The wine is a piece of past sealed with a cork. Open a bottle, have "a taste of Piemonte" and remember your own story.
Everyone who has lived abroad has experienced it: the occasional longing for home that comes unexpectedly, like a cold or headache, and can only be cured by the warmth and comfort of a familiar fragrance or flavour.
As an Italian in the Netherlands, it is no different for me, and whenever it happens, I always cook one of my mother’s recipes (yes, la mamma!) and open a bottle of wine from my home region, Piemonte.
I don’t believe in the common idea of drinking to forget. It’s just the other way around: I drink to remember, because the wine is for me a piece of the past enclosed in a bottle. A familiar, comforting story written several years ago that I can open, taste and savour.
Wine is made of the stories of people, families with their passions, knowledge and traditions, stories of hard work, dreams, pain, love, hope. In one word: life.
Life sealed with a cork and left to mature, allowing time to blend men and nature.
These are the stories I want to tell, so you can open a bottle, have a taste of Piemonte and remember your own story.
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