Dear Wine Club Readers,
Growing up, I was captivated by Anthony Bourdain. Whether you know that rebel chef for the famous New York restaurant, his articles in The New Yorker, his bestselling book, or his TV show, Bourdain had this incredible knack for storytelling, blending travel and cooking with his unvarnished, "tell it like it is" attitude, weaving personal anecdotes and reflections into the narrative.
Since the anniversary of his death is coming up this Saturday, June 8th, I wanted to share an anecdote that I think captures a bit of the soul of what he did on his travel shows.
As a teenager, I dreamed of following in his footsteps — cooking, traveling, trying new foods from all over the world. I had no idea how I'd make it happen, but the aspiration was always there, fueled by Bourdain's adventures on screen. Now, thanks to you guys, I get to live out that dream in my own way, scouring the globe for incredible wines to bring back to your tables. And whenever I can, I try to share the stories behind them, to answer your questions and offer a glimpse into the world of wine. That's why I'm always thrilled to hear from you; your curiosity keeps me going.
Recently, I found myself back in Paris for another round of trying to rewire my brain with a bit of French. It's never easy, but hey, there are worse places to be. The views, the architecture, the food, and of course, the wine — it's a city that never disappoints.
Last Friday, we ended up at a little bistrot I love called Verre Vole. I actually first discovered it through one of Bourdain's shows, and it turned out to be the perfect setting for a very Bourdain-esque encounter. The place is one of those classic Parisian spots where the walls are plastered with bottles, books, and posters, the stairs to the bathroom are so steep they could sober up Keith Richards, and the tables are crammed so close together you're practically dining in your neighbor's lap. But that's the charm, right? In Paris, that's just another Friday night.
My better half and I were there to wrap up our week over a bottle of Chablis (my favorite way to drink Chardonnay). It's got that Burgundian elegance, all crisp acidity and restrained fruit. After our main meals, we ordered some seasonal fruits with cream for dessert, which caught the attention of the guy dining solo next to us. He ordered one for himself, and I offered him the last splash of wine from our bottle. My girlfriend looked at me with a bit of surprise. I later explained that I often dine solo during my travels, so I’ve gotten good at talking to strangers. Why not offer him a glass? Turns out, he was American.
We got to talking, and then he dropped a bombshell: he was supposed to be here with his girlfriend, and he was planning to propose to her this weekend. This dinner was supposed to be a romantic night with her, but her flight got delayed, so now he was just piling up nerves. His name was Brian, and he worked in advertising in New York. His girlfriend, Hiba, had gotten an assignment at the Brooklyn Library that was supposed to last only a year, and then the idea was to move back to Paris. But then her work got extended for another year, and suddenly, their lives were split between two cities, an ocean apart. We ended up sharing this beautiful conversation with him — maybe it was the wine, maybe we just took his mind off the looming question for a bit. But it all started with a pour of Chablis. A bit of what Bourdain always shared in his shows — the cultural aspect of food, the breaking bread, you know?
That's the power of wine, isn't it? It brings people together. And that's what this club can be about. It's fun when you find people to share stories with.
I've always said this wine club isn't for everyone, and I'm okay with that. We're not here to please the masses, just the ones who are curious about what's in their glass, who want to expand their wine horizons. This club is for the lifelong learners, the ones who are always eager to discover something new.
That dinner in Paris is one of the unintended consequences of this little operation that brings me the most joy — the thought that if we all sat down to dinner together, any of us, we'd have a hell of a time. Because that's what wine is about, for me. Sharing. Connecting. Finding your tribe, one glass at a time.
So here's to you, my fellow wine geeks. And here's to Bourdain, who passed away on June 8, 2018, but whose spirit of adventure and storytelling lives on. Keep swirling, keep sipping, and keep spreading the gospel. The masses can have their grocery store grape juice — we'll be over here savoring the good stuff, and the tales that come with it.
Diego Samper
P.S. I heard back from Brian, the American we met at Verre Vole. He reports that she said yes! Here's to love, to new beginnings, and to the serendipitous moments that bring us together over a shared glass of wine. Cheers!
