The Detective, the Forty Days & the Warehouse That Bottled Málaga
In an unmarked warehouse on an industrial estate in Coín, Samuel Párraga — 36-year-old oenologist, third-generation farm winemaker, and self-described "0,0" absolutist — makes ~10,000 bottles a year of zero-sulphur wine from rescued indigenous varieties across Málaga and Granada. From the slate of the Montes de Málaga to the calcareous soils of Mollina, he is tracking down forgotten vineyards, talking to old farmers, and proving that the risk of natural wine is enormous — which is exactly why almost nobody makes it.
Origin — Colmenar, the Lagar, the 40 Days & the Warehouse
Samuel Párraga was born in Cártama, in the province of Málaga, into a family that had never known a life without wine. His grandfather made wine in Colmenar, in the Montes de Málaga. His father made wine in Cártama. Neither was a professional vigneron. They were campesinos — humble farmers who grew wheat for flour, olives for oil, and grapes for wine, selling or bartering among family and friends. The wine they made was called vino del terreno — farm wine, with nothing added. The grapes were stomped in the lagar — the old stone press — and left to ferment spontaneously. No sulphites. No selected yeasts. No filtration. Just grape juice and time.
But the family had its rituals. The wine could not be touched for 40 days after fermentation began. Women were not allowed in the bodega. The wine was racked only after the 40-day period had passed. Samuel, as a child, found these superstitions fascinating — and some of them, he now believes, contained a wisdom that science has only recently confirmed. "Lo de los 40 días me gusta y también creo que algunas prácticas que tienen sentido." He was 14 when he made his first wine alone, his father giving instructions from his other job, Samuel staying behind in the family bodega to do what he could.
The family formalised their project in 2010, hiring an oenologist to legalise the winery. Samuel, then an adolescent, attached himself to the professional and absorbed everything. The oenologist taught them modern techniques: sulphites, selected yeasts, acidity adjustments, fining, filtration. They went from rustic vino del terreno to clear, clean, supermarket-ready wine. Samuel studied Vitiviniculture in Manilva, then Enology at the University of Cádiz — mathematics, physics, chemistry, edaphology. He interned at Bodegas La Capuchina, worked a harvest in Napa Valley, and then, the decisive trip: the Loire Valley, where he worked with Mark Angeli and discovered that the natural wine he had grown up with was not merely tradition — it was a philosophy with a global community.
In 2016, he tasted the wines of Barranco Oscuro in Granada, Antonio Vílchez in Granada, and Fernando Angulo in Sanlúcar de Barrameda. The discovery was explosive. "La calidad de la uva se iba perdiendo con cada proceso. Perdía toda la gracia." He left the family project in 2017 and founded Bodega Viñerón in 2018 — the name a nod to the vine and the man who tends it. In 2020 he secured a warehouse on the Fadricas industrial estate in Coín — an incubator space from the Centro Andaluz de Emprendimiento (CADE). It is not a picturesque cellar. It is a functional, unmarked nave with a blue door, filled with treading vats, wooden barrels, earthenware jars, manual presses, pallets of bottles, and rolls of labels. It is, in its own way, perfect.
The Place — The Slate, the Calcareous & the Detective Work
Samuel's vineyards are not a single estate. They are a network of rescued plots scattered across the provinces of Málaga and Granada — a patchwork of altitudes, orientations, soils, and varieties that he has assembled through years of detective work: driving through the countryside, talking to old farmers, locating abandoned vineyards whose owners could no longer work them but did not want to see them die. "In natural viticulture, we try to work with old indigenous varieties. This has meant moving around the countryside a lot, talking to older people and locating old vineyards whose owners are unable to work but would like to keep them." He makes agreements with them, cultivates them with their help, and produces wines that carry the identity of each specific plot. He never mixes musts from different vineyards. Each plot has its own voice.
Montes de Málaga — Slate & the 80-Year-Old Teacher
The Montes de Málaga is Samuel's current focus — a mountainous area near Colmenar where the soils are slate — pizarra — a stone that allows roots to plunge deep, does not crack in summer drought, and produces fruit of extraordinary concentration and aromatic intensity. Samuel works roughly 4 hectares here, and it is here that he met Paco Chinchilla — an 80-year-old farmer who has spent his entire life making wine in the Montes. "Él tiene 80 años y lleva toda la vida en los Montes de Málaga haciendo vinos, me está enseñando mucho sobre los Montes, los trabajos en las viñas, la elaboración de los vinos tradicionales de los Montes." Paco is Samuel's mentor, his link to the pre-industrial wisdom of the region. Together, they are making wines that taste like the mountain: fresh, aromatic, and deeply rooted.
Mollina — Calcareous Soils & the Young Rapagón
Mollina sits on calcareous soils — a different geology from the slate of the Montes, producing wines of a different character. It is here that Samuel makes Rapagón — the name means "young, beardless boy" — from Moscatel and Pedro Ximénez grapes. The vineyard is on flat land, mostly mechanisable, which allows Samuel to produce a wine at a lower price point without sacrificing quality. The calcareous soil gives the wine a distinct minerality, a chalky freshness that balances the aromatic intensity of the Moscatel. It is Samuel's most accessible wine, but it is not simple. It is, as he says, "un vino joven, sin barba, pero con mucho que decir."
Axarquía — Sedella, Cómpeta & the Moscatel Mothers
In the Axarquía — the eastern comarca of Málaga, a landscape of steep terraced slopes that have been cultivated since Roman times — Samuel works two small plots of roughly half a hectare each in Sedella and Cómpeta. These are hand-farmed, inaccessible to tractors, and planted primarily with Moscatel — the grape that has defined Málaga's sweet wine reputation for centuries. But Samuel does not make conventional Moscatel. He makes Dulce — an exquisite natural sweet wine that expresses the terroir of the Axarquía without the industrial processes that have commodified the region's most famous variety. The plots are tiny, the work is backbreaking, and the result is a wine of extraordinary concentration and emotional depth.
The Lost Varieties — Rome, Montúa, Calona, Uva de Rey
Samuel's obsession is not merely with places but with grapes that time tried to bury. Rome — used historically to give colour to blends. Montúa — which gives body and structure. Calona and Uva de Rey — names that appear only in the memories of the oldest farmers. These are not varieties you will find in catalogues. They are varieties you find by knocking on doors, by listening to stories, by tracing the lineage of a vineyard that was planted before anyone kept records. Samuel has devoted his life to this detective work — not merely to prevent the vineyards from disappearing, but to benefit from the wealth that the land and those who work it bring. "In the past, people used to plant different varieties together. It may seem chaotic, but it made sense, because then they would blend the musts to make the wines to their taste, as if each family had its own label."
Winemaking — The 0,0,0 Philosophy, the Veneer & the Year in Bottle
Samuel's cellar philosophy can be summarised in three numbers: 0,0,0. Zero added sulphur. Zero selected yeasts. Zero filtration. It is not a marketing slogan. It is a contract with the drinker, inherited from his family's vino del terreno and refined through formal enological training. "No soy pionero, porque es como se hacía el vino del terreno antes, pero como bodega y con las ideas muy claras si, de hacerlo '0,0' como se dice, sí." He is not a pioneer, he insists, because his grandfather was already making natural wine. He is merely the first generation to formalise it, to label it, and to send it to London, New York, and Copenhagen.
The winemaking is deliberately artisanal. Everything in the Coín warehouse is done by hand — from the treading of grapes in the lagar to the destemming, pressing, fermentation in plastic tanks or wooden barrels, racking, bottling, and labelling. Samuel is a one-man band, though he insists he is not alone: "Ahora mismo estoy solo, pero no estoy solo…" He has growers, suppliers, an accountant, and his partner Beatriz Pérez Giménez, who spends afternoons preparing consignments for Switzerland. But in the cellar, it is his hands that move the wine.
His approach to clarification is radical: no filtration. "In natural viticulture we don't filter because we understand that in filtering we lose aromas, identity and nutrients. We clean by decanting." The wines are racked repeatedly, moved from barrel to tank to barrel, allowing sediment to settle naturally. Even the whites are aged for a full year before bottling — an extraordinary patience in a market that demands immediacy. This extended ageing ensures that the wines are stable, transparent, and brilliant — a direct refutation of the assumption that natural wine must be cloudy, unstable, or flawed.
For his ancestral sparkling wines — six of his fifteen references — Samuel bottles the must before fermentation is complete, allowing the wine to finish fermenting in the closed bottle, trapping natural CO₂ without dosage, without exogenous yeast, and without the industrial machinery of the Champenoise method. He cites Fernando Angulo of Sanlúcar de Barrameda as his reference for this technique. The result is a sparkling wine of extraordinary freshness and salinity — a burbuja that tastes like the Mediterranean mountain rather than the Champagne cellar. Samuel also uses veneer closures instead of cork for some wines — including still wines — because he believes they better preserve the wine's characteristics and prevent unwanted evolution. "The wines are alive, especially these ones."
The Wines — From the Beardless Boy to the Sweet Mountain
Bodega Viñerón produces approximately 10,000 bottles a year — a figure Samuel hopes to expand to 30,000 — across a range that includes dry whites, ancestral sparklings, reds, orange wines, and a sweet Moscatel of extraordinary rarity. Because the estate is not bound to any Denominación de Origen, all wines are labelled as Vino de España — a freedom that allows Samuel to blend, experiment, and bottle without the constraints of a region that still thinks wine should be fortified and filtered. The labels, designed by the Málaga studio Tiquismiquis Club, use numbers to indicate altitude and colours to indicate wine type — a mathematical poetry that reflects Samuel's scientific training and his artistic intuition.
Viñerón "Rapagón Blanco"
Dry white — MollinaThe estate's entry point and most emblematic wine — a dry white made from Moscatel and Pedro Ximénez in the town of Mollina, on calcareous soils. The name Rapagón means "young, beardless boy" — a wine of youth, freshness, and immediate pleasure. Fermented spontaneously with indigenous yeasts, aged for a year before bottling, and cleaned by decanting rather than filtration. The nose is heady and aromatic — white flowers, citrus, and a touch of Mediterranean herb. The palate is fresh, zesty, salty, and persistent, with a chalky minerality that speaks directly to the Mollina soil. It is Samuel's most produced wine, deliberately priced at ~€15 so that it can appear on restaurant lists at a reasonable price. Zero sulphur, zero filtration, zero fining.
Viñerón "Rapagón Ancestral" / "Burbujas"
Ancestral-method sparkling — MollinaA brilliant, salty ancestral sparkling from Mollina — the same Moscatel and Pedro Ximénez base as the still Rapagón, but bottled before fermentation completes so that the wine finishes its journey in the closed bottle, trapping natural CO₂ from the grape's own sugars. Fermented for one year in bottle — an extraordinary patience for a pet-nat. The result is a wine of light, easy-drinking effervescence, brilliant yellow hue, and a thirst-quenching salinity that makes it impossible to stop at one glass. Samuel cites Fernando Angulo as his reference for this technique, but he has made it his own — a sparkling wine that tastes like the Andalusian mountain rather than the Champagne chalk pit. Zero sulphur, zero dosage, zero exogenous yeast.
Viñerón "Alto Jaboneros"
Red — Montes de MálagaA red wine from the Montes de Málaga — sourced from roughly 4 hectares of slate soils near Colmenar, farmed with the guidance of Paco Chinchilla, Samuel's 80-year-old mentor. The wine is a profound expression of high-altitude Andalusian red: fresh, aromatic, and deeply mineral, with notes of sour cherry, wild herbs, and the slate-derived graphite tension that defines the Montes. Fermented spontaneously, aged in wood, and bottled without filtration. It is a wine that proves red wine can exist in Málaga — not as an imitation of Rioja or Ribera, but as an authentic voice of the mountain. Medium-bodied, with vibrant acidity and a long, savoury finish. Zero sulphur, zero filtration.
Viñerón "Dulce"
Sweet Moscatel — AxarquíaAn exquisite natural sweet wine from two tiny hand-farmed plots in Sedella and Cómpeta — roughly half a hectare each — in the steep, terraced Axarquía. Made from Moscatel grapes grown on impossible slopes, harvested by hand, and vinified without the industrial processes that have commodified Málaga's sweet wine tradition. The wine is concentrated, complex, and profoundly aromatic — orange blossom, honey, dried apricot, and a distinct mountain freshness that prevents the sweetness from becoming cloying. It is Samuel's most expensive wine at ~€47 — a price justified by the backbreaking labour of farming terraces inaccessible to tractors, and by the emotional depth of a wine that carries three generations of family tradition. Zero sulphur, zero filtration.
Viñerón "1301"
White — AndalusiaA white wine from Vigiriega — one of the most endangered indigenous varieties of Andalusia, rescued by Samuel from near-extinction. The number 1301 refers to the altitude of the vineyard — 1,301 metres above sea level — a detail that reflects Samuel's scientific precision and his belief that altitude is as important as latitude in defining a wine's character. The Vigiriega is fermented spontaneously and aged with the same zero-intervention discipline as the rest of the portfolio. The result is a wine of crystalline freshness, white stone fruit, and a saline finish that speaks of high-altitude viticulture in a region more commonly associated with heat and sugar. Extremely limited. Zero sulphur.
Viñerón "Veneran"
Red — AndalusiaA red wine of serious structure and depth — the name suggesting reverence, respect, and the long view. Sourced from Samuel's best slate parcels in the Montes de Málaga, this cuvée represents the pinnacle of his red wine production: extended maceration, careful extraction, and ageing in wood until the wine finds its own equilibrium. The nose is of dark cherry, smoked earth, wild thyme, and slate. The palate is full-bodied but fresh — the altitude and the Atlantic proximity preserving an acidity that is rare for the latitude. A wine for cellaring, for contemplation, and for those who understand that Málaga has more to offer than Moscatel. Zero sulphur, zero filtration.
Viñerón Orange / Oxidative Whites
Skin-contact & oxidative — VariableSamuel's experimental edge — cuvées that explore skin-contact maceration, oxidative ageing, and the boundaries of what Andalusian white varieties can express when left to their own devices. These wines change with the vintage and the vineyard: some are short-maceration oranges from Moscatel, others are long, oxidative whites that develop complex notes of dried fruit, nuts, and honey. The common thread is zero additives and total creative freedom. These wines are not always available. When they are, they sell out immediately to collectors who understand that Samuel's experiments are not gimmicks but genuine inquiries into what the forgotten varieties of Málaga can become when no one is watching. Zero sulphur, zero filtration.
Viñerón Experimental Ancestrals
Ancestral sparkling — VariableBeyond the Rapagón Ancestral, Samuel produces a stream of experimental sparkling wines that push the boundaries of the ancestral method: single-varietal ancestrals from Rome or Montúa, blends that incorporate red and white grapes, and cuvées that explore different lengths of bottle ageing. At one point, six of his fifteen references were ancestral sparklings — a testament to his fascination with the method and his belief that Andalusia's indigenous varieties are uniquely suited to sparkling wine production. The altitude, the freshness, and the natural acidity of the mountain vineyards give the wines a structural backbone that is rare in southern Spain. These are among the most sought-after wines in the portfolio. Zero sulphur, zero dosage.
Legacy — The Detective, the 0,0,0 & the Warehouse That Conquered the World
Bodega Viñerón matters because it is one of the most vital and personal wine projects in contemporary Spain — the work of a 36-year-old oenologist who, from an unmarked warehouse with a blue door on an industrial estate in Coín, makes wines that are served at El Celler de Can Roca, celebrated at Duck Soup in London, and snapped up by distributors in the USA, Canada, Denmark, Switzerland, Belgium, Germany, and France. In a region where natural wine is still an exception rather than a norm, Samuel Párraga has proven that Málaga can produce wines of extraordinary clarity, authenticity, and emotional depth — wines that taste like slate, like 1,301 metres of altitude, like the 40 days his grandfather waited before touching the wine.
His legacy is agricultural. By rescuing Rome, Montúa, Calona, Uva de Rey, and Vigiriega — varieties that existed only in the memories of octogenarian farmers — by farming them by hand on terraces too steep for tractors, and by making plot wines that never mix musts from different vineyards, Samuel has created a living archive of Andalusian viticultural biodiversity. His two half-hectare plots in Sedella and Cómpeta are not merely vineyards. They are monuments to a tradition of polycultural farming that the modern world has almost erased.
His legacy is also methodological. The refusal to filter, the year-long ageing of whites before bottling, the use of veneer closures instead of cork, the 0,0,0 absolutism — all of these choices reflect a mind trained in modern enology that has deliberately stepped backward into tradition. Samuel knows exactly what sulphites do. He knows exactly what selected yeasts achieve. He has studied the chemistry, worked in Napa, learned from Mark Angeli in the Loire. And he has chosen, with full knowledge, to do none of it. "La calidad de la uva se iba perdiendo con cada proceso. Perdía toda la gracia."
And his legacy is philosophical. Samuel does not believe he is inventing anything. He believes he is refining what his family already knew — that the best wine is the one that needs nothing, that the vineyard is the boss, and that the risk of natural wine is enormous, which is exactly why almost nobody makes it. "El riesgo al hacer vinos naturales es enorme, por eso casi nadie los hace." He accepts the risk. He accepts the lost vintages — like 2023, when drought destroyed his white production, and he transformed the failed wine into vinegar rather than throw it away. He accepts the one-man-band exhaustion, the invoices, the quarterly VAT, the emails. And he accepts the joy when Josep Roca tells him that he loves the wines and buys them for his restaurant. "Que Josep Roca te diga que le encantan y los compre para su restaurante es increíble."
From the lagar of Colmenar to the warehouse of Coín, from the 40-day rule to the 0,0,0 philosophy, from the lost varieties of the Axarquía to the slate of the Montes de Málaga, Bodega Viñerón is a testament to what happens when a young man decides that the grandfather is older than the appellation, that the warehouse is truer than the château, and that the best way to make wine is to add nothing, take nothing away, and wait. The detective has spoken. The vineyard listens. And the drinker is transformed.