My very first trip to Portugal was in August 2013 with my childhood friend and frequent travel buddy, Natalie. We’d booked to stay in an off-grid treehouse for a couple of nights in the Algarve when she told me she was allergic to wasp stings. There were wasps everywhere. We beat a hasty retreat and booked into a hotel in Albufeira.
It was then that we decided to go to the restaurant at Vila Joya – it had two Michelin stars and was on the World’s 50 Best list at the time, but we got a table for a mid-week lunch surprisingly easily. Lunch was a multi-course affair, overlooking the sparkling sapphire water of the Atlantic, and we’d ordered a bottle of wine.
I knew nothing about Portuguese wine at the time. In fact, I knew very little about wine at all (although I thought I did). I’m not sure how we came to order a Dão white – perhaps it was just a recommendation from the waiter – but it started a love affair with Portuguese wine (and an endless quest to find a Dão white that tasted as good as that first time) that still persists to this day.
From what I now know, this must have been made from Encruzado grapes – or perhaps it was a blend with Encruzado as the backbone. And the Dão region offers just the right conditions for growing it: high(ish)-altitude vineyards, mountain protection from Atlantic rainfall, a wide diurnal range, granitic soils… all that good stuff. It’s the region’s star native white grape: high in acidity and minerality but capable of developing luscious texture and complexity given the right help along the way.
While young, stainless steel-only Encruzado can stick at citrussy, floral and mineral, my favourite expressions involve some lees stirring and perhaps even a touch of oak (though generally old barrels, not new) – resulting in a full-bodied, waxy texture. People call it Portugal’s answer to Chardonnay, which often feels a little limiting as it very much has its own character, but I guess if it helps people explore Encruzado then so much the better.
While no Dão Encruzado has, for me, quite reached the platonic ideal of that very first mythical bottle from Vila Joya, I’ve been lucky enough to try some lovely examples during my Encruzado Odyssey. The Encruzado Reserva by Cabriz stands out, as does Quinta das Marias’ Encruzado (although in both cases, the vintages I tasted are no longer available). And, like every wine journey, this one doesn’t have an ending – next time I’m in Portugal, I expect I’ll still be chasing the dragon.
In loving memory of Natalie Davis, who died on 12 June 2025 (not from a wasp sting!). Thank you for the balcony chats over G&Ts and bowls of olives. One of the most resilient people I’ve ever known, you taught me a whole lot about feminism but even more about how to laugh at myself. You were also one of my very first subscribers on Substack. I will miss you so much.
I loved reading this, but also was teary for you losing a friend that you had such wonderful memories with. Sending huge hugs across the pond!
So sorry to hear about the passing of your friend 💞 The quest will continue and each taste will bring her memory back to you.