A Report From Wine Explorer Diego Samper – Birth Year Wine
Paris, France
“Plant a tree, write a book, have a child.” José Martí’s old line has chased me for years—part pep‑talk, part checklist.
A friend once warned, “Start with the kid and you’ll never get to the rest.”
So I flipped the order. Not intentionally, but it worked.
First came the mangosteen—fifteen patient years before it fruited and the nieces raided the branches.
Then came the words—weekly, endlessly—not quite a book, but a body of thought that built slowly, until your inbox sighed under their weight.
Sunday night in Paris, box three arrived screaming.
Our baby. Nine pounds of new human. Mom was surgical‑steel brave through a C‑section; I played spectator—useless, weeping, promising the moon.
A small but strange coincidence: the hospital sits at Rue Casablanca 7. My all-time comfort film is Casablanca (1942). That line—“We’ll always have Paris”—hits differently now.
The morning after, the ward still smelled of disinfectant and croissants.
That’s when the big questions landed:
What should I read to him? What should I teach? How do you plan a life for someone who’ll rewrite every plan?
The internet spat ten million answers in half a second.
I went analogue: phoned the tribe—friends, family, even their own kids. Went to dinners. Enjoyed those last nights of no-kid life.
When the signal’s noisy, trust the voices you already respect.
The replies piled up—serious, ridiculous, unforgettable:
- Surf lessons. Horseback rides. A proper Argentine asado.
- Beatles 101—chronological, mono cuts first, “A Day in the Life” last.
- One summer on a Kiwi farm, dirt under the nails, accent optional.
- A standing “get-out-of-jail” number—every family needs a fixer.
It’s turning into a guerrilla encyclopedia: culture, mischief, practical survival, all crowd-sourced over good bottles.
(Decent bottles matter; nobody ever solved life over bad wine.)
“That kid’s 2025 vintage is gold—start hoarding,” one sommelier texted.
Finca del Monte, Tacana, Tacuil, Sunal—none harvested yet, of course, but when they drop, grab a case; build a vertical.
A winemaker friend leveled-up: “I stockpiled ’11s for my boy. At eighteen we start pulling corks.”
Another friend took it further: bought a whole barrel in Mendoza—custom blend, bottled when the twins could barely toddle.
We cracked one at a backyard asado last year—wine was good; the story was priceless.
How often do you get to drink your own birth year? I’ve never tasted mine.
And they only get more expensive every day.
So I’m hunting cooperages. A full barrel, a custom blend—just for the little one.
Something to age with time, open slowly, and stretch across milestones.
Yield: 280 bottles of bragging rights.
- Family is important. Not because it’s easy—but because it teaches you how to love through difficulty.
- Friends become the family you choose.
Here’s what I want him to know so far:
- Books open portals. Classics first—philosophy, history, mythology.
- Music deserves a front row. It’s not background noise; listen like it matters.
- Screens lie about urgency. Occasionally ignore them and the world keeps spinning.
- Coffee + Sunday paper equals religion; everything else can wait till Monday.
- Pets teach empathy. Clean the litter, walk the dog—no shortcuts.
- Manners still count—please, thank you, eye contact, firm handshake. Old tech, still works.
- School is for critical-thinking drills. Grades are nice; curiosity is non-negotiable.
As long as the kid is happy, he’s another drop toward a better world.
The world won’t change through grand gestures, but through small, decent moves—quiet progress, passed from hand to hand.
This club has shaped part of my life too—so why not ask you guys?
So, if you’ve got advice for our baby—heartfelt, absurd, or both—I’m all ears.
Some of you have been lobbing wisdom into this inbox for three years. Don’t stop now.
Or if you’re just curious about the barrel idea—how it works, how to do it, or how to put something aside that ages well—write me at explorers@bonnerprivatewines.com.
Tell me what you’re drinking. What you’re reading. What wines you’re saving for someone’s future—even if they haven’t taken their first sip yet.
Cheers,
Diego Samper
The Wine Explorer
P.S. If you’ve been thinking about putting aside a birth year wine for someone special, the Tacana Torrontés is worth a look—rare, high-altitude, and built to age beautifully. You can see it here: Tacana Torrontés.