You’d think there would be many more wineries like Casa Ferreirinha around, but there aren’t. Large-scale for the area, Portugal’s Douro, though medium-sized compared to regions with more space for expansive holdings, Ferreirinha is a family-run operation that imparts a light, human touch even to its most widely loved wines.

That alone doesn’t make Ferreirinha, a division of the A.A. Ferreira company best known for the port wines of Porto Ferreira, stand out. Nor does the company’s long, rich history, although it is in large measure the history of the port trade itself. No, even if your patience for the romance and folklore of wine is short, your appreciation for the approachable breadth of its lineup should be long.

This is what makes Ferreirinha surprisingly rare: They produce wines all along the price spectrum, white and red, and each one I’ve drunk is exceptionally good. Each is distinct from the others, yet produced from native grapes in a recognizable style so that taken together, the wines provide a compelling and comprehensive portrait of a place, a family of varietals, a group of artisans, an outlook.

If I were a winemaker, I would aspire to this sort of success, rather than what is most often recognized and rewarded: one or two extraordinary wines that can climb onto the top lists at astronomically expensive restaurants and auction calls.

This sounds banal – drink these wines, they’re red and white and taste good and cost a variety of prices – so let me ask anyone reading this to provide similar examples, from anywhere in the world. Your winery must meet the following criteria:

• Four or five wines from $10 to $20, or four to seven from $10 to $65.

• At least one wine must be a different color from the others.

• Use exclusively grapes indigenous to the region the wines are from.

• Employ farming and vinification practices that aim to reveal the native intelligence of the grapes and soil, rather than hide their details.

• End up with a selection of wines useful in the real world, from value-driven (as distinct from cheap) “Tuesday nighters” to special-occasion dinner parties to truly cellar-worthy wines.

TOUGH CRITERIA

Off the top of my head, I can think of a few wineries in Piedmont, Italy, whose combination of white arneis and favorita/vermentino, and reds from barbera, dolcetto and nebbiolo gives them a solid second-place finish. But no Piemontese winery makes stand-out wines for under $15. Likewise Friuli.

France’s Loire Valley is endlessly diverse at prices low to high, but the nature of its soils and culture dictate that no single winery produces noteworthy wines both white and red.

Same goes for Greece. Same for the Jura (where wines cost more, too), and usually for Alsace. Chile could make a strong showing, but usually its grapes are “international” varietals such as cabernet sauvignon, pinot noir and sauvignon blanc, not native.

Roussillon in southern France, maybe you’ve got someone up your sleeve? In my experience your picpouls are not quite interesting enough and your reds are often too ripe, but I expect to be hearing from you.

What am I missing? There must be a winery somewhere that can do this thing that seems so simple!

Until I hear of one, I will drink Casa Ferreirinha. What yokes the wines together is texture. The wines taste great, for sure: each one balanced and well integrated, dry, delicate and lively with stabs of intriguing fruit and forest flavors.

But there are lots of great-tasting wines. What makes a wine memorable for me is its weight in my mouth, where it falls on the spectrum of porous to dense, the level of saturation, the extent to which acidity cooperates with sheen. And even if your first reaction might be, “Wait, it’s hard enough to figure out what a wine tastes like and now you want me to figure out how it feels,” the texture of a wine is what determines pleasure.

Texture has a far greater effect than taste on whether you enjoy a wine or merely drink it. Casa Ferreirinha wines are terrifically enjoyable. Things come together in them, in every sip, because of feel. They are creamy, silken wines, but always with bright zesty pokes for balance.

It’s easy (though expensive) to throw copious oak at a wine in order to render it smooth and creamy. But the three-dimensional, saturated velvet of Casa Ferreirinha wines, especially when punctuated by refreshing qualities and wrapped around alcohol levels of just 12.5 to 13.5 percent, cannot be due primarily to the oak in which some of them spend a relatively minimal amount of time. Instead it’s the usual benefactors: right grapes in right place with right climate, tended and processed with right intention.

It’s an interesting time to make (and drink) unfortified wines in the rugged, steep mountainside vineyards of the Douro, which for most of its history was directed entirely toward port. Most of the port producers now make dry wines as well. Some of these are serviceable, others are legendary.

DONA ANTÓNIA

Probably the most lauded of all is the Barca Velha, a wine made by Casa Ferreirinha only in the best years; fewer than 20 vintages have been made since it was introduced in 1952.

The energy and imagination involved in bringing Barca Velha to life came from the diminutive woman, Dona Antónia Ferreira, after whom Casa Ferreirinha (the “little Ferreira”) is named. Dona Antónia, widowed at 33, was a larger-than-life figure in early- to mid-20th century Douro, both a fearless entrepreneur and beloved community-minded citizen. She built roads, hospitals and schools in what was a terribly bleak part of the world, and she built her family’s winery, which began in 1751, into the internationally statured house it is today.

So yes, there’s history and romance, and the tales of hardship and triumph that are basic to any traditional wine region. Forget all of it for now, and just try the wines.

As noted on the rear labels of all but the Esteva, they should be decanted. Not only are they not cold-stabilized and therefore throw some sediment, they’re also complex enough to transform significantly after contact with oxygen. (Really, decant them. Simply popping the cork in advance is insufficient.)

All the reds are blends of tinta roriz, touriga nacional, touriga franca and tinta barroca.

The white is a dizzying mix of even more distinct varietals.

The Esteva 2013 ($11) is Casa Ferreirinha’s simplest wine, fermented in stainless steel, fresh and fruity. Full, deep cherry flavors, soft tannins, subtle acidity. Everything is humble, in its place, appropriate, willing to contribute without fanfare to the whole. There’s vanilla and black pepper, and the soft tones of cherry liqueur, and a touch of dust on the dry finish.

The Papa Figos 2013 ($15) is a significantly more complex wine, the one that first showed me the winery’s uniquely saturated, chewy textures. The dense, coating feel in the mouth provides an amphitheater for autumnal drama, with flavors of leaves, damp tobacco, dry thyme, purple fruits. A cranberry sort of acidity cuts through. After long maceration in stainless steel with vigorous pumping-over, some of the wine ages in French oak barrels for under a year, to knit together and smooth out tannins. Truly distinctive.

Casa Ferreirinha’s Planalto Reserva 2014 ($13) is a gorgeous, elegant white wine. My notes from first tasting it read “baby Condrieu,” a reference to the incomparable viognier wines of France’s northern Rhône, which mingle stonefruit flavors with mineral depth to jaw-dropping effect. I stick by that. This blend of viosinho, malvasia fina, gouveio, códega, arinto and moscatel is fermented in stainless steel and remains enduringly fresh because of it, but there’s still that silky roundness so typical of the Casa’s wines. Peachy, peary, intensely floral and stony to the core, this is a $20 dry white wine in disguise.

My story ends with the Vinha Grande 2012 ($18), though it needn’t: the Quinta da Leda 2009 is available for $65. I haven’t yet sprung for it, so satisfied am I exploring the less expensive options, but I owe it to myself and to Ferreirinha itself to set aside a fund for a bottle.

The Vinha Grande, though, serves me so well for now. Its tannins are certainly more pronounced and bristly than any of the other wines, though they’re already approachable. But they signal an ability to age another 10 to 15 years.

This is the richest, most saturated of the Ferreirinha wines I’ve drunk, but still deliciously balanced and just 13.5 percent alcohol. Its intensity is elongated by earthy porcini flavors, and offset by a piney, resin quality, and fresh black pepper. The wine undergoes a maceration and pump-over treatment similar to that of the Papa Figos, though with more of the wine spending more time afterwards in used French oak.

Life is varied, and Casa Ferreirinha addresses the fundamental need to be of service to it.

I look forward to hearing your suggestions of other wineries that answer this noblest of calls.

Joe Appel is the wine buyer at Rosemont Market. He can be reached at:

soulofwine.appel@gmail.com