The Garage, the Grandfather's Lament & the Wine That Does What It Wants
In 1999 Juanjo Moreno planted two hectares in Villamor de los Escuderos to make a wine that was simply "drinkable." By 2009 he and Maribel were fermenting in their garage. By 2013 they had gone zero sulphur. Today, with their son Abel, Microbodega del Alumbro is a four-and-a-half-hectare laboratory of skin-contact whites, ancestral sparklings, and reds that refuse to behave — all farmed organically, all fermented with indigenous yeasts, and all left alone to do what they want.
Origin — The Suegro, the Subsidised Uprooting & the Realisation
Juan José Moreno — Juanjo to everyone who knows him — grew up in Villamor de los Escuderos, a tiny village in the province of Zamora, south of the Duero, helping his grandfather tend six hectares of vines. Most were hybrid direct-producers, the high-yielding workhorses of mid-century Spain, but there were also table grapes: Albillo, Jerez, and Malvasía. What Juanjo remembers most vividly is an old tinta vineyard in a plot called "Las Tres Lagunas" — ancient, miserly, producing exiguous clusters that his grandfather complained about constantly. "¡¡Quién la pillara ahora!!" Who would have it now! It disappeared in the 1980s, ripped out like so many others by subsidised programmes that paid farmers to destroy their heritage.
The real turning point came in Alcalá de Henares in the early 1990s, when Juanjo met the father of the woman who would become his wife. His suegro was a passionate wine aficionado, and from 1987 onward Juanjo began to appreciate what good wine actually tasted like — a revelation for a young man accustomed to the rough, oxidised wines of his village's underground cellars. He set himself a modest goal: to make a wine in his own land that was, simply, "bebible" — drinkable.
He had always loved agriculture and the countryside, and during his training he sought out the organic movement, following Spain's legendary magazine Integral from its earliest issues. In 1999, he planted his first two hectares in Villamor de los Escuderos. He studied enology and viticulture at the IMIA in El Encín, where he had the privilege of learning from D. Luis Hidalgo — the last giant of Spanish vitivinicultural science. And in 2009, he and Maribel Rodríguez began making wine in their garage.
The path to natural wine was not planned. It was discovered. In 2012 they attended the first RAW Wine Fair in London and a natural wine tasting where they realised, with something between shock and delight, that they were already making natural wine without knowing it. In 2013, they made their first zero-sulphur wine — Berretes 2013 — and everything changed. They abandoned enological products entirely and reoriented their entire project toward absolute non-intervention. Their son Abel (and another son, Juan) now works alongside them, making Microbodega del Alumbro a true family affair.
The Place — South of the Duero, the Sand & the Silence
Villamor de los Escuderos sits in the Tierra del Vino de Zamora, a DOP that lies south of the Duero in the northwestern corner of Castilla y León. It is a high plateau at roughly 850 metres above sea level, brutally continental in climate — scorching summers, freezing winters, and a silence so complete you can hear the vines growing. The village itself is tiny — a handful of houses, a church, and the Moreno-Rodríguez family working their four-and-a-half hectares across six small parcels.
4.5 Hectares in Six Parcels
The estate is deliberately small — 4.5 hectares across six parcels, all farmed organically and certified as such. The average vine age is more than 75 years, with many parcels containing centenarian material. The vineyards are worked entirely by hand: no tractors, no herbicides, no chemical pesticides, no synthetic fertilisers. Juanjo and Maribel believe in causing as little impact as possible, even though they acknowledge the contradictions of modern life. The result is fruit that carries the stress, the altitude, and the sand of Zamora in every berry.
A Mosaic of Forgotten Varieties
The vineyards are a living seed bank of varieties that the mainstream DOs have forgotten or forbidden. Reds: Tempranillo, Tinta del País, and a little Cabernet Sauvignon. Whites: Godello, Albillo Real, Palomino, Macabeo, Chasselas Doré, Malvasía, Verdeja, and Moscatel de Grano Menudo. This is not a monoculture. It is a viticultural archive — the kind of mixed planting that existed before the appellation system demanded purity. The whites, in particular, are the soul of the project: old, low-yielding, and capable of extraordinary concentration.
Organic Certified (CAECyL)
All viticulture is certified organic by CAECyL — the Castilla y León organic agriculture council. But Juanjo and Maribel go beyond the certificate. They follow a philosophy of minimum intervention in the vineyard: no chemical treatments on the soil, the vines, or the fruit. They use only natural compost and plant-based preparations. The goal is not a label on a bottle but vital serenity — their own phrase for the peace that comes from working in harmony with the land rather than against it.
The Viticultores Bio
Juanjo and Maribel call themselves "viticultores bio" — bio winegrowers. It is a humble title that places the emphasis where they believe it belongs: on the vineyard, not the cellar. They see themselves as farmers first, winemakers second. The cellar is simply where the grapes finish what the vineyard started. This humility is rare in an era of celebrity winemakers, and it is reflected in every bottle: no ego, no makeup, no attempt to impress — just fruit, time, and trust.
Winemaking — Let the Wine Do Its Thing
Juanjo's cellar philosophy is disarmingly simple: "A Juanjo le gusta que los vinos hagan lo suyo sin que él haga nada." Juanjo likes the wines to do their thing without him doing anything. This is not laziness. It is a radical trust in the material. He knows that some wines are technically defective — that volatile acidity might appear, that reduction might linger, that a bottle might go somewhere unexpected. He does not care. "Lo que importa es que sus vinos gustan, y mucho, y cada vez a mas gente." What matters is that their wines taste good, and they do, and to more and more people.
Since 2013, the year of Berretes, there have been no added sulphites in any wine. No selected yeasts. No temperature manipulation. No fining. No filtration. No stabilisation. The whites are almost all macerated on their skins — what Juanjo calls embabujados, the local term for skin-contact wines. The reds ferment spontaneously and age however they see fit. Some years they make an ancestral sparkling. Some years they experiment with Cabernet. Some years a wine surprises them and becomes something they did not plan. They follow, they do not lead.
The cellar is in the village — a garage that became a winery, expanded organically as the project grew. Fermentations happen in stainless steel, plastic, and whatever vessels are available. There is no investment in new French oak, no polished tasting room, no consultant enologist. There is only Juanjo, Maribel, Abel, and the grapes. The wines are bottled unfined and unfiltered, often under crown cap, sometimes with a little natural CO2 still dissolved — a slight fizz that announces their aliveness.
The result is a range of wines that are unpredictable, alive, and deeply personal. They vary from vintage to vintage. They evolve in the bottle. They may show reduction, volatility, or sediment. They may be hazy, funky, or brilliantly clear. There is no house style except honesty. And that honesty has found an audience: from RAW Wine to natural wine bars in Bilbao, Santander, and beyond, Microbodega del Alumbro has become a cult name for those who understand that perfection is not the point.
The Wines — From the Garage to the Skin-Contact Archive
Microbodega Rodríguez Morán's range is small, variable, and fiercely local. Production is tiny — roughly 8,000 litres a year — and every wine is made according to what the vintage and the vineyard provide. Because they work outside the DO system, they cannot always put the grape variety on the label, so they use evocative names that hint at what is inside. All wines are vegan, unfiltered, and contain no added sulphites.
Berretes
The flagship embabujado — ZamoraThe wine that changed everything. A skin-contact blend of Godello, Verdeja, Albillo Real, and Chasselas Doré from old vines — many over 100 years old. Fermented with indigenous yeasts and macerated on the skins. The 2013 was the first zero-sulphur vintage, the moment Juanjo and Maribel committed fully to natural wine. Deep amber in the glass. Aromas of dried apricot, wild herbs, honey, and a saline, almost oxidative note. On the palate: structured, tannic, savoury, and deeply complex — an orange wine that tastes like Zamora's high plateau and Juanjo's grandfather's forgotten vines. Unfiltered, unfined, no added sulphites. The flagship.
Albyreal
100% Albillo Real — Zamora100% Albillo Real — one of the great forgotten white grapes of Castilla y León, nearly erased by the rise of Verdejo and international varieties. Juanjo macerates it on the skins and lets it ferment spontaneously. The result is a wine of extraordinary texture and perfume: white flowers, quince, almond, and a waxy, honeyed mouthfeel that only old-vine Albillo can provide. It is hazy, alive, and slightly wild — a wine that challenges the drinker and rewards patience. Some bottles show a touch of natural effervescence. Unfiltered, zero sulphur.
Palote
Palomino embabujado — Zamora100% Palomino — the grape famous for sherry, here expressed as a skin-contact white wine from old vines in Villamor de los Escuderos. Juanjo has spent years perfecting both the vineyard parcel and the winemaking, and recent vintages (notably 2019) are described as "está como un cohete" — like a rocket. Deep orange, intensely aromatic, with notes of dried citrus, chamomile, nuts, and a saline, almost maritime finish. It is the most assertive of the embabujados: tannic, structured, and uncompromising. A wine that proves Palomino has a life beyond Jerez. Zero sulphur, unfiltered.
Hello God
Godello — ZamoraA Godello that has made fans of everyone who tastes it — fresh, mineral, and joyfully expressive. Depending on the vintage, it may see brief skin contact or be pressed directly and fermented in stainless steel. The Godello comes from old vines in the Zamoran highlands, where the variety has been present for centuries (traditionally called Verdejo in the area). On the nose: lemon, green apple, wild herbs, and crushed stone. On the palate: bright acidity, medium body, and a long, saline finish that speaks of the Duero's southern bank. One of the most accessible wines in the range, but no less honest. No added sulphites.
Alumbro Clarete
Co-fermented rosé — ZamoraA clarete-style rosé made from co-fermented red and white grapes — typically around 50% Garnacha and 50% Viura (or another white variety from the vineyard). Hazy, salmon-orange in colour, with a slight natural spritz from dissolved CO2. On the nose: chamomile, wild strawberry, cherry, and a touch of salinity. On the palate: dry, medium-plus acidity, medium body, and a finish that is fresh, herbal, and unmistakably Castilian. Bottled unfined and unfiltered under crown cap. A wine for picnics, for porrons, for the moment when the afternoon collapses into evening. ~12% alcohol. Zero sulphur.
Alumbro Tinto
Tempranillo & Cabernet — ZamoraA red blend of Tempranillo and Cabernet Sauvignon from the old vineyards of Villamor de los Escuderos. Fermented spontaneously, aged briefly, and bottled with zero additions. The profile is rustic, honest, and deeply Zamoran: dark cherry, leather, almond extract, and a touch of earth. Medium-bodied, with gentle tannins and a savoury, food-friendly finish. It is not a polished, DO-compliant Ribera del Duero. It is something older and more authentic — a wine that tastes like the underground cellars Juanjo drank from as a child. Unfiltered, unfined, no sulphites.
Villalove
Tempranillo — ZamoraA pure Tempranillo (or Tinta del País) from the oldest red parcels in the estate. Lighter in colour and body than the Alumbro Tinto, but deeper in soul. Red berry fruit, dried herbs, a touch of smoke, and the mineral backbone that comes from 75-year-old vines on high-altitude Zamoran soils. It is a wine of quiet intensity — not shouting, but insistent. Perfect with roasted meats, aged cheese, and the long, slow conversations that only village life allows. Zero sulphur, unfiltered, unfined.
Maeve
Moscatel — ZamoraFrom Moscatel de Grano Menudo — the small-berry Muscat that perfumes the air around Villamor de los Escuderos in late summer. Depending on the vintage, it may be made as a fresh, aromatic white or given brief skin contact for added texture. Intensely floral: orange blossom, jasmine, rose petal, and ripe apricot. On the palate: medium-bodied, slightly honeyed, with a balancing acidity that prevents cloying. A wine of pure pleasure — the kind of bottle that converts sceptics to natural wine in a single sip. Extremely limited. No added sulphites.
Malveral
Malvasía — ZamoraFrom Malvasía — one of the historic white varieties of the Duero valley, now largely replaced by Albillo and Verdejo. Juanjo tends a small parcel of old Malvasía and makes it with the same hands-off approach as everything else. The wine is aromatic, waxy, and deeply textured: notes of dried peach, beeswax, fennel, and a long, mineral finish. It is a variety that rewards patience in the vineyard and restraint in the cellar — both of which Juanjo possesses in abundance. A rare wine, even by Microbodega del Alumbro's standards. Zero sulphur, unfiltered.
Ancestral Sparkling
Méthode ancestrale — ZamoraAn ancestral-method sparkling wine made in certain vintages from white varieties — typically a blend of whatever is performing best in the vineyard. Bottled before primary fermentation is complete, allowing the wine to finish fermenting in the bottle on its own lees. Cloudy, vigorous, and joyfully irregular — a wine that explodes with foam when opened and tastes like the Zamoran countryside in spring: herbs, citrus, wildflowers, and a chalky mineral backbone. Bottled under crown cap, undisgorged, unfiltered. The party wine of the range, and a rare example of pet nat from the Tierra del Vino. No added sulphites.
Legacy — The Garage, the Embabujado & the Vital Serenity
Microbodega Rodríguez Morán matters because it is one of the most authentic and unpretentious natural wine projects in Spain — a family winery born in a garage, discovered by accident at RAW Wine, and maintained with a humility that refuses every temptation of the modern wine industry. In a region where the DO Tierra del Vino de Zamora struggles for recognition and the neighbouring Ribera del Duero casts a long shadow, Juanjo, Maribel, and Abel have proven that honesty is more valuable than points and that a wine made without sulphites in a village of a hundred souls can travel to London, New York, and Tokyo.
Their legacy is agricultural. By farming 4.5 hectares organically across six parcels, by preserving old vines of Godello, Albillo Real, Palomino, Malvasía, and Moscatel that commercial wineries would have grubbed up, and by working entirely by hand without chemicals, they have maintained a piece of the Zamoran plateau that would otherwise have been lost. The centenarian Godello and Verdeja that go into Berretes are irreplaceable. Their roots descend through decades of soil, tapping water and minerals that young vines cannot reach. When they die, a library dies with them. Juanjo is their archivist.
Their legacy is also cultural. The term embabujado — the local name for skin-contact white wine — is not a borrowed fashion from Georgia or Friuli. It is a Zamoran tradition, and Juanjo has made it his signature. By macerating almost all his whites on their skins, he has created a range of orange wines that are rooted in place rather than trend: Berretes, Palote, Albyreal — each one tastes like Villamor de los Escuderos, like old vines, like the silence of the high plateau. They are not orange wines for Instagram. They are orange wines for the table.
And their legacy is philosophical. The commitment to zero sulphur since 2013, the willingness to accept "technical defects," the refusal to filter or fine, and the simple conviction that wine should taste good and that is enough — these are radical positions in an industry obsessed with control. Juanjo does not control his wines. He accompanies them. Sometimes they go sideways. Sometimes they become something unexpected. Always, they are alive. And always, they find drinkers who understand that perfection is not the point.
From the garage in Villamor de los Escuderos to the RAW Wine Fair in London, from the grandfather's lament for "Las Tres Lagunas" to the skin-contact Palomino that tastes like a rocket, Microbodega Rodríguez Morán is a testament to what happens when a family decides that the land is worth more than the subsidy, that old vines are worth more than new plantations, and that wine should do what it wants. "Salud y buen vino." Health and good wine. Two words. A complete philosophy.