The purpose of 2011 My Wine Story is that all Argentina’s wineries tell, in no more than 150 words, all kinds of anecdotes: personal, related to harvests, vintages, travels, fairs, wine launches, business meetings, among others.
Works must be sent from 12th September to 7th October. Consumers will vote the best anecdote by clicking the “Like” button on Facebook, appearing at the bottom of each note. The deadline to vote is Friday, 21st October, 2011, at 12 pm (Argentina). The anecdote getting the highest number of “Like” will be the winner.
The award ceremony will offer surprises and a great party in mid-November.
For further information, please contact Pablo Ponce (firstname.lastname@example.org).
We instantly associate women with white wine; gentle, delicate, soft. But, my grandmother and his sister-in-law were red wine women; tough and strong. With the early death of their husbands, Catalina and Yolanda didn’t surrender. Quite the contrary, these women, young and beautiful, who owned a winery, went against all the stereotypes that a sexist [...]
The name Altos Las Hormigas (Ants’ Heights) has provoked curiosity since it was first created.
When our estate vineyard was planted in 1996, we faced a stiff altercation with the local ant colonies. The newly-planted vines provided tender sprouts that the ants couldn’t resist. We refused to poison the ants and started looking for [...]
Margarita, who works in the production area in the winery, told us that one sunny and quiet morning of June in which everything was going well, she went to her office and found a lot of important documents thrown on the floor and filled with stains… at first she could not understand what had happened [...]
In 1945, the post-war crisis brought financial chaos and desolation, and everything was heading for a loss of production. To renew hope, Los Toneles winery called the local bishop, who blessed the establishment invoking the protection of the Virgin of Carrodilla, Patron Saint of Vineyards. The ceremony was officiated on the cask 22 (naming the [...]
They arrived at Rivadavia, where a fellow countryman, Don Gargantini, stretched out a hand and Giuseppe broke both gardener hands doing hard work, and I, almost one hundred years later I write this with my hands, last shoots of those roots. But let’s get back to the story, where I don’t play a part, until [...]