Let’s be honest: there are wine regions in the world that get all the attention. Bordeaux. Burgundy. Napa. They’ve been written about a thousand times, they have waiting lists for their top bottles, and their names alone are enough to make collectors reach for their credit cards.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And then there’s South America.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
If the Old World is the wine establishment \u2014 formal, prestigious, a little intimidating \u2014 South America is the party happening in the next room. Louder, more colorful, with better food on the table and a genuine sense that something exciting is going on. Argentina, Uruguay and Chile are producing wines <\/strong>that have surprised the world’s most seasoned critics, and they’re doing it in landscapes so dramatic they look like they were designed as a backdrop for a film.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This guide focuses on three grapes that define these three countries: Malbec in Argentina, Tannat in Uruguay and Carmenere in Chile. Each one was, at some point, considered a minor player. Each one found its true home far from where it started. And each one will make you rethink what you know about wine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Malbec is originally from France \u2014 specifically from Cahors, a region in the southwest where it makes wines so dark and tannic they used to call it “black wine.” The grape never really found its footing there. It was difficult in the vineyard, inconsistent in the bottle, and slowly fell out of fashion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then someone brought it to Argentina, planted it at altitude in the Andes foothills, and everything changed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mendoza <\/strong>sits at around 2,500 to 3,300 feet above sea level<\/a>, and in subregions like the Uco Valley, vineyards climb to over 5,000 feet. The altitude means intense sunlight during the day and cold nights \u2014 the kind of thermal variation that lets grapes ripen fully while keeping the natural acidity that makes a wine interesting. The result is a Malbec that’s nothing like its French ancestor: deep purple, plush with dark fruit, with velvety tannins and just enough freshness to keep you pouring another glass.<\/p>\n\n\n\n One of the most common misconceptions about Mendoza is that it’s a single homogeneous place. It isn’t. Maip\u00fa and Luj\u00e1n de Cuyo <\/strong>in the north have older, lower-altitude vineyards that produce the classic, structured style of Malbec \u2014 the kind you expect when you think of Argentine wine. The Uco Valley, further south and higher up, is where the younger generation of winemakers has been pushing the boundaries, making leaner, more mineral, age-worthy Malbecs that feel closer to Burgundy than to anything traditionally Argentine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But Malbec isn’t the only story in Argentina. Bonarda <\/strong>\u2014 the country’s most planted red grape, oddly overlooked for years \u2014 produces wines of great personality: juicy, medium-bodied, with a slightly rustic charm that pairs brilliantly with the local asado. And if you head north to Cafayate in the Salta region, you’ll encounter Torront\u00e9s, a white grape unlike anything else: intensely floral on the nose, dry on the palate, and absolutely at home with spicy food. The vineyards there sit above 5,500 feet, making them among the highest in the world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Visiting these wineries in person is something else entirely. Many of the top estates in Mendoza have been designed with the landscape in mind \u2014 floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the Andes, tasting rooms that feel more like contemporary art galleries than wine cellars. A few of the most iconic names have restaurants attached that are among the best in South America, not just in wine country. Eating a five-course lunch paired with wines from vines you can see out the window, with the snow-capped Andes as the backdrop, is one of those experiences that doesn’t really fit into words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Uruguay is a small country. It often gets overlooked entirely when people talk about South American wine, squeezed between two giants. This is a mistake.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Tannat is another French transplant with a difficult origin story. In its home of Madiran, in the Basque foothills, it produces wines so loaded with tannin that producers traditionally blended in other grapes just to make them approachable. The wine world loved it in theory but found it challenging in practice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Uruguay took Tannat <\/strong>and gave it a different life. The maritime climate \u2014 influenced by both the Atlantic Ocean and the R\u00edo de la Plata \u2014 softens the grape naturally, rounding out those fierce tannins without losing the structure that makes Tannat so compelling. The result is a wine that manages to be both powerful and elegant, with notes of dark cherry, earth, leather, and a long finish that rewards patience.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But here’s what makes Uruguayan wine culture truly distinctive<\/strong><\/a>: it’s not just about one grape. Albari\u00f1o \u2014 better known in Galicia, Spain \u2014 grows beautifully here, producing fresh, saline whites that are perfect for the country’s spectacular seafood. There are also some quietly excellent Merlots, particularly from the Canelones region near Montevideo, that deserve far more international attention than they currently get.<\/p>\n\n\n\n One of the pleasures of wine tourism in Uruguay is that you’re never far from somewhere interesting. Colonia del Sacramento <\/strong>\u2014 a beautifully preserved colonial city on the R\u00edo de la Plata \u2014 sits in the middle of wine country and makes for a natural base. The nearby Carmelo area has a cluster of boutique wineries where you can taste Tannat, Albari\u00f1o, and Merlot without crowds, without formality, and usually with a plate of local cheese nearby.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Canelones<\/strong>, which wraps around the capital, is where most of Uruguay’s wine actually gets made. It’s not the most dramatic landscape \u2014 rolling countryside rather than mountains \u2014 but the density of quality producers is remarkable. Some of the country’s most innovative winemakers are here, experimenting with biodynamic practices and unfamiliar varieties that don’t fit neatly into any category.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then there’s Maldonado <\/strong>and the area around Punta del Este<\/strong>, where wine estates have been opening over the last decade to serve the summer resort crowd. The vibe is different here \u2014 more relaxed, more focused on matching wine with the excellent local fish and seafood \u2014 but the quality is real.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The story of Carmenere in Chile <\/strong>is genuinely one of the great wine detective stories of the 20th century.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Carmenere was one of the original six Bordeaux varieties, widely planted in France before the phylloxera epidemic of the late 1800s wiped out most of Europe’s vineyards. When growers replanted, they mostly chose other varieties. Carmenere effectively disappeared from France.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Except that in Chile, where cuttings had arrived before phylloxera struck, it hadn’t disappeared at all. It had just been mislabeled as Merlot for over a century. Chilean winemakers thought they were growing Merlot<\/a>. They were not. A French ampelographer visiting in 1994 identified the grape for what it really was, and the wine world had to rethink everything it thought it knew about Chilean reds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Today, Carmenere is Chile’s flagship variety, and rightly so. When well made, it’s unlike anything else: deep ruby color, aromas of green pepper, dark plum, smoked meat, and tobacco, with a silky texture and a finish that lingers. It needs proper ripening \u2014 underripe Carmenere retains a vegetal quality that not everyone enjoys \u2014 but in the right hands, it’s extraordinary.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Chile’s geography is extraordinary \u2014 the country is essentially a long thin strip between the Andes and the Pacific, meaning that altitude, ocean influence, and latitude all interact in ways that create very different wine profiles depending on where you are.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Maipo Valley<\/strong>, closest to Santiago, is where Chile’s wine history is centered. This is where the old Bordeaux-style estates built their legacies<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2014 Cabernet Sauvignon country, structured and age-worthy. The Casablanca Valley, cooled by Pacific fog, is where Chile’s best Sauvignon Blanc and Pinot Noir come from. It took until the 1980s for anyone to plant there, given how cold it seemed, but the results have been revelatory.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Colchagua Valley<\/strong>, further south, is warmer and fuller-bodied \u2014 great Carmenere and Syrah territory, with a wine culture that has developed a strong tourism infrastructure over the past two decades. And Los Andes, in the Andean foothills, is where high-altitude Chilean wines are being made, increasingly exciting and worth seeking out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Visiting wineries in South America <\/strong>on your own is possible. It’s also, often, a missed opportunity. The best experiences \u2014 the ones where a winemaker takes you through the barrel room explaining their philosophy, or where you end up tasting a library wine that never made it to export markets, or where lunch somehow turns into a four-hour conversation about terroir \u2014 tend to happen through relationships, not reservations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n That’s the difference between showing up and being taken somewhere. A guide who has spent years building connections with winemakers, who knows which estates are doing genuinely interesting work rather than just marketing well, and who can read what you actually enjoy and adjust the itinerary accordingly \u2014 that changes the whole trip.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The other thing worth considering is combining countries. Argentina and Chile are separated by the Andes, which sounds dramatic but is in practice just a short flight or a spectacular mountain crossing. Uruguay is an easy ferry or flight from Buenos Aires. A trip that moves between all three countries \u2014 following the thread of great wine through very different landscapes and cultures \u2014 is something that stays with you far longer than any single-country visit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There’s also the food. Argentine asado. Uruguayan chivito. Chilean empanadas and fresh ceviche from the coast. Wine tourism in South America <\/strong>is, by necessity, also food tourism, and anyone who tells you otherwise hasn’t been paying attention.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Malbec, Tannat and Carmenere <\/strong>have something in common beyond their South American homes: they’re all grapes that were underestimated, that struggled in their original contexts, and that found a second life somewhere new. There’s something poetic about that for anyone who has ever felt like the right place for them wasn’t where they started.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When you stand in a Mendoza vineyard with the Andes behind you and a glass of single-vineyard Malbec in your hand, or when you sit on a terrace in Colonia watching the sun drop over the R\u00edo de la Plata with a glass of aged Tannat, or when a Chilean winemaker explains why they finally stopped apologizing for Carmenere and started celebrating it \u2014 you’re not just drinking wine. You’re at the intersection of geography, history, and human stubbornness. That’s a story worth traveling for.<\/p>\n\n\n\n South America’s wine regions <\/strong>are not a consolation prize for travelers who couldn’t get to Burgundy. They’re a destination in their own right \u2014 one that rewards curiosity, punishes assumptions, and almost always exceeds expectations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The only question is where you want to start.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Borravino Wine Tours designs bespoke wine and culinary experiences across Argentina, Uruguay, Chile, and Spain. <\/strong>Get in<\/strong><\/a> <\/strong>touch with<\/strong><\/a> <\/strong>us at <\/strong>claudio@borravinowinetours.com<\/strong><\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Let’s be honest: there are wine regions in the world that get all the attention. Bordeaux. Burgundy. Napa. They’ve been written about a thousand times, they have waiting lists for their top bottles, and their names alone are enough to make collectors reach for their credit cards. And then there’s South America. If the Old […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":1911,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"off","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","_joinchat":[],"footnotes":""},"categories":[54],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1909","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized-pt"],"yoast_head":"\n<\/a>Argentina: Malbec and the High-Altitude Revolution<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
<\/a>Mendoza: More Than Just One Wine Region<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
<\/a>Uruguay: The Tannat Nobody Saw Coming<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
<\/a>Colonia, Montevideo, and Punta del Este: Three Very Different Wine Experiences<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
<\/a>Chile: Carmenere and the Grape That Came Back from the Dead<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
<\/a>The Diversity of Chilean Wine Country<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
<\/a>How to Do This Trip Right<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
<\/a>Three Grapes, Three Countries, One Unforgettable Journey<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
Ready to plan your wine journey?<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n