« He who knows how to taste no longer drinks wine, but savours secrets. »
January 2023. A Portuguese bottle, a few photos, a first article of 242 words. No one knew back then where this adventure would take us. Three and a half years later, the counter reads 65 published articles, 286 tastings shared on Instagram and hundreds of bottles opened — many of which will never see the light of a publication. It’s time to look in the rear-view mirror, to tell what has changed, what we’ve learned, and why Dalí’s quote sums up our journey better than anything: we no longer drink wine, we search for its secrets.
THE ORIGIN: A BOTTLE AND A DESIRE
It all starts with a simple gesture: opening a bottle and wanting to talk about it. Portugal had that honour, quickly followed by a Côte Rôtie, a New Zealand Sauvignon, a Luxembourg Pinot Gris that had literally thrilled us. In 2023, we published 49 articles — almost one a week. Short, spontaneous pieces, driven by pure discovery: more than 70 wines tasted that first year, escapes to Tuscany, Rioja, Savoie, Saint-Émilion.
Rereading those first articles today means measuring how far we’ve come. They overflow with enthusiasm, but stay on the surface: a colour, a nose, a palate, an emotion. It was already a lot. It wasn’t yet enough.
TWO SPACES, TWO WAYS OF WRITING
2024 marks the great pivot. The numbers speak for themselves: the blog goes from 49 articles to 11, then to 2 a year. At the same time, the average length explodes: from 300 words to more than 1,300. This isn’t running out of steam — it’s a redistribution of roles.
Instagram has become our tasting notebook: the spontaneous gesture, the emotion of the moment, the photo of the bottle on the table. 286 posts in three and a half years, a steady rhythm that tells of passion day by day.
The blog, for its part, has become something else: the space where we take the time to understand the complexity of the winemaker’s craft. Corks and their industrial secrets, blockchain in the service of traceability, drones and AI in the vineyards, the return of amphorae, winegrowing robotics, and recently organic and natural wines. Each article takes weeks of research, source-checking, and cross-referencing figures.
PASSION, TIME, TECHNIQUE
It’s not said often enough: writing about wine takes time. Not just the time to taste — that one is a pleasure. The time to trace a statistic back to its original source, to understand a winemaking technique before daring to explain it, to rewrite a paragraph three times until it rings true. Our analyses have become more precise because our standards have grown with us. The reader of 2026 no longer reads the same blog as the one of 2023 — and so much the better.
This precision comes at a cost: scarcity. Two to four articles a year instead of fifty. We chose depth, with no regrets. Our first-year review already pointed in this direction: to dig deeper rather than pile up.
AI ENTERS THE CELLAR
A blog called Wine and Tech’ owed it to itself to live what it writes about. Since 2024, we’ve been writing about AI in the vineyards — and for a few months now, AI has been working with us too. Managing and editing photos for Instagram and the blog, help structuring articles, cross-checking sources, proofreading: artificial intelligence has become a full-fledged writing assistant.
Let’s be clear on one point: AI has never tasted a single one of our wines. The tasting, the emotion, the choice of angles, the convictions — all of that remains deeply human. But for the rest, it saves us what we lack most: time. And that saved time, we reinvest exactly where no machine can replace us: glass in hand, facing a winemaker telling the story of their vintage.
THE WINES YOU NEVER SEE
Let’s do the maths: 286 Instagram posts, 65 blog articles. Roughly one tasting in four or five becomes an article. And even then — those 286 posts are themselves only a selection. Behind them are all the others: the wines tasted that appear nowhere.
It’s an editorial choice we’ve owned from day one: we only publish what leaves a mark on us. A wine that’s correct, well made, but without emotion? It won’t be on Instagram, nor on the blog. Not out of contempt — every bottle represents years of work, brave choices, sometimes an entire life devoted to the vine. Out of respect for that work, precisely, we prefer silence to criticism. And it has to be said honestly: the wines that truly leave a mark are rare. That is the whole difficulty — and the whole beauty — of this quest. If everything were exceptional, nothing would be.
We’ve also made mistakes: statistics taken up too quickly that had to be corrected, angles abandoned along the way, articles left at the draft stage. Every mistake has sharpened our method. Today’s rigour is the daughter of yesterday’s approximations.
WHAT NOW?
The adventure continues, and the schedule is already full. This summer, we’re heading to Provence: four estates are opening their doors to us between Ramatuelle and Pampelonne — organic, biodynamics, a new generation of winemakers, there’ll be plenty to write about. Come autumn, we’ll tackle a touchy subject: the carbon footprint of the bottle, between lightweight glass, bag-in-box and cans. Tomorrow’s wine won’t look like yesterday’s, and we’ll be there to tell the story.
Thank you to those of you who read us, comment, and share — on the blog as much as on Instagram. This passion would make no sense without sharing. See you at the next vintage.
🍷 And you — which wine has left a mark on you these past three years? Tell us about your finest discovery in the comments, and follow our tastings day by day on Instagram @wineandtech!
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