Dear Friends,
“We can’t guarantee we’ll leave you money when we’re gone, but we can guarantee you some education.” – Mom
That’s what my mother told me growing up. My mom and dad are still very much alive, but that phrase stuck with me. It was their way of explaining why, from an early age, I was sent to an American school (in Colombia) — so I could learn English. (Thank you, Mom and Dad.)
As a non-American, Thanksgiving wasn’t exactly part of my culture. But because I went to an American school, I’ve been celebrating it since I was a child. Maybe it was the pumpkin pie. Maybe it was the sense of gratitude baked into the day. Whatever it was, it stuck with me.
And here I am, thousands of miles away from those first Thanksgiving tables, writing to you from Paris. This year, there’s no turkey for me—just a glass of wine and some time with my uncle.
Back in the U.S., Americans will eat roughly 46 million turkeys today. That’s about 1,000 every minute.
An astonishing figure for a bird that spends most of the year in obscurity, only to be thrust center stage for a single day. A symbol of Thanksgiving—big, bold, unapologetic.
Turkeys, like Thanksgiving itself, are a gamble. One day, one shot, no dress rehearsals. You brine, roast, and carve… then hope for the best.
Legends are born out of Thanksgiving success stories. For me, I decided to stay away from the oven.
I’ve had my share of catastrophes. Burnt skin. Dry meat. One year, I even forgot to thaw the thing.
By now, you might be in my favorite part of the holiday—the aftermath. The dishes are done. The house is quiet. You’ve got a cold turkey sandwich in hand, leftovers spread across the table like a second feast.
And in that moment—whether you’re surrounded by family or savoring the calm after the storm—I hope you pause.
Thanksgiving isn’t really about the food, after all. It’s about sharing. A story. A laugh. A toast.
So here’s mine: Thank you.
Thank you for inviting me into your lives, your homes, and your celebrations. Thank you for trusting me to bring you wines that, I hope, make those moments even more memorable.
Tonight, I’ll raise a glass to you. To family. To friends. And to that solitary turkey—whether it’s a masterpiece or a well-meaning disaster.
And as the day winds down, I’d love to hear from you. Share your photos, fun stories from the table, or even the wines you opened and enjoyed. There’s nothing better than seeing how these moments come to life.
Cheers,
Diego
