Is Mexican Nebbiolo… Actually Nebbiolo?

The mystery of Nebbiolo de Baja lives on. Plus: travel tips for visiting Valle de Guadalupe.

May 29, 2026

(Illustration: Ryan May for Wine Enthusiast)

Back in March, I spent a few wonderful days in Valle de Guadalupe in Baja, Mexico. I adore Valle de Guadalupe. It’s such a unique place and, from a travel perspective, it’s among my favorite regions to visit. A few years ago, I wrote a feature about the challenges of making wine in such a dry place for San Diego Magazine.

On my latest trip, I was on assignment for Wine Enthusiast, in an attempt to unravel the mystery of Mexican nebbiolo. You can read my article here.

One gorgeous spring day in Valle de Guadalupe, as a band played a romantic Mexican folk song, I tasted two Nebbiolos under a 450-year-old oak tree at Casa Magoni winery. Or perhaps I should say I tasted one Nebbiolo and one “Nebbiolo”—in big air quotes.
I was with the 85-year-old winemaker Camillo Magoni, who poured two different bottlings. First, his 2016 Nebbiolo Clone 34, grown from vines native to Valtellina in Italy’s Lombardy region, where Magoni was born. Next came his 2019 Nebbiolo de Baja. The difference was stark: Clone 34 had the light color, finesse, and rose and cherry notes of a young Piemontese Nebbiolo. The Nebbiolo de Baja was darker, more muscular, and more brooding. I enjoyed both, but the question was unavoidable: How were these two wines from the same grape variety?
Other Baja winemakers are more blunt about their skepticism toward the so-called Nebbiolo that grows in Baja. “Some people say that it’s Dolcetto or Lambrusco,” said Lulú Martinez Ojeda, winemaker at Bruma, one of Valle de Guadalupe’s most highly regarded producers. “All I can say is it’s not Nebbiolo. I love it, but it’s not Nebbiolo.” Martinez Ojeda says a Mexican-American sommelier in New York once asked about her wine, “So is this Nebbiolo, or is this Nebbio-cholo?”
So, if the Nebbiolo in Valle de Guadalupe is not really Nebbiolo, then what is it?

You’ll have to go to Wine Enthusiast to get the answer of that question, but suffice to say that Nebbiolo de Baja is quite different from what you’d recognize in Italian wines made from it, like Barolo or Barbaresco.

Like most up-and-coming wine regions, Valle de Guadalupe has struggled to find a signature grape. The region’s drought conditions and heat lead to a lot of experimentation, and many vineyards grow chardonnay and cabernet sauvignon. Some grow very good chenin blanc. Some believe Rhône varieties like mourvèdre and grenache do best. Others veer toward Spanish varieties like tempranillo. Others still insist on Italian grapes like sangiovese, montepulciano, and aglianico.

But for now, the signature grape in Valle de Guadalupe is nebbiolo. Or “nebbiolo” as the case may be.

My Travel Recs for Valle de Guadalupe

Clockwise: Bloodlust wine bar; the view at Bruma wine resort; Finca Altozano; Fauna restaurant, Lulú Martinez Ojeda at Bruma; Solar Fortún.

If you’ve never been, I strongly recommend that you make a wine and food journey to this part of Mexico. Valle de Guadalupe stretches northeast from the Baja coast, near Ensenada, less than two hours’ drive from San Diego. It’s a perfect two-to-three day trip.

Taste: If you have a couple of days, prioritize these wineries: Bruma, Casa Magoni, Lechuza, Solar Fortún, Bodegas Henri Lurton, Madera 5, and Viñas de le Erre. Also, check out Baja Divina (right next to Finca Altozano) a wine shop with a good selection of smaller production wines curated by sommelier Lauren Plascencia.

Drink: Have you ever sipped natural wine in a bar shaped like a head of garlic? Well, you can and you should at a wine bar called Bloodlust.

Eat: Seafood fresh from the nearby coast is generally a can’t-miss in Valle de Guadalupe. Dinner at Fauna (#17 among Latin America’s 50 Best restaurants), overlooking Bruma’s vineyards, is a must-do. Chef David Castro Hussong’s menu is always changing, and this video shows what I ate on my last visit:

At Javier Plascencia’s mainstay Finca Altozano, there was a fabulous lunch of bluefin tosada and lamb birria. Javier Plascencia’s flagship restaurant, the Michelin-starred Animalón, is a more modern take on Mexican wine country cooking, with more international fare of foie gras, sea urchin, lobster ravioli, or perhaps beer-braised barbacoa, wrapped in a banana leaf, steamed and smoked in a pig's bladder, and served tableside—dramatically, under a 200-year-old oak tree.

Wineries such as Casa Magoni and Solar Fortún are nice spots for casual al fresco lunches. In my Wine Enthusiast piece, I already talked about Casa Magoni’s lovely courtyard, tasting and eating under a 450-year-old oak tree. I’ve also really enjoyed the marlin tacos and salpicón de pulpo while tasting wines at Solar Fortún.

Stay: If you can afford it, stay at Bruma winery’s exclusive and beautiful resort. Even more exclusive is the six-room Hotel Partana. For a more budget option, I’ve also enjoyed Casa Entrevez at a fraction of the price.