Planets, in which a team of stylishly caped heroes called G-Force (‘Comando G’) protect the Earth from alien threats.
Meaning is indeed key to understanding Comando G. There’s a programmatic, almost ideological component to the project. Landi and García’s motivations are deeply rooted in the socio-economic phenomena that led to the abandonment of old vineyards in Gredos and the lack of appreciation for the local grape and wines. Their shared accomplishment is – more than a steady output of some of Europe’s finest Garnachas – the new light shed on the uniqueness of a region and of a lost viticultural heritage.
Gaining perspective
Having grown up in a village in the Méntrida DO region, surrounded by vines, Landi describes how ‘everyone was ashamed of Garnacha’. Growers, he says, were paid ‘close to nothing’ for the fruit, all of which was sold to the cooperatives: ‘None of the wines were bottled; they were sold bulk. This was unsustainable and most people were simply forced to sell the vines in the 1970s. If you’re made to feel like a loser, how are you supposed to trust your local varieties, your traditions, your terroir?’
García and Landi met in 2005 while studying oenology and viticulture at Universidad Politécnica de Madrid. ‘We first bonded over music, shared passions,’ they both recall as we’re speaking in early September when harvest is looming, keeping García in the vineyards during most of the conversation. ‘We ended most days, after studying, opening bottles, listening to music, talking all night. And then we travelled through Europe in a van.’ This discovery road trip transformed the way the pair interpreted their own country and region.
‘While travelling, and in Burgundy especially, we discovered an immense respect for all the meaning wine can have – wine as bottled landscape,’ Landi continues. ‘And that’s when we understood that we had to go back to that Garnacha from the mountains, those old forgotten vines.’
They saw the potential not only for an underestimated grape variety but also for a forgotten terroir, prey to the curse of España vacía (‘empty Spain’). ‘We felt almost an obligation to return to our roots and nurture the affection for our background, traditions and landscape. A reaction against that loss of confidence and appreciation we were raised with.’
Ploughing in the Pelito Lindo vineyard, Navahondilla. Credit Salvador Arellano
Clear vision
The pair were pragmatic when the project started, keeping it as a side gig – that drained rather than generated income – while remaining focused on other projects. Landi shared the management of his Méntrida-based family winery, Bodegas Jiménez-Landi – itself founded following the recovery of abandoned family vineyards – with his cousin; García oversaw winemaking at Bodega Marañones in Pelayos de la Presa, 15km northeast. That period of trepidation, improvisation and financial recklessness proved formative, allowing them to deepen their knowledge of Garnacha and of the Gredos terroir, and to fine-tune their shared philosophy. ‘We spent most afternoons driving around, looking for old vineyards,’ says Landi. ‘This at a time when there was little if any understanding of the [region’s] different villages and valleys. But when we came back, we had a clear vision that this was the way we had to approach our…
Source : https://www.decanter.com.master.public.keystone-prod-eks-euw1.futureplc.engineering/wine/comando-g-the-craft-of-garnacha-543851/
