A Report From Wine Explorer Diego Samper – The worst thing in your next wine glass
Paris, France
The worst thing in your next wine glass is not the wine.
It’s pride.
The guy who makes you feel small for asking a question.
The shop clerk who thinks drinking only wine from France makes him more “authentic.”
Last week, after I wrote about what I’ll teach my son, you wrote back in force.
Be patient. Live by example. Expose him to as much as possible so he can find what he loves. One of you told me about buying two bottles of your grandkids’ birth year wines to open when they get married. Another wrote that the idea of a barrel sounds fun. I agree.
It’s nice to see some alignment in thinking between us. Not because we are seeking comfort, but because we are not here to convince each other about something.
The little guy is growing. I can tell from the lung expansion at 2 a.m. His mother is recovering well. My mother-in-law is here as backup. We are grateful for that.
And reading your messages reminded me: the things that matter in life are the same things that matter in wine.
One of them is being humble.
The wine world does not need more snobbery. We live in a globalized world. You can drink from a hundred different soils without leaving your city. To pretend there is only one “right” way to enjoy wine is not tradition. It is arrogance.
This week I went into a wine shop and asked what they had from around the world…
“I don’t know,” the man said. “I only drink wine from France.”
I pointed to a Torrontés from Argentina sitting on his own shelf. I tried to explain why I thought it was worth trying. In fact, if you have never had our Tacana Torrontés, you should. Crisp. Aromatic. Bursting with the smell of orange blossom and lime peel. A mouthful that’s all sunlight and clean mountain air. A bottle that makes exploration worth it.
He refused. Almost rude. I did not mind. I have passed the stage where that bothers me. But I thought, he is young. There is no trust between us.
Wine, for me, is not just about enjoyment. It is about exploration. About asking, “What’s this?” and taking the sip. Life too is like that. Enjoyment and exploration.
My mother taught me that. She made me try everything once. Artichokes were one of those lessons. A leafy trap to a kid. I tried them. I loved them.
Pride can close doors you never even see. That is why I say “I don’t know” all the time in the wine world. It throws people off. But I would rather ask the so-called “annoying” questions because I care. I want to know where the wine comes from. I want the story. Not to waste anyone’s time, but to hear what lights them up when they tell it.
Maybe that is why younger people are turning away from wine. We have buried it under posturing and stripped away the genuine invitation. Instead of “Here, try this,” we hand them a rulebook.
Care builds trust. The “I told you so” talks can come later. First, you build the bridge.
Our wine club exists for that. To explore without going off the rails. To open doors, not close them. We keep our selections tight because big inventories are the enemy. Too many bottles and it stops being wine. It becomes stock.
We do not stock wine. We share it. And the wines we share are made by people who care.
Because when a wine is made that way, you can taste it. And when you pour it for someone else, they can feel it.
Diego Samper
Wine Explorer
explorers@bonnerprivatewines.com