An American Winemaker's Take On Argentina

Forbes

2 days ago

Organic vineyards near Mendoza in Argentina with Andes in the background
Mendoza has had a strong hold on me for more than two decades. The first time I saw the country's winemaking terrain, hugging the Andes, you could see beauty of the land and the terroir. Add that to the passion of the Argentines for their country and its foods and I was hooked.
I've been back to Argentina a number of times. While a number of great Argentine wine brands have come to the forefront, and foreign investment is increasing, I was always fascinated with the winemaking story of Paul Hobbs: an American winemaker from a farming family in New York State who worked in California for many years.
During a recent trip to his winery, we got a chance to speak about how he fell in love with winemaking in Argentina and started his wine brands including Vina Cobos and his property in Armenia. All responses have been edited and condensed for clarity.
Liza B. Zimmerman (L.B.Z.): What interested you in going to and planting grapes in Argentina?
Paul Hobbs photographed at Marchiori vineyard among Malbec grape vines and the dirt of Vina Cobos ... More terroir. Hobbs, a Sonoma, CA, winemaker, has been making wine, in Argentine, in partnership with winemaker Luis Barraud and viticulturalist wife Andrea Marchiori, whose family ownes this vineyard. (Photo by Ricardo DeAratanha/Los Angeles Times via Getty Images)
Paul Hobbs (P.H.): It was a strong winegrowing region, but the wines at the time weren't living up to that potential. They wanted to do better and once I experienced the terroir myself, I was genuinely excited. I saw a real opportunity to showcase something remarkable and help shift the global perception of the region.
L.B.Z.: When you finally settled on Argentina, what appealed to you the most about that terroir?
P.H.: My first visit to Mendoza was in March of 1988. We crossed the Andes by road, descending into Mendoza and that drive became an unexpected introduction to the region's geology. As we wound through the canyons, I spent the entire drive studying the terrain—loose, alluvial rock, well-drained soils and organic material—all the signs of a landscape that grapevines could thrive in.
Vina Cobbs in Mendoza.
But the big, lingering question was climate. Mendoza has a reputation for being too hot. So that became the driving curiosity: was there a place within this region where cooler-climate viticulture could succeed and how hot was the so-called 'hot zone.'
It quickly became apparent that a higher elevation was a viable option. The temperature differentials were striking.
Had I arranged the trip myself, I likely would have flown directly into Mendoza, but I had the rare chance to enter the region through the mountains, to see the terrain gradually change.
L.B.Z.: What does it share in common with California in terms of soil conditions and grapes?
Paul Hobbs at a tasting.
P.H.: Climatically, you're looking at a continental climate in Argentina versus a maritime one in California. When you line the two up side by side, there really aren't many commonalities. The elevations are also dramatically different.
That's part of the beauty—two regions, both capable of producing world-class wine, but through very different natural conditions. What they do share, though, is that both offer something grapevines respond to really well.
L.B.Z.: What California influences do you bring to winemaking?
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P.H.: My background in California and my U.S. training overall instilled this mindset of always asking why. And I'll admit that can be annoying sometimes, but you need to question things if you're trying to learn and evolve.
So, what I brought from California was a different energy, a different approach. Instead of sticking to tradition, we explored, questioned and experimented. That mindset spread through the team and really accelerated our progress.
L.B.Z.: What advantages did you bring to the project as a foreigner?
P.H.: The real advantage is just in being a foreigner, period. There's a kind of space you're given as an outsider. People either reject you entirely, or they embrace you and elevate you a bit, but rarely are you treated like just another one of the locals. What mattered more was how I worked, how I approached things.
And over time, I became part of their circle — you know, they'd invite me to their homes, we'd have meals together, and sing songs with their families, the kids climbing all over me, and everyone just fully in it.