The job was in Connecticut, a very cold area. I wanted to learn about selling wine and marketing wine now that I knew about the farming and making side. We made an off-dry Riesling and we bought in Cab from California and sold everything through the tasting room. While living there I was introduced to the world of fine wines with the owner and his friends. These guys were properly wealthy. I remember one of them saying at one of these tastings; ‘Men in suits work for men in pyjamas’. These were the pajama guys. They were so humble in sharing their wines. One of these guys would call me on a Monday and say, ‘I’m making bolognese and opening some Pomerol.’ And I’d get there and see three different Pomerols open. On any given night we’d be pulling out DRCs, Krug vintage champagnes, everything. And we’d talk about wine, not thinking about price – just judging each wine as either yucky or yummy. That philosophy just stuck with me. From a broke kid in Rawsonville not long before to tasting these wines week in and out, this was quite a gear shift. But it also makes me a bit less intimidated by the so-called rich crowd in South Africa because I’ll think about those guys and realise I’ve seen crazy wealth and understood what’s interesting about wine is beyond the price and the status and all that – wealthy or not, the joy is in the love of the drink itself.

I came back and got a job in Paarl for the ‘14 and ‘15 vintage but by then was really determined to enter the fine wine game, having just visited Burgundy, Champagne and the Loire Valley with Roxanne, Reenen and his wife. The real epiphany moment was a tasting at Domaine de la Chevalerie. The winemaker, Stephanie, opened an ‘89 and a ‘05 Cab Franc. When she pulled the cork of the ‘89 I could smell it even though she was five metres away. Those beautiful herbaceous flavours, the red and black fruit. Right then I decided I’d resign when I got back home. It was Geronimo time, time to take a leap of faith.

We thought we’d name ourselves after ourselves. I worried people would struggle to pronounce Van Loggerenberg but Roxanne reminded me that if people in Japan could work out some weird French surname we should be alright. Van Loggerenberg is my mother’s name.

Lukas von Loggerenberg Break a Leg Chardonnay - Hay Wines