A Letter From Rebecca

Dear Friend,

Pull up a seat.

I have a favorite quote. And although the words are not mine, they resonate deeply with me:

"Eat at a local restaurant tonight. Get the cream sauce. Have a cold pint at 4 o’clock in a mostly empty bar. Go somewhere you’ve never been. Listen to someone you think may have nothing in common with you. Order the steak rare. Eat an oyster. Have a negroni. Have two. Be open to a world where you may not understand or agree with the person next to you, but have a drink with them anyways. Eat slowly. Tip your server. Check in on your friends. Check in on yourself. Enjoy the ride."

—ANTHONY BOURDAIN

The imagery these words evoke – these words with sentiments I wish to make my own – remind me how powerful writing is. Words are living, breathing artifacts that connect us. They bridge us through time.

For this reason, I'll always be a writer first and foremost.

I also love to cook. Nothing fancy. I'm an entertaining enthusiast. I love setting tables and curating menus around themes. I savor that moment of exhilarating calm right before guests arrive.

I get nervous before I host any kind of party. It’s true. It's like orchestrating a show – one that I always feel an overwhelming sense of pride and responsibility putting on.

But I simply set the table and cook. You bring the stories, and for that, I’m indebted to you.

For me, dinner parties are theater. It’s traveling around the world without leaving your seat. It’s picking up a book that you just can’t put down and need to tell everyone about at the same time. It’s putting another log on the fire to fuel stories of grand adventures. It’s bringing back to life people who you wish still had a seat at the table.

I learned at a young age that the best way to make friends is to offer people food and drink. It's that simple.

If you want to make new friends, simply ask someone if they like to eat or drink. Start there. If they say no, send them my way. I love a good story.

I’m thrilled to introduce you to Starboard, a Port wine for the American dinner party. I’m hopeful that just by reading this letter, you feel a slight curiosity to discover or rediscover Port with me.

Perhaps, after reading this letter, you may feel inclined to ask about it the next time you venture out to your local wine shop. Perhaps you gift a bottle of Port to the hosts of the next dinner party you attend. Perhaps you ask the next person you talk to what they think about Port.

Let’s start a conversation about Port.

Let’s see what happens when we uncork Port together.

Cheers,
Rebecca

p.s. Check out the #drinkport podcast to join the conversation