For more than twelve years, wine was part of my professional life. As Sales Director at Castell d\u2019Encus and Ferrer Bobet, I had the privilege of representing two projects I deeply admire\u2014traveling across our region, visiting restaurants and shops, taking part in fairs, and sharing many bottles with clients, sommeliers, distributors, and friends.<\/p>\n\n
However, when you work commercially with wine, it\u2019s hard to fully separate the bottle from everything around it. Alongside the landscape, the grape variety, the vintage, or the emotion it can convey, there are also commercial targets, distribution channels, market positioning, price lists, sales, and results. Even when you taste a wine you like, part of your mind is already thinking who you could introduce it to, which wine list it might fit on, or what argument would help explain it better.<\/p>\n\n
I\u2019m not saying this as a criticism. Selling wine has given me some of the best moments of my professional career. It has allowed me to meet extraordinary people, understand the effort behind every bottle, and discover that marketing a wine also means taking on the responsibility of representing a team\u2019s work and the identity of a place.<\/p>\n\n
But when wine stops being your job, does something change?<\/p>\n\n
Now I choose bottles with more freedom. I no longer need to justify every choice or think about whether a wine follows a trend, whether it sits in a certain price bracket and how it compares to the wines I used to sell, or whether it fits a commercial narrative. I can choose it out of curiosity, because I\u2019m drawn to a grape variety I don\u2019t know well, because I trust the person who made it, or simply because I think it will pair well with that moment or that meal\u2014and with the people I\u2019ll share it with.<\/p>\n\n
I\u2019ve also learned to value wines that have something to say. I\u2019m not necessarily looking for technical perfection or the bottle most celebrated by wine gurus. I still like precision, elegance, and subtlety, of course, but today I place more importance on identity, honesty, and that small imperfection that sometimes turns a wine into a memorable experience. There are flawless wines you soon forget, and others that, without being perfect, make you think again about the place, the vintage, or the person you shared them with.<\/p>\n\n
As a winelover and a tasting host, I still enjoy talking about wine. But I try to do it in a different way. Over the years I\u2019ve understood that sharing knowledge shouldn\u2019t be about showing everything we know, but about helping others enjoy the living matter in their glass more. The language of wine can be precise without feeling distant or pedantic. You don\u2019t need to identify every aroma in a wine or master specialized vocabulary to be moved by a glass. Sometimes it\u2019s enough to ask ourselves whether we like it, how it makes us feel, and who we\u2019d like to share it with.<\/p>\n\n
That\u2019s probably what\u2019s left of wine when you no longer have to sell it: curiosity; the landscape it comes from; the people who made it; and the pleasure of discovering. The ritual of opening a bottle with no expectation other than having a good time. The conversation that grows around it, and the memory it leaves when the glass is already empty.<\/p>\n\n
And what remains, above all, is the freedom to come back to it without haste or pressure, without goals and without having to convince anyone. Just the desire to keep learning and to let, from time to time, a bottle surprise you.<\/p>\n\n
I sell less wine now than I used to. But I\u2019m convinced I\u2019m listening to it in a different way.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
What\u2019s left of wine when you no longer have to sell it? Ignasi shares how the way he chooses, enjoys, and listens to a bottle changes when commercial goals disappear and all that remains is the freedom to be surprised.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":3163,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[73],"tags":[75,74,59,76,77,56,78],"class_list":["post-3162","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-a-perspective","tag-good-wine","tag-opinion","tag-palate","tag-scores","tag-taste","tag-tasting","tag-wine"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/vesunai.es\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3162","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/vesunai.es\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/vesunai.es\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vesunai.es\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/5"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vesunai.es\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3162"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/vesunai.es\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3162\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3455,"href":"https:\/\/vesunai.es\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3162\/revisions\/3455"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vesunai.es\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3163"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/vesunai.es\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3162"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vesunai.es\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3162"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vesunai.es\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3162"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}