A visit to Portugal's flagship winery.

”Fonseca” roughly translates to ”dry fountain” — which is a bit ironic considering that the name has been synonymous with wine for almost 200 years. It all started with José’s father, who cleverly took advantage of Napoleon’s occupation and its aftermath: with the fleeing of the nobility from Mr. Bonaparte, Rio de Janeiro became the Portuguese capital in 1807. This turned established trading principles upside down: until then, goods were sourced at a steep discount from Brazil and sold for a profit in Lisbon. Now, the money had to stay local, prompting the colony to be opened up to free trade. Fonseca Senior invested in tobacco, sold it to French soldiers, and established himself as an exporter. When church property was privatized in 1834, he acquired a vineyard in the fertile land of Azeitão at a favorable price for his son, José.

José gratefully accepted and, with the pragmatism of a trained mathematician, worked on a state-of-the-art operation. In hindsight, one might think he infused his vines with a DNA that inspired innovations in winemaking — let’s call it a blend of craftsmanship, economic goals, and integrated distribution strategy. Fonseca positioned sweet Moscatel as an alternative to Port and proved that Portugal could produce dry red wine as well. He was one of the first to bottle wine in glass bottles and a pioneer in marketing. A prime example is ”Periquita,” named in 1850 after the ”Parakeet Hill” where it’s grown. It’s considered one of the oldest wine brands in the world and is still found in every supermarket today. The originator of these ideas passed away in 1884; currently, the seventh generation reigns under the family name Soares Franco.

In the ”Wine Corner” next to the main house, you can sit comfortably, engage in wonderful food sharing, and sample 60 wines from the Fonseca estate.

Everyone in Portugal also knows brands like BSE and Lancers. Lancers is likely the brand that sells best internationally. In this case, it’s due to entrepreneurial savvy: during World War II, US soldiers discovered wine, and the Fonsecas found a new market overseas — perfect for the state-mandated adulteration of the Salazar era, neatly packaged in clay pots. Well, there’s also the opposite: ”Hexagon” is Fonseca’s foray into the market of very high-priced wines, which as of now doesn’t happen within the country itself.

It’s low-priced and consequently draws products accordingly. Assume that every other wine in the under-five-euro league at the corner supermarket comes from Fonseca or Bacalhôa, even if it’s not labeled as such. The price-to-quality ratio is at least decent.

A visit to the main house doesn’t give the impression of a billion-dollar conglomerate with production sites throughout the country and a sales volume that requires a lot of purchasing. On the contrary, the old villa with its large garden and a few warehouses is there to keep the company’s image alive in line with its history. They particularly like to tell the story of the yearly new wine barrel that travels around the world on the Navy’s school ship — supposedly, the storage in the humid-warm bow and the waves result in seven times faster aging. And now they’re also making beer.