The Heart, the Lost Memory & the Man Who Planted Every Vine
In the geographic centre of Andalusia, between the Guadalquivir River and the Subbética mountains, José Miguel Márquez — vitivinicultor, one-man band, and keeper of lost things — tends 5 hectares he planted entirely by hand, on slopes of albariza and sand, making zero-additive wine from indigenous varieties without ploughing, without compost, and without ever having believed that wine needed help to become itself.
Origin — 1997, the Hand & the Refusal of Compost
José Miguel Márquez Herrador is not merely the winemaker at Marenas. He is the vitivinicultor — a word that joins vine and wine into a single act of care. He is a one-man band in the truest sense: he tends the vines, harvests the grapes, makes the wine, bottles it, labels it, answers the emails, and drives the consignments to the courier. He lives and works in Cerro Encinas, a place in the municipality of Montilla, in the province of Córdoba — the geographic centre of Andalusia, equidistant from the Atlantic and the Mediterranean, from the Guadalquivir and the Subbética mountains.
In 1997, José Miguel began producing natural wines — though the term was not yet in fashion. By 1999, his philosophy had crystallised: zero sulphur, zero additives, zero chemical treatments — not merely in the cellar, but in the vineyard itself. He planted every vine on his estate by hand. All 5 hectares — roughly 2,900 vines — were placed into the earth by his own fingers, on slopes of 10% to 20% gradient, between 350 and 450 metres above sea level. There was no contractor. There was no machinery. There was only a man, a shovel, and a conviction that the best vineyards are planted one vine at a time.
But José Miguel's radicalism goes deeper than the refusal of chemicals. He also refuses to add organic matter — no compost, no manure, no purchased fertiliser of any kind. "No incorporamos materia orgánica de ningún tipo, para no crear desequilibrios en la producción del viñedo." Most natural winemakers compost aggressively. José Miguel believes that even organic matter, when imported, disturbs the equilibrium of the soil. Instead, he works with native grass — cutting it and incorporating it directly into the soil — and crushes his pruning remains, returning them to the earth as the only organic input the vineyard receives. The land feeds itself. The vigneron merely facilitates the conversation.
His project is not merely agricultural. It is archaeological. José Miguel speaks of Memoria Perdida — the Lost Memory — a search for the way wines were made before industrial agriculture, before selected yeasts, before sulphur became a crutch. "Busco en la tierra la Memoria Perdida de los vinos de antes." He is not trying to invent something new. He is trying to remember something old — a way of farming and winemaking that existed in Andalusia long before the DOs, the consultants, and the chemistry sets. His bodega is a memory palace, and every bottle is a recovered fragment.
The Place — Albariza & Arena, the Atlantic Breath & the First Harvest in Spain
Montilla sits in the Campiña Sur Cordobesa, in the valley of the Guadalquivir, at the foot of the Sierra Subbética — a landscape of rolling hills, white villages, and ancient olive groves that has been cultivated since before the Romans. The climate is officially Mediterranean, but it carries a strong Atlantic influence — humid, saline air that arrives from the west, moderating the heat and preserving acidity in a region that should, by latitude, produce only jammy, overripe wines. With 3,000 hours of sun per year, the vegetative cycle is extraordinarily fast. Marenas is typically the first region in Spain to begin harvest — sometimes weeks ahead of Jerez or the Levante.
Cerro Encinas — 350 Metres, Albariza & Arena
The Cerro Encinas vineyard sits at roughly 350 metres above sea level on a slope of the hill that gives it its name. The soils are a singular mixture of albariza and sand — the white chalky marl that defines the great wines of Jerez and Montilla-Moriles, blended with sandy deposits that provide drainage and prevent waterlogging. The albariza reflects sunlight back into the canopy, increasing photosynthesis. The sand prevents root rot. Together, they produce a soil of extraordinary fertility paradox: rich in calcium carbonate but poor in organic matter, forcing the vines to struggle and concentrate their fruit. It is a terroir that demands resilience and rewards it with intensity.
Río Frío Alto — 450 Metres, the Montepilas Mothers
The second parcel, Río Frío Alto, sits higher — at 450 metres — on the Sierra de Montilla. It is here that José Miguel tends his Montepilas vines — an indigenous white grape unique to Montilla, historically used only as a blending component for Pedro Ximénez, never given its own voice. The elevation brings cooler nights, slower ripening, and a preservation of acidity that is rare for the variety. The soil is similar — albariza mixed with sand — but the altitude changes everything. The Montepilas here is not a blending grape. It is a protagonist. And José Miguel is the first winemaker in modern history to treat it as such.
The Atlantic Breath & 3,000 Hours of Sun
The climate is extreme: 3,000 hours of annual sunshine produce sugars of extraordinary concentration, while the Atlantic breeze — humid, saline, continental — preserves the acidity that prevents the wines from collapsing into sweetness. The result is a perfect maturation: ripe fruit with fresh backbone. José Miguel notes that the practical absence of climatic inclemencies in the region means that his grapes arrive at harvest completely healthy, year after year — a consistency that allows him to work without sulphur with a confidence that vintners in less stable climates cannot match. The sun gives the power. The Atlantic gives the poise.
No Plowing, No Chemicals, No Imbalance
José Miguel does not plough his land. He does not use any chemical treatment in the vineyard or the cellar — no herbicides, no pesticides, no fungicides, no systemic treatments of any kind. The native grass grows between the rows, is cut, and is incorporated into the soil as natural mulch. The pruning remains are crushed and returned to the earth. The vineyard is a closed loop: what grows there stays there. The only intervention is the hand of the vigneron, the shears, and the shovel. It is farming at its most elemental — not organic as a certification, but organic as a way of being.
Winemaking — Memoria Perdida, the Nocturnal Harvest & Nothing But Fermented Juice
José Miguel's philosophy is disarmingly simple, stated on his own website with the directness of a man who has no time for marketing: "Sin más que la fermentación del zumo de las diferentes variedades de uva, sin aditivos." Nothing more than the fermentation of the juice of different grape varieties, without additives. There is no chaptalisation, no acidification, no selected yeast, no enzymatic correction, no fining, no filtration, and no added sulphur dioxide in any wine. The wines are fermented with indigenous yeasts, aged without manipulation, and bottled without compromise. The result is not merely natural wine. It is vino del terreno — farm wine, the way it was made before there was a name for it.
The winemaking is deliberately traditional. Grapes are hand-harvested — and occasionally, when the heat demands it, harvested at night — into small containers and brought immediately to the cellar. For the whites, whole clusters are pressed directly into stainless steel tanks, where fermentation begins spontaneously. For the reds, foot-treading or gentle crushing breaks the skins, and fermentation proceeds in open vats with manual punch-downs. There is no temperature control. There is no addition of commercial yeast. The wine is racked by gravity, aged in tank or old wood, and bottled when it is ready — not when the market demands it.
José Miguel's whites are particularly radical. He makes orange wines — like Matapalos, a skin-contact Pedro Ximénez — and oxidative wines under flor — like Bajo Velo, a Pedro Ximénez fermented and rested beneath a veil of yeast, in the tradition of the region but without fortification, without sulphur, and without the industrial scale of the great sherry houses. He also makes a pet-nat rosé — Buryole — from Tempranillo, fermented with wild yeasts in stainless steel, bottled before fermentation completes, and disgorged without dosage. The range is small but it covers the entire spectrum of natural winemaking: still, sparkling, orange, oxidative, red, white, and pink.
The ageing is patient. The wines rest until they are stable — often longer than commercial logic would advise. José Miguel is not in a hurry. He has no investors. He has no export manager. He has 5 hectares, a cellar, and a philosophy that the wine will tell him when it is ready. "Mi filosofía se basa en el cuidado de las cepas, y el respeto al medio ambiente. El resultado son vinos que expresan la naturaleza del terreno y el clima del lugar." The care of the vines. The respect for the environment. The expression of the terroir and the climate. That is all.
The Wines — From the Lost Grape to the Veil of Flor
Marenas Viñedo y Bodega produces a small, focused range of wines from its 5 hectares — all labelled as Vino de España or, in some cases, Vino de la Tierra de Córdoba — a deliberate independence from the DO Montilla-Moriles that allows José Miguel to bottle what the vineyard gives him, not what the appellation demands. The wines span red, white, orange, oxidative, and sparkling — a complete portrait of a single man's vision, expressed through indigenous varieties that the modern world had forgotten or relegated to blending material.
Marenas "Cerro Encinas"
Monastrell red — MontillaThe estate's signature red — 100% Monastrell from the Cerro Encinas vineyard, planted in 1998 (1,400 vines) with an additional 1,500 vines planted in 2016. The vineyard sits on a mixture of albariza and sandy soils at 350 metres, on slopes of 10% to 20%. Hand-harvested, foot-trodden or gently crushed, and fermented spontaneously in open vats. The wine is fresh, light, and immediately drinkable — soft, silky tannins, aromas and flavours of black cherry, light pepper, and licorice. It is a Monastrell that refuses the heavy, jammy stereotype of the variety, instead offering a transparency and a savoury freshness that speaks directly to the Atlantic-influenced terroir. A wine for grilled meats, aged cheeses, and long evenings. Zero sulphur, zero filtration, zero fining.
Marenas "Mediacapa"
Pedro Ximénez white — Río Frío AltoA profound white wine from Pedro Ximénez — the grape more commonly associated with the sweet, fortified wines of Montilla-Moriles, here expressed as a dry, unfortified, zero-additive white from the Río Frío Alto vineyard at 450 metres. The name Mediacapa refers to the half-canopy training system. Fermented spontaneously in stainless steel after direct pressing of whole clusters. The result is a wine of surprising freshness and complexity — tropical fruit, white flowers, and a distinct albariza-derived chalky minerality that prevents the richness of the grape from becoming cloying. It is a white wine that reclaims Pedro Ximénez from the dessert table and returns it to the dinner table. Zero sulphur, zero filtration.
Marenas "Matapalos"
Orange / skin-contact — MontillaAn orange wine of extraordinary character — Pedro Ximénez fermented and macerated on its skins, producing a wine of deep amber colour, firm tannin, and complex aromatic evolution. The nose is of dried apricot, orange peel, wild honey, and Mediterranean herbs. The palate is full-bodied, grippy, and savoury — a wine that demands food and attention. It is the radical face of Marenas: not content to make a conventional white from PX, José Miguel pushes the grape into skin-contact territory, creating something that is neither sherry nor conventional orange wine, but a unique expression of Montilla's most famous variety through the lens of natural winemaking. Zero sulphur, zero filtration.
Marenas "Bajo Velo"
Oxidative white under flor — MontillaA truly singular wine — Pedro Ximénez fermented and then aged under a veil of flor yeast — bajo velo — in the tradition of the great wines of Jerez and Sanlúcar, but without fortification, without sulphur, and without the industrial scale of the solera houses. The flor protects the wine from oxidation while imparting complex notes of almond, bread dough, brine, and dried flowers. But because José Miguel does not fortify, the wine remains lighter, more fragile, and more alive than conventional fino or manzanilla. It is oxidative, punchy, complex — a beast, as one importer described it — and it is a wine that exists almost nowhere else in the natural wine world: a zero-additive, unfortified flor wine from Montilla. Zero sulphur, zero filtration.
Marenas "Montepilas"
Indigenous white — Río Frío AltoThe most important wine in the portfolio for reasons of heritage — a monovarietal white from Montepilas, an indigenous grape unique to Montilla that has historically been used only to blend with Pedro Ximénez, never bottled on its own. José Miguel changed that. Sourced from the Río Frío Alto vineyard at 450 metres, hand-harvested, pressed in whole clusters, and fermented with native yeasts in stainless steel. The wine is intense, with mature green apple, cinnamon, and a perfect texture — rich but not overwhelming. Production is tiny. In some vintages, only 6,000 bottles are made. It is a wine of extraordinary rarity — not because it is expensive, but because it is the only one of its kind in the world. A wine for those who understand that saving a grape from extinction is more important than scoring points. Zero sulphur, zero filtration.
Marenas "Buryole"
Rosé pet-nat — MontillaA rosé pet-nat — burbujas y ole — made from 100% Tempranillo, hand-harvested and fermented with wild yeasts in stainless steel. Bottled before fermentation completes to trap natural CO₂, then disgorged without dosage, without exogenous yeast, and without sulphur. The result is a sparkling wine of extraordinary freshness and joy — wild strawberry, rose petal, citrus, and a gentle, prickly mousse that makes you reach for another glass. The name Buryole is pure Andalusian playfulness — bubbles and wow. It is the most approachable wine in the range, but it is made with the same zero-additive discipline as the most serious cuvée. A wine for chilling, for celebrations, and for proving that natural wine can be clean, joyful, and alive. Zero sulphur, zero dosage.
Marenas "Alvaro"
Red blend — Vino de la Tierra de CórdobaA red blend of Syrah and Monastrell — a marriage of the international and the indigenous, made with the same zero-intervention discipline as the rest of the portfolio. Sourced from the Cerro Encinas vineyard, hand-harvested, spontaneously fermented, and aged without manipulation. The Syrah contributes pepper and structure; the Monastrell brings dark berry fruit and Mediterranean warmth. The result is a wine of greater depth and complexity than the pure Monastrell — meaty, savoury, and deeply satisfying. It is bottled under the Vino de la Tierra de Córdoba designation, a recognition of its blend composition. For grilled lamb, aged Manchego, and the long, slow meals that Andalusia does best. Zero sulphur, zero filtration.
Marenas "Vides" / Experimental Cuvées
Variable — MontillaJosé Miguel's experimental edge — cuvées that change with the vintage, the vineyard, and his own curiosity. Vides may explore Cabernet Sauvignon or Petit Verdot grown on the estate's sandier parcels. Other limited releases may include single-parcel bottlings, short-maceration skin-contact whites, or blends that incorporate Pinot Noir — a variety that José Miguel has experimented with in the cooler corners of his slopes. The common thread is zero additives and total creative freedom. These wines are not always available. When they are, they sell out immediately to those who understand that Marenas' experiments are not gimmicks but genuine inquiries into what the albariza and sand of Montilla can express when no DO is watching. Zero sulphur, zero filtration.
Legacy — The One-Man Band, the Closed Loop & the Memory of Before
Marenas Viñedo y Bodega matters because it is one of the most radically pure wine projects in Spain — the work of a single man who, from 5 hectares he planted entirely by hand, makes zero-additive wines without sulphur, without filtration, without selected yeasts, and without even adding organic matter. In a region where Montilla-Moriles is synonymous with sweet, fortified Pedro Ximénez, José Miguel Márquez has created a portfolio that includes dry PX, orange PX, flor-aged PX, a rescued indigenous white, and a Tempranillo pet-nat — all from a closed-loop vineyard that receives nothing from outside but rain and sun.
His legacy is agricultural. By farming 5 hectares on slopes of 10% to 20% without chemicals, without ploughing, without compost, and without irrigation, José Miguel has created a model of viticulture that is closer to the pre-industrial vino del terreno than to any modern certification. His native grass management, his crushed-pruning mulch, his nocturnal harvests, and his hand-planted vines are not techniques. They are a way of being in the land — a refusal to impose that is more radical than any biodynamic preparation.
His legacy is also oenological. The Bajo Velo — a zero-additive, unfortified Pedro Ximénez aged under flor — is a wine that exists almost nowhere else in the world. The Montepilas — the first monovarietal bottling of a grape that had been relegated to blending material for centuries — is an act of viticultural rescue. The Matapalos — an orange wine from PX — pushes the region's most famous variety into territory that the DO would not recognise. And the Buryole — a pet-nat rosé from Tempranillo — proves that natural wine in Andalusia can be joyful, clean, and alive. These are not eccentricities. They are a complete reimagining of what Montilla can be.
And his legacy is philosophical. "Busco en la tierra la Memoria Perdida de los vinos de antes." The Lost Memory. It is not a marketing slogan. It is a mission statement. José Miguel is not trying to innovate. He is trying to remember — to recover a way of making wine that existed before the categories of natural and conventional, before sulphur was standard, before the DOs told farmers what they could and could not bottle. His wines are memory palaces: every sip is a recovered fragment of Andalusian viticultural history.
From the hand-planted vineyard to the closed-loop soil, from the albariza and sand of Cerro Encinas to the Río Frío Alto at 450 metres, from the Montepilas mothers to the veil of flor, Marenas Viñedo y Bodega is a testament to what happens when one man decides that the vineyard is older than the appellation, that the soil knows more than the consultant, and that the best way to make wine is to add nothing, take nothing away, and remember. The one-man band has spoken. The land listens. And the drinker is transformed.

