Published Sun, May 03, 2026
There’s a certain mythology around mothers—endless, giving, selfless to a fault. But the women we know, the ones we drink with, work with, lean on, are more dimensional than that. They hold contradiction well. They make space where there isn’t any. They insist on small pleasures, even when time feels rationed.
For Mother’s Day, we wanted to speak to someone who understands that tension—between care and selfhood, between ritual and reality.
Rachel Signer is a writer, editor, and one of the most thoughtful voices in contemporary wine. Her work has long explored the emotional and cultural weight of what we drink. Now, as a mother (to little 6 yr old Simone), that lens has shifted—subtly, profoundly.
We asked her about time, taste, and what remains when everything changes.
Motherhood is often framed as sacrifice, but what has it given you – creatively, emotionally, even in how you approach wine?
Last night, I watched my daughter and one of her peers dance like lunatics to “Gangnam Style,” while we adults sipped Pinot. We were laughing so hard we nearly fell off our chairs. My daughter’s presence is often like a shining star in my world, reminding me of pure joy, movement, and light amidst my worries.
Your writing often connects wine to broader cultural & emotional landscapes. How has motherhood shifted what feels worth writing about?
The shift is wanting to write more about what makes us human, more broadly. Not just how a particular wine is made, but how wine represents ancient culture, how it belongs in the realm of ritual and community.
There’s a kind of radical slowness in both natural wine and early motherhood. Do you see parallels there?
I love that idea and I wish I could relate to it. But both natural winemaking and motherhood, and the two of them together without a support network, can feel overwhelming in today’s world. The slowness is the ideal, the vision, but often the reality is running from one thing to the next.
The wine world hasn’t always made space for mothers. Have you felt that shift at all in recent years?
I wish wine fairs and events could be more family-friendly. I’ve had my daughter sitting on the floor below my table while pouring wine, and I know other women in wine have done the same. It’s very difficult to focus and enjoy. Women now are doing more than ever in history, across all professions. What if natural wine led the way, and provided childcare at public, professional events, so that women could just be winemakers for those five hours?
What rituals, big or small, help you stay connected to yourself amid the demands of motherhood?
Journaling in the afternoon, before school pick-up. Long walks with the dogs in the evenings. Doing Wordle with my daughter while we’re waiting for dinner to be ready. And reading—I am lost when I’m between novels; reading relaxes me and takes me away from my phone.
If you could share a glass with your pre-mother self, what would you pour – and what would you tell her?
I’d pour her a glass of Pācina’s “La Cerretina,” a small-batch blend of Malvasia and Trebbiano made as an orange wine, and I’d say: Listen to yourself, because your intuition knows best. Whatever it says, give into that.
How do you hope Simone understands wine culture when she’s older? As pleasure, as craft, as community?
I think Simone will eventually look back on her childhood and realise that it’s astounding how well she understood fermentation, physics, chemistry, and machinery at such a young age. I think she will see wine as one of the world’s oldest artforms, and understand how important it is to keep it going alongside other artisanal crafts, as life becomes increasingly saturated by technology.
Has motherhood sharpened or softened your palate, or other?
I became a super-smeller in pregnancy and I think it never quite went away. I’m much better now at tasting wine, but it’s also different. Blind tasting, I might not even bother guessing the exact variety, but I would be quick to tell you what the winemaker’s intentions were, if it’s an expensive wine for aging, and how it’s meant to be drunk.
What’s currently in your glass, and why?
I’m waiting for a special moment to open a bottle of Strange Grapes Muscat of Alexandria from Chile’s Itata Valley. I’ve had something from Strange Grapes before and it was a very memorable wine. Recently, I ran into the winemaker Alice l’Estrange at Lumen People in Melbourne, and we had a beautiful chat about natural winemaking, career struggles, and family life. She gifted me this bottle after our chat. I love when a wine comes with that sort of spontaneous connection and sense of generosity—it’s the way it’s meant to be.
