My memories with wine are many, but let me share a few stories that have fueled my passion for it.
The first goes back to when I was 18 years old. My grandfather strictly forbade us from drinking wine casually or finishing half-empty glasses. He insisted that wine deserved respect and attention; it could not be consumed like lemonade. Instead, it had to be tasted with intention, searching to detect and memorize the different flavors and textures it contained. For him, this was the only way to honor the wine and the men and women who worked the vines.
The second memory is tied to the soul of wine. I once had the privilege of tasting, almost religiously, a bottle of Château d’Yquem 1811. That’s when I realized wine isn’t just a drink—it’s a story, full of memories and moments from the past, all preserved in one bottle. Like art, wine leaves a trace on history, one that can be linked to a specific place and time—and by collecting it or drinking it, we can travel through time.
The region I admire most is Burgundy, with its timeless prestige, though I also love the more independent spirit found in the Jura, with its remarkable vin jaune. Rare parcels of wine often resonate with me as much, if not more, than fine watches. This is not only because of their rarity, but also because wine adds another dimension—one that you can taste. It’s something watches, for all their mechanics and beauty, cannot offer.
Wine has given me privileges and unforgettable moments, allowing me to share them with family, friends, and at times, perfect strangers.
