Wine culture on this plateau behind Valencia is ancient — the Iberian settlement of Kelin pressed wine here from the seventh century BC. Bobal's modern story is humbler: for a century the grape left anonymously through Valencia's port as blending wine and grape concentrate, deepening other regions' bottles and sweetening sangría, its own name appearing nowhere.
Neglect turned out to be preservation. Because nobody bothered to replant, old head-trained Bobal survives in quantity at 700 to 900 metres, dry-farmed on the meseta's chalky clay. From those vines a generation of growers now draws the discovery: blueberry-dark, fresh, faintly rustic reds with the altitude's cool spine — the plateau's dark secret finally bottled under its own name.