 For the past 15 years, Rick and Mitzi Hobson of Corrales' Milagro Winery
have been quietly producing the Land of Enchantment’s best wines
By Ian McKay • Photos by Joy Godfrey
For those lucky few winos
granted the privilege of managing a restaurant wine list, the biggest
challenge, aside from hiding the purple-toothed, slack-jawed grins that
come from a long day of tasting, is to populate their lists with what I
call world-class wines. These are the wines that are blessed with the
rare combination of three distinct elements: the right grapes, grown in
the right location, with gentle guidance into the bottle by the caring
hands of a truly gifted winemaker.
Now, the market for world-class wines has plenty
of tasty offerings for the consideration of the most discriminating
palates when it comes to say, Alsatian Gewurztraminer, Friulian Friulano
or even Austrian Gruner Veltliner. But what is the poor wine buyer to
do about the sticky-sweet subject of New Mexican wines?
With the obvious exception of Gruet’s sparkling wines, which are undoubtedly some of the world’s best values, and unquestionably world class, are there any wines that the world, or at least its oenophiles shouldn’t live without? Miraculously, Yes.
Situated in Corrales, Milagro Vineyards has been, for the past 15 years, quietly producing the Land of Enchantment’s best wines. Gathering stylistic inspiration more from Bordeaux than Napa, Milagro, owned and operated by Rick and Mitzi Hobson, produces approximately 2,000 cases of wine from a constellation of vineyards that runs from the Corrales valley floor up to the slopes of Rio Rancho. Their truly fine reds and whites are aged in high quality French oak, feature a drawing of a monocled pig in a tux on their labels, and in my opinion are not as well represented in Albuquerque restaurants as they ought to be. So to try to change this scenario, I assembled a rag-tag bunch of misfit wine buyers from some of my favorite joints in town, including Rob Lemberger of Artichoke Café, Stewart Dorris of Farina Pizzeria & Wine Bar, Nathan Claiborn of Lucia in Hotel Andaluz and Jeff Seymour from Nob Hill Bar and Grill. Rounding out this motley crew was my colleague Julian Martinez, a consummate gentleman, wine expert and musician extraordinaire. Together we drove north to the gorgeously rustic, and newly completed tasting room to get to know Rick, Mitzi, their rescued Boston Terriers and their excellent wines.
 Upon arrival, Rick, emerging from his winery, kindly invited us in to tour his humble, yet impressive operation, and to learn what differentiates his wines from other New Mexican wines. While standing amongst myriad neatly racked barrels, the high-tech, temperature-controlled fermenting tanks looming over us and the various other accoutrement a vintner has at his disposal (in this case, a relatively modest amount), Rick pronounced humbly, but with authoritative conviction, “Wine is made in the vineyard. I’m a minimalist when it comes to wine.”
And although he was a chemical engineer in his previous life (a fact he’s reluctant to divulge), his approach to wine-making avoids the technological methods of meticulous analysis and manipulation currently dominating the international wine zeitgeist. Or, as he succinctly put it, “I was an engineer, but I try not to let it get in the way. You can get carried away by numbers, but in the end, what does it taste like?” He must have heard the meek, “cough” that rasped from our collective parched throat, as he interrupted his opine by observing, “You boys look thirsty. Enough talk, let’s taste.”
Mitzi, her eyes perpetually smiling behind lightly tinted spectacles, is probably the sweetest woman I’ve ever met. As she led us around their edible-landscaped patio adjacent to their tasting room, she explained that she and Rick rescued pot-bellied pigs for 22 years, that their pig Wilbur (the likeness of whom now graces their label) was their first, and that the two still rescue Boston Terriers.
And into the tasting room we went.
About 45 minutes later, this smiling six-pack of wine “professionals” emerged from the tasting room’s glass doors, which lead into the Milagro courtyard, buzzing, not entirely from the modest alcohol level of Rick’s legendary Chardonnay, nor solely from the intoxicating aromas that wafted from his mysterious Merlot, but more from the contagious excitement that comes from being around people so passionate about their life’s work, people who take so much pride in what they offer those around them and do so with a down-home sincerity that borders on bashfulness.
 Needless to say, everyone left pleasantly surprised, and committed to carrying Milagro wines in perpetuity (aside from Stew, whose list at Farina is exclusively Italian). Julian even ended up buying three bottles to take home (like I mentioned above, a consummate gentleman). I think I speak for all of us depraved lushes when I say that we left Milagro that day beholding a few new friends, a renewed sense of pride in New Mexico and a new outlook on our shared profession.
It’s true that wine shouldn’t be the by-product of detailed lab analysis. It is truly a craft of the soul. These are elegant wines that enliven food and conversation, not suited to our age of instant gratification.
Rick Hobson is a man of few words. Luckily his wines speak for him, and do so with an honesty and charm that reflect both the hands that nurtured them into bottle, as well as this Land of Enchantment we all share.
TASTING NOTES:
2007 Milagro Vineyards Chardonnay
Luscious ripe pear, spiced with anise and orange zest on the nose. A texture that’s at one moment creamy, the next almost silty. This is a graceful expression of an often over-gussied grape.
2007 Milagro Zinfandel
The nose is quintessential Zin spice: both piquant black pepper and sweet, savory allspice. Not jammy, but elegant. Notes of Earl Grey and pomegranate. Silky and long.
2006 Milagro Merlot
A dead ringer for Merlot’s ancestral homeland: the Right Bank of Bordeaux. Rich and mellowed — as it should be after 21 months in French oak — sanded down any hint of rough edges. Gorgeous garnet color. Warm aromas of black cherry and vanilla. Perfect balance of fruit, mineral, acid and tannin. After popping the cork, this wine lasted three days before it was polished off, only gaining in complexity and softening in texture. Could cellar for at least eight years, probably more.
Milagro Vineyards
Owners: Rick and Mitzi Hobson
985 West Ella NW, Corrales | 505.898.3998
Available for touring and tasting by appointment only
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