I was recently by myself having lunch in Düsseldorf, Germany, on the shores of the Rhine River—sharing a table outside with strangers and eating chopped bratwurst with curry sauce from a food truck while drinking an Altbier. The air was crisp and the sky overcast, but the budding star magnolias on...
As many of you know, Argentina is very close to our heart. My brother Felipe and I spent some of our most formative years there. It is a place and a culture of turmoil and freedom, of disorder and striking beauty. It is a place that, in many ways, feels...
Wine is a solace. Wine is a pause. Wine is a vast field under the sun and a soft spot of grass under the shade. Wine is rain on parched land and sunlight after the storm. Wine is a truce and a herald of light that speaks of better places....
This compilation of letters have come to be my favorite corner of our website, which we have titled “In Search of el Duende.” The title is, of course, a nod to Spanish poet Federico García Lorca, who worked, perhaps more than anyone, to communicate the meaning of duende, a term that has...
The table is one of the most familiar and intimate objects of our life. But familiarity often hides meaning, as we don’t really ask questions about familiar things in the way that we ask questions about strange ones. We are used to them and therefore we don’t wonder what they...
“Vamos de vermuteo,” (let’s go vermouthing) is one of the sweetest things one can hear another say after a long day of work, or on warm Saturday night or on a lazy Sunday afternoon. The good people of Southern Europe, but especially Madrid and Barcelona, have turned this sun-soaked activity into...
To say something is “drinkable” often sounds as if one is saying that it is barely palatable. Instead, winemakers and critics often favor adjectives like nuanced, complex, subtle, sublime, layered, deep, unique, etc. And there is nothing inherently wrong with these adjectives. The problem is that they oftenreflect a preference for...
It is said that when travelers arrived to visit the great philosopher Heraclitus in his home, they were astounded at finding him sitting in his kitchen. They stood on the doorway, perplexed at seeing him in such a humble place. But he invited them in saying, “here too the gods are...
Beauty always persists. And despite the chaos, we can never forget Leonard Cohen’s reminder that “Even damnation is poisoned with rainbows.” In fact, it is the darkest darkness that makes light shine ever brighter. This is why the simple things, from a passing interaction with another to a morning view...
Citizenship, Wendell Berry wrote in 1968, “requires devotion and dedication, and a certain inescapable bewilderment and suffering… But it begins at home.” For him, this meant, quite literally, the care of one’s home and family, one’s relationship to nature and community. Polarization is, in fact, the result of a perversion...
The past few weeks have been a cacophony of emotions. From uncertainty and fear to comradery and hope, we have been forced—as a town, as a state, as a country, and as a world—to reevaluate our most fundamental assumptions about the edifice that we have built and to adjust to...
