Coffee, Wine, and the Return of Authenticity: What the Next Generation is Really Thirsty For
While pouring at a recent wine tasting, a young couple — newly minted at 21 — asked me something that caught me off guard:
“Are you also into single origin coffee?”
I smiled. Not just because I am into single origin coffee, but because that question unlocked a bigger conversation about something deeper than beverages. We talked about terroir — the wine term that means “a sense of place.” But we weren’t just talking wine anymore. We were talking about coffee, chocolate, cheese, and tequila. We were talking about intention.
What struck me most wasn’t just the curiosity — it was the why behind it. They didn’t just want something that tasted good. They wanted something with roots. With meaning. With identity.
And that’s when it really hit me:
The next generation isn’t disinterested in wine. They’re disinterested in what wine has become.
For decades, the market has been flooded with big-brand grocery store wines — engineered for consistency, mass appeal, and maximum shelf presence. Their back labels are often written by copywriters with no connection to the vineyard (I used to be one), and their “story” is usually little more than a marketing campaign.
But that’s not what this generation wants.
Younger consumers are choosing their coffee like they’re choosing their values. They want to know where it came from, who grew it, what makes it unique. They’ll pay extra for beans from a particular region of Nicaragua, roasted by someone they follow on Instagram, with tasting notes that remind them of orange peel and cacao nibs.
Wine is built for this kind of consumer — but we’ve hidden the good stuff behind outdated language, exclusivity, and gatekeeping.
Authenticity Isn’t a Trend — It’s a Rebellion
This new wave of drinkers doesn’t want generic. They want authentic. Not “authentic” in a focus-grouped, sustainability-washed, corporate bullet-point kind of way — but in the sense of people, place, and purpose.
And luckily, we have a whole world of winemakers doing exactly that.
On the American side of things, there are wineries that live this ethos every day:
• Pax Mahle in California’s Sonoma County, bringing elegance and restraint to Rhône varietals, while honoring both site and tradition. He also operates out of a co-op styled winery with MANY of his friends and protegées working out of the same facility in Sebastopol.
• Eden Rift, tucked into the Cienega Valley under Mount Harlan in California’s Central Coast, working vines with a soul and a sense of history (and a secret connection to their Burgundian ancestors)
• A Tribute to Grace, with wines that are as poetic and expressive as the name suggests — Grenache with gravity and grace. (This is one of the greatest producers of Grenache in the world and I will happily die on that hill)
• Terre Rouge, a Sierra Foothills legend that reminds us that California has layers and altitude and history.
• Lingua Franca, where Oregon’s complexity is spoken fluently by people who live in the vineyard.
• RGNY, biodynamically farming the North Fork of Long Island and moving their neighbors towards certified sustainability.
Call it rooting for the home team — but these are producers making wine that means something.
And across the Atlantic, we see the same energy from terroir-driven artisans:
• Domaine de L’Ecu in the Loire, where Muscadet becomes a philosophical conversation.
• Arianna Occhipinti, whose Sicilian wines are a masterclass in minimalism and expression.
• Champagne Chavost, shaking up tradition with zero dosage wines that put place before polish.
• Alta Alella, crafting Mediterranean wines with biodynamics and vision, just outside Barcelona.
There are so many more. But these names stand as proof: the future of wine belongs to those willing to let the vineyard speak, not the spreadsheet.
What We’re Really Tasting
When I pour wine at events, it’s the younger crowd — Gen Z and younger Millennials — who lean in. They ask about soil types. They want to know what altitude the vineyard sits at. They’re fascinated by how a foggy morning can change the flavor of a Syrah, or how volcanic ash might show up in a glass of Carricante.
And here’s the beautiful part: when they taste that story — when they get that herbal lift, or that stony note, or that whiff of wild earth — they remember it. That memory becomes part of the wine’s meaning. They aren’t just building palates. They’re building connections.
This isn’t about education. It’s about immersion.
The same way they choose music, art, and food, they’re choosing wines that feel intentional. Not because someone told them to — but because they want to participate in the story.
What Comes Next?
So what does this mean for wine professionals, brands, and storytellers?
It means we stop dumbing things down. We stop marketing to the lowest common denominator. And we certainly stop trying to make wine “cool” through trend-chasing.
Instead, we tell the truth. We celebrate the mystery. We lift up the makers and the places that are doing it right.
Because here’s the thing: we’re not competing with coffee or craft beer or mezcal. We’re part of the same conversation. We just need to remember how to speak their language — and maybe even let them teach us a few words along the way.
If you’re a winemaker who works with intention, or a buyer who cares about where your bottles come from — know this: there’s a generation out there hungry for what you’re doing. They’re just waiting for someone to pour the first glass and tell the story.
Let’s give them something worth tasting — and remembering.
Matt Uva is a wine educator and brand ambassador with over 25 years of experience in the wine trade. He founded Ghosts in the Cellar to share insights from a career spent working with terroir-driven producers, helping others deepen their understanding of wine through education and experience.
