Antonio Madeira was born and raised in Paris, but long felt the call of his ancestral homeland in Portugal. In 2011, he began making wine in the garage of his parents’ Dão vacation home after discovering a plot of 50-year-old vines. They’re now the youngest vines he works with. He has focused his attention on the foothills of the Serra de Estrella mountain range, where he’s been able to take over plots of extremely old vines, often over 100 years old. He brings a very French perspective to this special place, aiming to one day map out and designate the “Grand Crus” of the Dão. And he makes his wines with techniques more reminiscent of a natural French producer than the large companies who still dominate the vinous landscape here. All his wines are fermented spontaneously, without any additives, and only see small doses of sulfur just before bottling. He farms organically, with biodynamic treatments.  As a demonstration of his dedication, he’s divided his six hectares of vines into 23 parcels, all of which he ferments separately. And there are no single-variety wines here: Antonio only harvests and ferments his wines as field blends, picking the whole parcel at once and fermenting all the grapes, red and white, together. 

The Dão is one of those treasures hidden in plain sight that Portugal just seems to be full of. Old, gnarled vines of innumerable indigenous varieties like Baga and Tinta Pinheira dot the landscape. Thanks to wind drawn in by the Serra de Estrella range mountains, as well as the cooling effect of the nearby Mondego river, the climate here is much more temperate than Mediterranean. Combine these two factors with the granite soils underlying the vineyards—just like in Beaujolais—and you’ve got a recipe for wines that combine old-vine intensity with cool climate snap. The resulting wines have a mineral tension and freshness you might not think possible in the Portuguese interior. 

Antonio’s 2020 Dão Tinto pours a vivid purple, thanks to the deep color of the Alfrocheiro that makes up the majority of the field blend (coming from such old vineyards of mixed varieties, it’s impossible to know the exact grapes at play here). The rest is Touriga Nacional, immediately apparent thanks to the wave of violet and black pepper on the nose. Crushed blackberries, blackcurrants, fresh raspberry, mulled purple plums, fennel seed and petrichor follow behind. The palate is wildly elegant, soft and wide open, yet with a brisk acidity and fine, sandy tannins keeping everything in place. Antonio calls this his vin de soif (“wine for thirst”), and it’s certainly a chuggable bottle. But there’s also incredible complexity here, oodles of mineral and darkfruited nuance to sink your teeth into. Serve at 55 degrees alongside something similarly simple yet complex, like arroz de pato, and you’ll be looking forward to our next Dão offer as much as we are.