They steal to resell. However, given the bottles they do not steal, neither they nor their customers appear to appreciate the wine.

Wine is expensive, it’s true, but that’s no reason to steal it. Unfortunately, there’s little respect for the seventh commandment these days; these are times when very expensive bottles are at great risk: the other day – or rather, the other night – 10,000 bottles of Solaia were stolen from the Antinori cellar; last month, 3,000 fine bottles were stolen from the Conterno Fantino cellar; and in June, 3,000 bottles of Banfi sparkling wine vanished under cover of darkness… Also in June, at a restaurant in Milan, the target was Romanée-Conti: just 19 bottles, but a haul worth a whopping 280,000 euros. It is reasonable to rule out the possibility that these thefts are the work of destitute wine thieves, or of drinkers who steal to savour nectars they cannot afford.

These individuals steal in order to resell. They target restaurateurs and intermediaries, who in turn aim to sell to status-seekers: the wines in question are not for connoisseurs or casual drinkers; they are not chosen by those who love wine, but by those who love to boast. These individuals tend to be affluent, middle-aged men who are often champagne lovers and frequently Francophiles—a demographic often perceived as lacking depth. The term ‘Francophiles’ may seem misplaced, since Solaia is Tuscan, not French. I, on the other hand, consider it, if not French, then French-like: it contains French grapes (Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet Franc) and spends time in French oak barriques (the wine’s coffins). Even the prices are quite French: the latest vintage available, the 2023, is on sale for 386 euros. That is the amount for which I can purchase 38, 40, or perhaps even 42 bottles of my favourite wine: Lambrusco del Fondatore. A Sorbara that is refermented in the bottle, which nobody steals because wine thieves – and their customers – do not like it.