Made In Piedmont Wines - Past, Present and Future.

Karina Imschoot, the past, present, and future of both Made In Piedmont Wines and Italia Incentives srl, where it all began

Yesterday I got a call from the Camera di Commercio Italia in Belgium, asking me how I actually ended up in wine and gastronomy tourism as well as wine import. There have been various “preliminary” phases and intermediate steps along the way. Ready for a compelling story? Here we go. A flashback to earlier times—but one thing really does lead to another.

After completing my studies as a business translator and interpreter in English and French, I studied German for two more years and took Italian classes at night school for five years. At home, we only watched RAI; the program *Eredità* was particularly educational.

Before becoming self-employed, I took on one job after another: an internship at the former RTT in Anderlecht, Assistant Manager for a German engineering firm (but I only stayed for three months—the boss was extremely aggressive), and three years working for The European Federation of Furniture Retailers. My main responsibility was organizing conferences and professional meetings across Europe. I was glad to be able to use my language skills. The country that made the biggest impression on me—since it was the only one where I got a few days off—was without a doubt Denmark.

I also co-authored articles with a journalist for a Belgian trade magazine. Together with my other colleagues and my boss, I led Navem, the national federation of furniture retailers. From there, I moved into hard selling (something very different from what I do now) and worked for Promedia, where I sold ad space in the Yellow Pages. The pressure was high, and our sales methods were 100% about applying psychological pressure to get that final signature on the contract. I always used the rule: “If you divide that budget—say, 2,500 euros—by 356 days, it’s only 7 euros a day, and you’ll be ahead of all your competitors.”

After two years of extensive travel—as a single person—I was assigned to the West Flanders and Limburg regions, which meant staying in a hotel every single day. I held that job for two years. From there, I moved to Brother Belgium as Executive Governmental Sales Manager, responsible for the official institutions of our country as well as for Luxembourg, where I stayed two days a week. So I sold roughly 500 to 1,000 Brother printers to procurement departments. After about a year and a half, I was approached by Ricoh—same type of job, same official title—and then by Infotec—same job, same title.

Enough with all that technical stuff—I could write a book about both printers and copiers. I decided to go into business for myself—and in a completely different field at that: organizing events.

The new venture was named “Dolce Vita Events.” In the early years, the focus was mainly on the then-trending “team-building murder mystery games” and “murder mystery dinners” featuring actors and actresses at the event venue Het Kasteel Van Wippelgem near Ghent. I ended up on the VRT program “De Rechtvaardige Rechters” (now VRT Radio, then BRT), and the very next day, my inbox was flooded with 350 requests to do my thing—“to go on a murder spree.” After that came seminars, conferences, theme parties, staff parties, executive and sales incentives—and yes, Italy was part of that too.

At the same time, I was also active with Vervecken’s Artiesten Klub, an impresario and international booking agency representing artists such as Berdien Steinberg, Johnny Logan, and others… So I had a background in events for about 16 years. The Dolce Vita Events era came to an end in 2012; in that final year, I organized virtually no events. It was a forced decision because Kasteel Van Wippelgem was sold (our venue for murder mystery plays and murder mystery dinners), and we were no longer welcome at the location in Sint-Martens-Latem where we held our James Bond team-building events due to our “noise nuisance.” Working nearly 20 hours a day from Thursday through Saturday had left me completely overwhelmed. I was running on Red Bull!!!

Meanwhile, starting in 2006, from my base in Lede near Aalst (Belgium), I had already been organizing small-scale incentive trips in Italy (groups of up to 20 people). I was able to manage Dolce Vita Events’ schedule—which included both domestic and international events—quite well.

In 2011, we decided to go public with an Italian limited liability company (S.r.l.); we looked for an accountant in Turin and a notary, and on March 8, 2011 (International Women’s Day), a new “baby” was born: Italia Incentives. Finding an accountant as a Flemish woman in Turin was quite a challenge. One of my suppliers told me: wear jeans, a white T-shirt or sweater, the cheapest shoes you can find, and no jewelry. In other words, don’t show who you really are. So I did just that: I visited nine accountants, and eight of them looked at me as if I’d come from some underdeveloped country. The last one gave me a chance.

The new venture, “Italia Incentives,” wasn’t based in Turin for image reasons but was instead located in a business center at Viale Abruzzi 13, right in the heart of Milan. I’ve never been there except to draw up contracts. Mail was sent to me; I’d scan it in advance and process it quickly via email. The accountant’s tip—“choose Milan as your base”—really did work wonders.

What did Italia Incentives do? As the name suggests, corporate incentives—sometimes combined with seminars and conferences—with event locations split almost 70% in Rome and 30% across a mix of Langhe, Cuneo, Milan, Sicily, Sardinia, etc… In the meantime, I was also a guest on “educational trips” (trips for travel agencies to get to know different regions), which allowed me to explore all the regions—with a focus on food and wine—except for Calabria and Molise. At least 80% of the business took place in May, June, September, and October, and during those months I’d fly domestically or take the Frecciarossa train from one location to another.

Here’s an interesting detail: with all those trips, I rarely returned to Belgium. So how did I manage to have clothes everywhere I went? I always travel with just carry-on luggage (laptop and film equipment). Up to seven suitcases were shipped from Belgium to various locations in Italy via DHL. Those suitcases all had to be delivered to different hotels. Once they arrived there—after the event or incentive was over—the hotel service would wash and iron them, and then one suitcase after another was shipped via an Italian freight forwarder. Mailboxes has offices all over Italy, so the suitcases—each from a different location—were quickly sent on to the next destination. And that’s how the suitcases traveled independently of one another all across Italy. Just to keep track of which suitcase was where, where it was headed, and what clothes were inside (think dress codes), I had to maintain a complete record! If just one suitcase was delayed, it would have been a huge problem!

In May 2012, an important decision was made: I would move to Italy—specifically to Cherasco—to live with a family-run business that produces coffee on a historic estate à la *Melrose Place*, but without the pool and without the haughty women. From a 250-square-meter house to a 75-square-meter apartment. Shurgard had a great customer in me because all that furniture had to be stored somewhere. The smell of roasted coffee beans permeated my clothes. Italia Incentives carried on as usual, but traveling became more difficult. It’s easier to fly from Belgium to Rome than to take the train or fly from Cherasco via Turin to Rome. I hadn’t considered how much time would be lost.

Starting April 26, 2013, the situation changed. Since I was getting questions from my Italia Incentives clients along the lines of “Can we also come to you to do this privately with our family?”, Italia Incentives was given a new name: Made In Italy Travel, B2B and B2C. (businesses/private clients). This change coincided with the move to a truly massive 220-square-meter property in the most idyllic location in Barbaresco Tre Stelle, featuring an immense garden (including 80 fruit trees) and 150 square meters of underground wine storage space.

Clients were very rarely from Belgium but came from countries such as the Netherlands, Russia, the U.S., Switzerland, Brazil, Japan, China, Brazil, etc. Since their friends and colleagues were also of different nationalities, I had to switch quickly between Dutch, French, English, and—on rare occasions—German and Italian when communicating with event venues, conducting interviews, and so on. That’s where my training as a translator and interpreter really came in handy. However, when you’re jumping from one language to another for 8 hours a day, you’re completely exhausted by the end of the day. And that situation repeats itself day after day. Communicating in English during masterclasses or tastings became the norm, but after the masterclass or presentation at the winery, the audience quickly realized—from the incoming phone calls I was receiving—that in addition to English, I also spoke French, Italian, and German, not to mention my native language, Dutch. Then people would come up to me with their questions, comments, and so on—in their native languages.

I grew increasingly weary of traveling constantly and having to keep track of the whole hassle of sending suitcases back and forth. Another change in 2014: the company that started as Italia Incentives, later becoming Made In Italy Travel, became Piemonte Travel. My love for wines led to an additional venture under Piemonte Travel, which was named Made In Piedmont Wines. An English name, since we were fully immersed in an international atmosphere. No website in the first year—just Excel spreadsheets. So the focus was solely on Piedmont!

The combination of Piemonte Travel and Made In Piedmont Wines worked wonderfully well. Anyone who visited Piedmont bought wine. Anyone who bought wine visited Piedmont sooner or later. Still, it’s actually a shame that I didn’t really get off the ground with Made In Piedmont Wines in Belgium, so we launched additional events in Flanders. That didn’t go very smoothly—far from it.

We rented a castle for one event, but far too few people showed up. So my marketing wasn’t working in Belgium back then. In the meantime, the Made In Piedmont Wines website had been launched in three languages—Dutch, French, and English.

Piemonte Travel only featured well-known wineries, but I didn’t feel a connection with their approach toward me. I’d had enough of the “Blassonnés” (people who think they can talk over everyone else). I decided to focus on the small, family-run businesses. These wineries didn’t have reviews from journalists, but the winemaker still conducts the tastings personally. Since they had no social media presence and no marketing strategy, I took on that part as well. However, it requires a lot, a lot, a lot more work to bring an unknown brand to market. By choosing to promote and sell wines from unknown wineries, I made things incredibly difficult for myself.

On January 2, 2016, I returned to the “Melrose Place” at Via La Morra 44 in Cherasco. The stock in Barbaresco had been sold. I was set to begin a three-year sommelier training program with the Associazione Italiana Sommelier (AIS), AISPiemonte, Turin chapter. Realizing that the program—along with the additional training events held throughout Piedmont, organized in part by AIS (Associazione Italiana Sommelier) but also by other entities—would take up most of my time, I made two important decisions. Among other things, I decided to take on subcontracted work from others, because while I can adapt quickly, I’m not quite fast enough to cover 200 km in half an hour.

The fact that, as a Flemish woman in my own Flanders, I had such a hard time getting off the ground was definitely a tough pill to swallow. It gave me splitting headaches day after day! In life, there are certain things you can’t change, so I tried to avoid the migraines by simply setting aside my ideals in Flanders.

I still wonder how I managed to pull it all off back then. After all, there are only 24 hours in a day, and I needed 48.

I moved just one more time, back to Cherasco San Michele.

The “Melrose Place” in Cherasco was amazing: my upstairs neighbor Michela cooked, and I provided the wines. I also often did the grocery shopping, since with her work schedule, it was practically impossible for her to do it. We walked the dogs together and took Turin by storm with our private “wine bar to wine bar tours” from early evening until late at night.

In Turin, we were two incognitos—and that helped! Two women having the time of their lives, with a strong bond, a Saab convertible, Aereo, and two dogs, Baco and Joe. Sometimes we’d have parties with 12 people from 7 different countries, and everyone would bring one dish to share. Being active in the wine business, I’d occasionally receive sample bottles here and there. How valuable it was to be able to test everything right away on seven nationalities! I got real-time reviews right there on Michela’s immense terrace, which, by the way, overlooked the vineyards and hazelnut plantations.

However, in 2019, this chapter came to an end: my accountant, whose invoices had risen by 400% since I started, really put me over the edge. Also, the fact that Italy doesn’t really have a solid social security system. So, at the end of 2019, I drove my silver Saab Cabrio Aereo back to Belgium. Joe—an Australian Shepherd—was in the back seat, with a hefty speeding ticket from Switzerland as a parting gift. I rented a storage unit from an Italian man and his son in Charleroi, moved everything from Cherasco to Bra, and that was that. My business partner picked up the stock of furniture and other items at the end of the storage unit’s lease term.

Returning to Lede was impossible since I had sold my largest property. Prices in Flanders were sky-high, so I took a chance on Wallonia. Immoweb had its biggest fan in me; I lived in a hotel for a few weeks (yes, with an Australian Shepherd).

One so-called newly renovated property with very high historical value was listed without any photos. I contacted the owner; the photos were supposed to go online by the end of the week. I kept a close eye on Immoweb. I was determined to be the first to see this property. The photos that were eventually posted were stunning. In barely 10 minutes, I’d decided: this is where I’m going to live.

There was some work to be done, though. Of the 1.5-hectare garden, at least 1.2 hectares had to be fenced in so that Asanka (also an Australian Shepherd), who had replaced the now-deceased Joe, wouldn’t be able to dig her way out in all her enthusiasm.

One tricky detail: there was supposed to be high-speed internet, but it still had to be installed over a long distance from the street. The owner thought this had already been done a few years earlier. Inside, too, I could literally pull the cable for the so-called “fast internet” right out of the ground. My wine sales business in Belgium suddenly took off. This was in addition to my international business, of course, but I had no internet for four weeks until Proximus—the internet provider—would lay the cables.

The only solution was to go “internet camping” at the Five Nations Golf Resort, located barely a 30-second drive from my property. I drank gallons of coffee, set up shop in the bar, and was able to work. Constant power outages at my property didn’t make life any easier either.

After four weeks, all the cables were installed. Everything went remarkably well—for once—and an external warehouse was set up in addition to the underground cellars. The wine import and sales business, as well as the Piemonte Travel business, were actually run from Méan, even though our office is in Mechelen. Of course, that changed later.

Since 2019, sales in Flanders have been on the rise and reached the same level as international wine sales. However, my love for Piedmont hadn’t faded enough to keep me “alive and kicking” there. I was too homesick. After two years in Méan, I decided to buy a designer home in Zoalengo, Monferrato, which I sold within six months—for all sorts of highly annoying technical reasons—but still made a nice profit.

I lived briefly in other places in Flanders, but through our neighbor I learned that the property in Méan was back on the market. So, here we go—moving again.

Anyway, I breathe in Piedmont, I breathe out Piedmont

The photo was taken in 2013 in my garden in Barbaresco Tre Stelle.