A Report From Wine Explorer Diego Samper
Boutique Wineries and the Art of Resilience in Winemaking
Saint-Georges-sur-Moulon, France
I’m writing from the Loire Valley, where the vines are just beginning to bloom. It’s May, and everyone’s watching the weather. One late frost—just a single cold night—can change everything.
We’re staying at a bed and breakfast tucked inside Château Saint Georges. There are no other guests—just us. It doesn’t feel like a hotel; more like staying in someone’s home. Ten rooms, paintings on every wall, a kitchen where the hosts will cook dinner if you ask.
The Château
We’ve had good wine, and even better conversations.
The father is a painter-decorator, though that doesn’t quite do him justice. He’s also an expert on Napoleon who’s consulted for Hollywood films. His son—who now runs the place—is a musician who designs watches in his spare time.
You can imagine our evenings: history, art, music… and, of course, a bottle of local pinot noir.
Our gracious host cooking dinner
This morning, over breakfast, we talked about the vines.
“You don’t plan a great harvest,” the father told me. “You hope for one.”
He raised his eyebrows when I mentioned we grow grapes at over 9,000 feet back at Gualfín. “At that altitude, you must hope harder than most,” he said, with his thick French accent, while he smiled.
That same truth echoes all the way to Argentina. The latest reports from the ranch say this year’s harvest was generous.
One of the old hands at the ranch once put it best:
“Señor… Dios aprieta, pero no ahorca.”
God may tighten the rope, but He doesn’t choke.
But that wine won’t be bottled for some time.
The wine that’s on its way to the U.S. now comes from a very different season.
Last year was rough—low yields across much of the valley. Not just for us.
In wine—like riding a bike—once you start, you have to keep pedaling. Uphill or downhill, you can’t stop. Increased tariffs, port strikes, taxes… you push forward.
We didn’t blend. We didn’t buy juice from someone else. We worked with what we had.
That’s what sets a boutique winery apart: when the harvest is low, we simply make less. The industrial players? They make up the difference with truckloads of grapes from wherever they can.
But like in baseball—three strikes and you’re out—we had already hit two…
And so, later this month, we’ll be releasing a small batch of Tacana 2023—the wine that started this club.
I can’t remember volumes this low since those early days, back when we weren’t sure if the whole thing would even work.
But the wine? It’s poised. Composed. The product of a hard year, handled with care.
If you’ve ordered from us before, you’ll get first dibs, as always.
If not, and you’d like to be among the first to know, let us know here or try a previous vintage.
Meanwhile, we’re here in France. Scouting new wineries. Knocking on cellar doors. Listening to stories.
We’ve seen lean years before. We’ll see them again. But we keep moving forward.
In wine, in life, you just keep pedaling.
Thanks for riding with us,
Diego