Time moved on, life changed, and some were left behind. My grandfather and my grandmother Elvira are no longer with us — but the vineyard remained.

Today, it is my father, Jacinto, who cares for it. He inherited the gestures, the rhythm and the knowledge passed down through generations. The method remains faithful to its origins: bush-trained vines, spur pruning, Fernão Pires and Trincadeira, simple fermentations guided by time and attention.

The wine is born from an unexpected meeting: white and red musts finishing fermentation together. A palhete — or clarete — generous, smooth, layered with red fruit and memory. A table wine, meant for food, for sharing, for home cooking — ideally alongside a bacalhau tiborna prepared by my mother, Jacinta.

Today, Jacinto’s red is more complex, more structured, more confident. Still evolving. Just like the hands that make it.

This is the story of my origins in wine.

But above all, it is the story of the wine that stayed.