
We Don’t Host Wine Tastings. We Bring Back Conviviality
Why I Don’t Call Them Wine Tastings
After the Last Glass Is Empty
There are moments after one of our events, when the last guests have left, the empty glasses are still on the table, and the room has finally become quiet, that I sit down and think about how lucky I am to do what I do. People often thank me for the evening and tell me how much they learned, but the truth is that I am usually the one leaving grateful. I am grateful because every time strangers come together around a bottle of wine and leave as friends, I feel like I have brought a little piece of home with me.

Why the Word “Tasting” Never Felt Right to Me
Perhaps that is why I have never been comfortable calling what we do at Above Wines a "wine tasting." The words never seemed right. They sound too clinical, too simple, almost as if the purpose were merely to evaluate what is inside the glass. But wine, at least the way I grew up with it in Southern Italy, was never about the glass itself. It was always about the people sitting around it.
Convivialità — The Heart of Wine
There is a word we use in Italy that I wish everyone could truly understand. The word is convivialità, or conviviality. It is a beautiful word, but even that translation doesn't capture its soul. Conviviality is not simply being social. It is that feeling when nobody wants to leave the table. It is your grandmother insisting that everyone have another plate of pasta. It is your uncle telling the same joke he has told for thirty years, and somehow everyone laughs as though it were the first time. It is sharing stories, speaking over one another, opening another bottle because the conversation is simply too good to end.
To me, that is what wine was created for.
What I Have Seen Change in the Way We Experience Wine
And over the years, living and working in the United States, I have noticed something that has always made me a little sad. Somewhere along the way, many wine experiences have lost that spirit. Wine has become intimidating. People worry about saying the wrong thing. They are afraid they don't know enough. They think they need to smell twenty aromas or memorize complicated words in order to belong. Sometimes I feel that wine has become more about proving something than about enjoying something.
And I think that is a shame, because nobody in Italy gathers around a table to impress each other.
They gather because they love each other.
Memories From Home: Where It All Started
I often think back to evenings when I was young. Friends would show up unexpectedly. Somebody's mother would start making pasta. Someone else would bring bread. There was no plan and no special occasion. A bottle would be opened, then another, and before anyone realized it, hours had passed. Nobody was looking at the clock. Nobody was taking pictures of every course. We were simply together. Looking back now, I realize those were some of the richest moments of my life, and not because of the wine itself, but because of the people who shared it with me.
Turning Wine Into Understanding, Not Intimidation
That is what I hope to recreate every time I walk into someone's home or host a wine dinner. Yes, I love talking about wine chemistry. I spent years studying enology and viticulture, and I still get excited discussing volcanic soils, acidity, tannins, and fermentation. But I have never believed that knowledge should make people feel excluded. In fact, I think knowledge should make people feel more comfortable. I love watching someone who arrived saying, "I don't know anything about wine," suddenly light up when they understand why a wine tastes the way it does. I love hearing questions and stories. I love when people interrupt me because they remembered something from a trip to Italy or because they disagree with me. I especially love when everybody starts laughing so much that we forget what time it is.
What People Tell Me After Our Experiences
People sometimes ask me what makes our events different, and honestly, I don't think it is because I am a winemaker or because we have access to incredible wines from small family producers. Those things matter, of course, but I believe what makes them special is something much simpler. We create space for people to slow down. We give them permission to enjoy themselves. We remind them that wine doesn't belong to experts. Wine belongs to everyone.
One of the greatest compliments I receive is when people tell me, "Aldo, tonight didn't feel like a wine tasting." Some tell me they felt as though they had spent an evening in Italy. Others say they haven't laughed like that in years. Many have become friends and loyal supporters of Above Wines after attending their first event, and I never take that trust for granted. Reading their reviews and hearing their stories means far more to me than medals or scores ever could, because I know they are talking about something deeper than wine. They are talking about connection.
There Is No Right Way to Host
And maybe that is why I always tell people not to be intimidated about hosting an event. There is no right way to do it. Some of my favorite experiences have happened with friends sitting on the couch, eating pizza and drinking wine straight from the bottle. Others have been elegant dinners with multiple courses and candlelight. Neither is better than the other. Hospitality has never been about perfection. It has always been about making people feel welcome.
An Invitation From My Table to Yours
So if you've been thinking about gathering your friends, celebrating an anniversary, hosting a birthday, bringing your team together, or simply creating an excuse to slow down and enjoy life, I hope you won't overthink it. My team and I would be honored to help you create something that feels authentic to you. It doesn't have to be fancy. It doesn't have to be expensive. It just has to bring people together.
Because at the end of the day, after all the bottles are empty and the dishes have been cleared, nobody remembers every tasting note.
They remember who they were with.
They remember how they felt.
And if everyone leaves with a smile, feeling just a little closer to one another than they were when they arrived, then I know we have done something beautiful.
Why I Will Always Call Them Experiences
Perhaps that is why I still refuse to call these wine tastings.
To me, they are experiences.
And in a world that seems to move faster every day, perhaps what we all need a little more of is that old Italian spirit of convivialità, the simple joy of gathering around a table, sharing stories, and remembering that life is meant to be lived together.
Salute a voi!
If You’re Thinking About It, Let’s Talk
If reading this made you think about your own gathering, even just a small dinner with friends, a birthday, a team night, or simply an excuse to bring people together, then I would genuinely love to hear from you.
There is no pressure with us. No obligation. No complicated process.
Just a conversation.

We’ll talk about what you have in mind, the kind of atmosphere you want, the people you’re inviting, and we’ll build something around that. It can be as relaxed as friends sitting around a couch with pizza and wine, or as elegant as a multi-course dinner with full service. Most of the time, the best events are the ones that feel the most natural to you.
My team and I take care of everything, but more importantly, we make sure it feels like your evening, not a scripted event, not a performance, just something real, warm, and memorable.
So if you’re curious, even slightly, reach out.
We’ll be happy to chat, share ideas, and help you understand what’s possible.
And if it doesn’t feel like the right fit, that’s completely okay too. Wine should never feel forced.
But if it does come together, I can promise you one thing from my heart:
we will create something people will remember for a long time.
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Tonight, I’ll probably open something simple. Maybe from the south.
Something that reminds me why I started doing this in the first place.



