If you’re reading this post, it’s probably because you know me. Thank you for being here.

Today is the Feast of St. Martin, or Martinmas. Catholic tradition knows Martin, Bishop of Tours (France, not the synonym for journey), who was canonized as patron saint of beggars and outcasts, and known for his generosity and gentleness. European Christian communities mark the day with regional flair — like bonfires, children’s sunset lantern walks, special pastries, and variations on a feast of goose or duck.

There’s secular importance to the date too — and yes, it includes lots of wine. Until a few centuries ago, 11 November was Old All Hallows Eve, when the harvest season ended and winter began. It was also around the time when the year’s first wine was ready! Germanic and Slavic countries are especially good at keeping wine in their feast day activities:

• Austrian winegrowers end their year on 11/11, sometimes with a wine tasting;
• In Croatia, wine must (considered impure) is ‘baptized’ before anyone can drink it;
• Czechs drink Svatomartinské víno, the year’s first wine, with their roast goose;
• Slovenes welcome the Wine Queen at a St Martin’s festival in Maribor, where viticulture takes centre stage;
• and Portugal traditionally celebrates by eating chestnuts and drinking new wine around a bonfire.

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Now, turning inward.

I’ve rewritten this first post several times, hoping to find the right tone or describe the past few months of internal monologue. It was happenstance I could connect today’s cultural observance with a small bit of wine storytelling. And that’s what I like to do: research, connect, write, share.

My story? The truth is there’s no story to tease out and share other than “I’m walking down this vineyard path because I really, really want to.” I didn’t have a eureka moment, there’s no compelling narrative… it’s simply what Dan Keeling of Noble Rot describes as “an ongoing series of illuminations that inspires vinous thirst.”

Sometimes, you just know. Or: sometimes you have a powerful suspicion and want to keep exploring. That’s what I intend to do, wine glass and spit bucket near. I’m a woman who feels comfortable plotting my way into this industry, which I see shedding its decades-long tradition of gatekeeping and keeping a laser focus on fine wines. I’m fortunate to live in a city where making personal connections is easy and fun collaborations happen all the time. Wine is not astrophysics nor heart surgery; there are infinite paths to arrive.

Until I do arrive, I’m molding my perspectives on the wine industry at large and filing away the more granular bits — the things that set people apart, like favourite regional grapes or producers — by reading and trying whatever I can get my hands on. My formal training, the WSET level 2, begins mid-January. I fully expect to move on to WSET level 3 later in 2026; with that achieved, many more doors may open.

Most importantly, I think I’ll have fun figuring this out. I’ll stay curious and humble (I don’t know what I don’t know), keep expectations real, and enjoy the ride. This time next year, I hope to look back and think, “What a joy!”