It starts the same way every time. I arrive in a new Spanish wine region with a carefully curated plan—visiting the best organic vineyards, meeting the winemakers, tasting the most highly recommended bottles. And then, within hours, the plan goes out the window. Because Spain doesn’t work like that. Spain works on its own time, its own rhythm, and if you want to understand its wine, you have to do the same.
That’s how I ended up in a tiny, family-run bodega in Ronda, two hours past closing time, being force-fed Manchego by a winemaker who swore his unfiltered Garnacha tasted better when paired with ‘music from the earth’—which, in this case, turned out to be an old flamenco record playing softly in the background. He was right, by the way.
The Powerhouses: Rioja & Ribera del Duero
If you’ve had Spanish wine, chances are you started with Rioja. The name carries weight, and for good reason. This is where Spain perfected the art of barrel-aged reds, long before the organic movement caught up. But dig a little deeper, and you’ll find a handful of winemakers pushing against tradition—ditching excessive oak in favor of purity, letting the grapes do the talking. The best organic Tempranillos here don’t just taste like fruit; they taste like the sun, the wind, the history of the region itself. It’s incredible.
Then there’s Ribera del Duero, Rioja’s bolder, slightly flashier cousin. If Rioja is a refined dinner party, Ribera is the after-hours jazz club—louder, wilder, intense in all the right ways. The organic producers here are doing incredible things with Tinto Fino (their local clone of Tempranillo), crafting high-altitude, structured reds that demand your attention. And, occasionally, demand a very large steak.
The Underdogs: Montsant & Priorat
I have a theory that the best wine regions are the ones where winemakers have something to prove. That’s what makes Montsant so interesting. For years, it sat in the shadow of Priorat, the high-end, critically acclaimed darling of Catalonia. But while Priorat gets all the glory, Montsant’s organic producers have been quietly making some of the most expressive, soulful reds in Spain. They’re approachable, unpretentious, and—dare I say it—better value than a lot of what’s happening across the border in Priorat.
That said, Priorat deserves its reputation. This is where old-vine Garnacha and Cariñena cling to slate-covered hillsides, producing wines so dense and powerful you half-expect them to come with a warning label. The organic movement here is strong, with winemakers scaling back intervention, embracing wild yeasts, and treating their vines like ancient relics (which, to be fair, many of them are). If you want a wine that reminds you that nature, when left to its own devices, is capable of producing absolute magic—this is the place.
The Unexpected Star: Ronda
And then there’s Ronda, where I abandoned my plan entirely. Andalusia isn’t the first place people think of when they think wine country, but that’s what makes it so special. The organic producers here are proving that altitude and limestone soils can work wonders, especially with Garnacha and Syrah. There’s a rawness to the wines—a sense of discovery, of a region still figuring itself out. And that, more than anything, makes it exciting.
The Wild Card: Galicia
I was going to wrap this up, but I’d be doing a disservice if I didn’t mention Galicia. If you think Spain is all bold reds and sunbaked landscapes, spend a week in Rías Baixas. Here, the Atlantic crashes against the cliffs, the vineyards look like they belong in a fairy tale, and Albariño reigns supreme. It’s crisp, electric, salty in the way that only a wine
grown near the ocean can be. The organic producers here aren’t just making great white wine—they’re making wine that redefines what Spanish white wine can be. They deserve a lot of respect.
So Where’s the Best Organic Wine in Spain?
That depends on what you’re looking for. If you want history and structure, go to Rioja. If you want power and intensity, Ribera del Duero has you covered. If you love underdogs, Montsant is waiting. If you want something that makes no sense on paper but works beautifully in practice, head to Ronda. And if you just want to sit by the ocean with a glass of something fresh and bright, Galicia will take care of you.
The real trick? Forget the plan. Follow the wines, follow the stories, and see where you end up. If Spain has taught me anything, it’s that the best bottles—and the best experiences—are never the ones you set out to find.