Chapter 130: America in Turmoil (1)
TL: Hanguk
At the tail end of May, the garden of the Mondavi Winery was full of the scent of flowers swaying in the spring breeze and the smell of old earth. And in the very center of it, Mondavi, who cherished this garden dearly, was basking in the cool wind and the warm sunlight, savoring the leisure of the afternoon.
Just then, two men came into the garden from far off in the distance. Mondavi, whose eyesight was poor, only realized who they were once they had drawn close.
It was Joseph Higgins, the owner of Castello Vineyards, and his son, Matthew Higgins.
"It's been a while, Joseph."
In Napa Valley, Robert Mondavi's standing was higher than anyone else's. That was why even Joseph Higgins, owner of Castello Vineyards, the man who held To-Kalon and whose annual revenue ran past tens of millions of dollars, turned as meek as a child in front of Robert.
"... I'm relieved. I'd heard you weren't in good health, but seeing you today, you look well."
"At my age, you have a good day, then a bad day. Have a seat. Matthew, was it?"
Settling into his chair, Joseph pushed his proud son forward.
"He's the future of our Castello. A bright boy."
"I heard he was sharp. Graduated from UC Davis with good marks, did he?"
Matthew gave a sheepish smile.
"I graduated at the top of my class."
Robert looked at Joseph and offered a faint smile.
"How clever can a boy be... You must be the happiest man in all of Napa."
"Hahaha! Thank you. You, sit here too."
Once Matthew had also taken a seat in one of the white chairs that suited the beautiful garden so well, Joseph studied Robert Mondavi's wrinkled face carefully and spoke.
"Napa still needs you, sir. I hope you'll stay healthy and lead this place for a long time to come."
Robert looked taken aback.
"What are you talking about? A man who has to go ought to go quickly. Sometimes I even think things move slowly because of me."
"What do you mean by that, sir?"
"With the old ghosts still hanging around Napa, people fall into the habit of just doing as they're told, and I wonder if that's why they can't break free of their fixed ideas."
Joseph was puzzled. Tradition mattered more than anything in wine, so he couldn't see what was wrong with carrying on the way things had always been done.
"Did something happen?"
If Robert had been saying such things all along, that would have been one thing, but this was the first Joseph had heard of it, so he asked, wondering whether something had happened recently to bring on such talk.
Robert caught his breath, dwelt on something for a moment, then spoke.
"No. So... what brings you here?"
Seeing that Robert seemed reluctant to get into it, Joseph, though disappointed, came to the point.
"... It's about the word that Warren Winiarski has gone over to Redwood Winery."
"There's no one around here who hasn't seen that magazine. The fellow put his winery up for sale and turned the whole neighborhood on its head. What a troublemaker..."
"Haha, that's right. He turned the entire wine industry on its head. And it isn't just here, my friends in New York have been calling me too, asking whether what the magazine said is true. Honestly, how would I know? What old Warren is scheming. Do you happen to know, sir?"
"So you came because of Warren, did you?"
"Not solely because of that, but yes, it's what set things off."
"Hmm..."
Robert caught his breath, glanced around the beautiful garden, and spoke.
"How would I know what's going on inside that fellow's head? But at least one thing seems certain."
"... And what's that, sir?"
"It seems he's found a passion for wine."
"Sorry?"
"Passion, at his age... Honestly, I envied him. I was about ready to die of envy. It made me wonder why I never had that kind of passion when I was his age, and it pained me to think I have no time left."
Hearing something he hadn't expected, Joseph looked flustered. He'd never imagined getting an answer like this, least of all here.
"If he truly has found that kind of passion, then his joining Redwood wasn't just about proving something to someone?"
"Proving something? Heh, right now there's nothing in Warren's head but wine."
At those words, Joseph's expression turned grave. Seeing it, Robert let out a small chuckle.
"What? Did you figure that with Warren selling Stag's Leap and it passing to Ste. Michelle and Antinori, it'd be a big opportunity for Castello? But you know how it is, even when the winemaker is gone, the wine he leaves behind is eternal."
"I know that. Which is exactly why I never wished for Stag's Leap, soaring higher than our Castello as it does, to come crashing down. If anything, I wanted it to keep hovering proudly up there, showing people the greatness of Napa wine."
"And so?"
"But that old man trying to raise yet another winery right in front of me, that's another story entirely."
Had anyone else said this, Robert would have scoffed. It was a statement that brazenly laid bare the audacious desire to follow in Stag's Leap's footsteps and secure a place as yet another premium wine of Napa Valley. But when it came to Castello Winery, even Robert acknowledged it.
These men had every right to say such a thing.
"What good would it do to bring all this to me?"
"Redwood has already taken two golds at the DWWA. Before that, they picked up two Double Golds at the San Francisco Chronicle as well. And now Warren Winiarski has joined them. ... Doesn't that frighten you? It's practically the birth of a new powerhouse."
Robert understood his fear well enough, yet his gaze remained calm. And so Joseph couldn't make sense of him. Was it because all this would unfold only after Robert himself was gone?
Joseph took a sip of his drink and cautiously put the question to him.
"... So I was thinking, what if our Castello and Mondavi created a new brand together?"
Only now grasping the real reason for the visit, Robert's face took on an unreadable look.
"The two wineries joining forces to make a new brand? You mean to take the spotlight Warren stands to claim and pull it over to yourself and the Mondavi family?"
"Exactly. Combine the Mondavi family's legacy with Castello's power, and we could keep Warren and Redwood in check easily enough. And I intend to devote myself fully to the project."
His face still unreadable, Mondavi spoke in a quiet voice.
"... Joseph, I no longer have that kind of energy in me."
"Sir..."
"Building a new brand, bringing it to market, and then pouring everything into keeping it alive... I haven't the strength for that anymore. If you truly want to do it, why not talk to my children rather than me?"
"Your word is still absolute at the Mondavi Winery, sir. Everyone looks only to you."
"Well... A competitive spirit is a good thing. Good for a winery, and good for the industry. But I believe Mondavi should steer clear of the notion of achieving anything by leaning on outside help. In that respect, I'm sorry to say it, but why not look for another winery?"
Getting such a disappointing answer from the Robert he had trusted, Joseph's face hardened. Since it was only to be expected, Robert added with a look of sympathy.
"From what I hear, when Warren went off to Redwood, Ste. Michelle and Antinori, the ones who bought up Stag's Leap, were quite put out about it. Things would only get complicated with Antinori over in Italy, so why not take this idea to Ste. Michelle? They'd likely welcome it warmly."
But Joseph scoffed.
"Hmph! What kind of deal could I strike with outfits that do nothing but sell daily wines under thirty dollars? I've heard the talk too. Ste. Michelle is itching to make a new wine using Stag's Leap's blending combination, but it'll probably come out as some lesser version of the Stag's Leap Cabernet Sauvignon. I doubt they could match even half of it."
"...... Then that's a shame."
Feeling there was nothing more to be done, Joseph rose from his seat, and Matthew at once stepped up behind his father.
"Thank you for your advice today. We're always concerned for your health, sir."
"Thank you for your concern."
"We'll take our leave now, then."
"Take care on your way."
As Robert quietly watched Joseph's retreating back after they shook hands, another man came toward him from the distance.
Benjamin Sinclair.
He was the man serving as General Manager in charge of the Mondavi Winery for Constellation Brands, the global wine and spirits corporation.
"So Joseph Higgins of Castello came by."
"He did. Seems he's got a great deal on his mind because of Warren."
"And you're not troubled in the slightest, sir?"
"It's hardly the time for me to be fretting over such things, is it? That kind of worrying is your job."
When Warren, having no one to take over his winery, put Stag's Leap on the market, Robert Mondavi had already been through this very process three years earlier. The only things that set him apart from Warren were that he'd had children to carry on the winery and that the reason for the sale had been managerial trouble.
In his later years, after struggling financially through reckless expansion, charitable giving, and a family feud over control of the business, the winery had ultimately passed to Constellation Brands for one billion dollars.
For all those hardships, he still wielded tremendous influence in the wine industry.
"Still, might there be some bit of advice you could offer?"
"There's none. Wine isn't like sports. It's closer to art, really. Victory doesn't always mean one man beating another. Each has his own path."
"But there are moments when wine is a sport too. Like the Judgment of Paris."
"That's greed. The moment you let that greed in, the wine is ruined. If you want Mondavi to succeed, just focus on yourselves, nothing more."
Having said this, Mondavi rose from his seat. Getting up after him, Benjamin asked.
"Are you off to Continuum Estate?"
It was the winery founded by his second son, Tim Mondavi, and his daughter, Marcia Mondavi, and was regarded as the de facto spiritual heir to the legacy of Robert, who had by now stepped back from the wine world.
"If I'm to teach them all I can before I die, I'd best keep busy."
"Don't give all your attention to them alone, sir. Teach us plenty as well."
"Heh heh... Everything of mine is already there, so as long as you keep working hard the way you have been, there'll be nothing to worry about. If there's ever something you truly want to know, come find me. I can lend a hand anytime."
With that, Robert walked past Benjamin and moved on. Benjamin watched his receding figure and furrowed his brow. Robert still served as the face of the Mondavi Winery, turning up here and there, but it was clear that once he was gone, the winery would be shaken.
The aging cellar of Redwood Winery in June.
"The acidity's a bit too strong, isn't it? The aroma here is so heavy it feels like it's killing the bold, original character of the Cabernet Sauvignon."
"I'll try adjusting the Merlot ratio a little."
"How about adjusting the oxygen level in that aging tank a touch?"
"No way. I've already got it set just right. One slip and I lose the whole ten thousand liters in one go."
"What a shame... I'd really love to tinker with every bit of it just a little."
Warren, who'd been sipping wine bit by bit ever since he came in for work, already had his face flushed bright red. However lightly he meant only to taste it, the constant sipping was bound to leave him at least somewhat drunk.
Just then, Dad's voice suddenly carried in from outside.
"Brian! Visitors are here! Mr. Warren! You have visitors, sir!"
Since the call was for not just me but Warren as well, Warren and I looked at each other and blinked.
"Are you expecting anyone?"
"Not that I know of."
"Let's go take a look."
When I opened the aging cellar door and stepped out, people I hadn't expected were standing there.
"Father! Why won't you answer your phone?!"
"It's an emergency!"
The two who'd come to the winery were none other than Warren's two sons, Andrew and Jonathan.
"I was working, so I set it down somewhere or other. What is it?"
Warren, who had never liked giving his attention to anything else to begin with, answered offhandedly and looked at his two sons in their fit of panic.
"It's... that contract we handed you, did you happen to sign it and send it off?"
"You mean that building over in LA?"
"Yes."
"I didn't."
At those words, both sons let out a breath of relief.
"Phew..."
"Thank goodness."
His face twisting at the two of them, Warren rebuked his sons.
"Hmph! I knew it would come to this. They say the banks are in an uproar right now, so what did I tell you?"
Andrew protested, looking aggrieved.
"Right up through May, everyone said it would be fine. Even Bernanke said there wouldn't be any major problem. Haah... Anyway, you did the right thing."
Just as he said, the Fed chairman, Ben Bernanke, had made a decisive misjudgment the previous month, in May, when he stated, 'I do not expect the problems in the subprime mortgage market to spread to the broader economy or the financial system.'
Because I had kept telling him over and over never to invest in real estate, Warren, perhaps uneasy himself, had been holding out, refusing to sign off on the approval his two sons had put before him.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk..."
Regarding his two sons with a look of disdain, Warren turned to my dad and spoke.
"I envy you. Truly."
Then he looked at his two sons again and said.
"For the time being, keep your hands off the real estate investment firm's affairs as well."
"Father!"
"Hmph! If you wanted a hand in it, you should have shown me you were up to it."
With that he stalked off into the aging cellar, and I gave the two sons a sympathetic smile before following him in.
*****
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