Tinta de Toro: the Spanish red that helped Columbus make waves

I am assured that this is not a legend. But a few years ago, an Irishman’s life was twice saved by a raging bull. The Irish fellow was running with the bulls at a town near Pamplona. He tripped and was virtually impaled. The bull’s horn went into one side of the chap’s stomach and out of the other. He was rushed to a neighbouring hospital, which was accustomed to bull wounds, and the surgeons saved his life. While they were doing so, the aeroplane that he should have been catching took off. There were no survivors.

Fifteen years later, the Irishman developed gut rot. One doctor wondered whether scar tissue from the horn wound might be causing the problem. So the patient was opened up. Scar tissue was indeed present and was excised, as was pancreatic cancer at a very early stage. Generally regarded as especially lethal, it is usually impossible to detect until too late. The man lived. So a bull rescued a human being from two mortal perils. In the glorious history of bullfighting, that is surely a unique occurrence.

With my friends Alice Archer and Alexander Woolgar-Toms, we were considering bulls the other evening, over some excellent Numanthia, wine from the Bodega of the same name. Its grape varietal is Tinta de Toro – Toro as in bull – and it is an exemplar of the Spanish character. Vines have been grown there since Roman times. But although the Romans imported the grape, the inhabitants of Numancia were not loyal subjects. Indeed, they seem to have been real-life versions of Asterix and Obelix. They fought hard in resistance to Roman domination and finally burnt their town rather than surrendering it.

Their intransigence may have come from the terroir.