Today, it’s not enough for a wine to be pleasant to the taste; we want to know who produces it and its history, where, with which techniques and grape varieties, and in what materials it is aged. We want to imagine drinking that glass in the land where it was born, perhaps in the very company of the person who conceived it.
We want to close our eyes and think about the microclimate of those lands, almost touching the soil where the vines are rooted. Breathe in the traditions, learn about the customs, habits, and art of those areas.
To be successful, a wine must excite and be talked about.
Wine speaks. Everyone knows it. Look around. Ask the fortune teller on the street corner, the uninvited guest at the wedding feast, the village idiot. It speaks. It’s a ventriloquist. It has a million voices. It loosens your tongue, reveals secrets you should never have told, secrets you didn’t even know you knew. It shouts, it declaims, it whispers.
“Nothing would have been possible if I hadn't put in a lot of effort and had the good fortune to have met absolute masters along the way.”
