Chapter 139: Cause and Effect (3)
TL: Hanguk
First, the bottle on the left had a neat, modern design. The long-necked glass bottle held a yellow tint, and its simple label stirred curiosity all on its own. Warren lifted the bottle, held it up to the sunlight streaming through the window, and gave a slight frown.
"This one... the color's remarkably clean. How strong is it?"
"Forty percent."
Warren broke into a broad smile.
"This ought to be something."
With an expectant look, Jacob opened the bottle and poured the spirit into a glass he'd prepared. Warren's eyes lit up at the clear liquid with its very faint yellow tint. As he took the glass, he brought it beneath his nose almost on instinct.
And in that moment, Warren went still.
"...Huh? At forty percent, the ethanol punch should be the first thing to hit... but instead the aroma has this old-world elegance. Is that the Eastern-liquor character?"
"That's because it's Korean-style soju."
He nodded at my words and took a sip. Feeling the powerful reaction on the tip of his tongue, he furrowed his brow as he savored it, then tapped the glass with his finger and spoke.
"Distinctive. Very distinctive. I've never come across a vodka with structure before. Clean, but not thin. Transparent, but not empty. Did you take it through more than two distillations?"
Jacob said happily,
"Yes. The first run is done in a pot still to leave a touch of aroma, and the second in a column still to strip out only the impurities. We control the cut point precisely, so..."
"So that's how. Leave a faint trace of aroma, erase the impurities but keep the presence... It's not as if I've never tried an Eastern spirit, but this is a remarkably unique experience. Honestly, when I heard 'Korean-style vodka' I expected some flat, monotonous alcohol."
"Oh... have you happened to try Korean soju before?"
"I have. A friend of mine took me to a Korean barbecue place and introduced me to it. For me, it was... a somewhat bewildering experience, I'll admit. Oh, the meat was superb, though."
If he'd tried Korean soju, then I could completely understand why he'd called it a bewildering experience. After all, soju barely qualified as a drink at all, just a liquid that was little more than alcohol. And how a legendary winemaker like Warren must have felt drinking it... well, that went without saying.
"The Korean soju you had at that restaurant is nothing more than alcohol, mass-produced and sold cheap so people can get drunk on a budget. This is made with traditional soju techniques. There's no comparison."
"I see. Then what about this one...?"
He turned his attention to the other bottle. The Fruit Soju, even from the bottle alone, had a far livelier image, a little different from the clean, modern feel of the first, so I couldn't tell what Warren made of it.
Jacob opened the Fruit Soju, poured it into a glass, and said,
"This one's our Fruit Soju. It obviously won't have the depth of a wine, but it's not some cheap thing drenched in artificial flavoring either, so give it a try."
That was exactly what he'd been thinking, so when Jacob brought up "cheap and drenched in artificial flavoring" first, Warren gave a wry smile. Then he raised the glass to his nose, and the subtle fruit aroma rising from the clear liquid put him in a pleasant mood.
And then one sip... Warren's expression hardened, and the corners of his eyes twitched. It was plain to see that the completely unexpected taste had thrown him off guard.
"This is... it tastes more like a soft drink than liquor, doesn't it? No, it's too refined to be a soft drink... and the sweetness isn't the least bit cloying."
"Ha ha, you think so?"
Watching Jacob breathe a sigh of relief, Warren immediately took another sip. This time more slowly...
Back in Korea, fruit soju was something college students mixed together to drink, and even here in America it was no more than a slightly evolved version of the RTDs people knocked back to get drunk quickly, so seeing him drink it this seriously was, in a way, a little funny.
In any case, contrary to what I was thinking, Warren spoke with a serious expression.
"The acidity lifts the sweetness up, then disappears cleanly at the finish. It's the kind of balance you find in a table wine, and they've pulled it off quite well."
Getting praise from Warren, of all people, Jacob was beside himself with delight as he said,
"We used natural flavorings extracted and distilled from real fruit. They dissolve into the alcohol and water better than syrup does."
"Did Brian here teach you this one too?"
Jacob scratched his head with an embarrassed look.
"Yeah... the whole method was something Brian worked out for us."
At that, Warren stared at me as if I were some kind of monster, then asked,
"Did you start studying agriculture and brewing the moment you were born? There's no other way to have this kind of knowledge."
"I've just been interested in it since I was a kid, that's all."
"It's not as if I've never met young people called geniuses, but you're the first I've seen who's a genius in this particular direction. I was no slouch in my day, but nowhere near your level."
"When you were young, Mr. Warren, your interest was in business, not this side of things. I got into it early on, so it's a different story."
"Hah, that sort of makes sense, and yet sort of doesn't..."
Shaking his head, Warren turned to Jacob and said,
"Anyway, this is the one that's selling well right now, isn't it?"
"That's right."
"There's a reason it's doing well. This could shake up the entire American RTD market. People are going to want a safe fruit soju over some RTD where you don't even know who made it."
At those gratifying words, Jacob and I looked at each other and smiled. They say sales never lie, but earning recognition from a legendary winemaker stirred a different kind of emotion altogether.
"In any case, this has been a wonderful experience. It's reminded me I still have plenty left to learn."
"It was a true honor to have you visit."
Beaming, Jacob loaded a case each of the distillery's 'The One' and 'Peach Light' into Warren's car as he was leaving.
For anyone who loved a good drink, this gift would have been better than anything, yet strangely enough, Warren simply wore a faint smile and quietly got into the car.
As we pulled away, leaving the distillery behind, Warren said,
"Master and his friends really show that when you're young, you have to take on every challenge you can. In ten years, I'd wager the names of Master and his friends will be ringing out loud across California."
For some reason, I thought of Armando, whom I hadn't yet introduced to him.
'Sorry... I'll help you make it with wine too, not just vinegar.'
He was the sort who'd be happy with just his lovely wife even without any success, but my heart wouldn't let it rest at that.
"You said it was because the farm was small that you took on the distillery, right? You've pulled success out of a challenge most people could never manage."
In Korea, a plot of land reaching a whopping 98,000-plus pyeong could hardly be called small, but for an American rice farm, a place this size made Warren's words ring true. [TL: 98,000 pyeong is roughly 80 acres.]
"In a way, I think this result came about precisely because the farm was small, because we were in a situation where we had no choice but to carve out a breakthrough. If we'd been living comfortably, we'd have just kept on the way we always had. Right now they're saying the rice from those 80 acres won't be enough, so they're planning to bring in rice from the neighboring farm."
"Remarkable."
Warren nodded, then turned his gaze out the window as if sinking into deep thought. From the look of it, I figured that seeing such passionate young people had given him a lot to mull over. His own children thought of nothing but easy money, so watching young people who threw themselves so passionately into challenges and actually built something, despite their youth, might well have stirred all sorts of thoughts in him, I supposed.
We'd been on the road for a good while when Warren suddenly spoke up.
"That fruit soju, the fruit aroma in it was alive."
"Huh? Uh... yes..."
"So why is it that brandy has always killed off all the fruit aroma?"
A sudden question. But since the one asking was Warren, I gave it serious thought before answering.
"Because traditional brandy is distilled at high temperatures. Roughly 75 to 90°C or so? As far as I know, the esters that make up fruit aroma are mostly destroyed at those temperatures."
"Exactly. Aroma is fragile under heat. So if you want to preserve it, you have to distill below the temperature where the aroma breaks down."
It was an obvious enough thing to say.
"Right?"
"That fruit soju I just drank, its color, viscosity, and alcohol weight were all light, but the aroma alone was exquisite. If you take that into account, couldn't we make a new kind of brandy?"
My jaw dropped. He hadn't been gazing out the window lost in thought because of his past or some lingering regret, but because the fruit soju had inspired him and set him on creating something new.
"No, I mean..."
"You said you've got a stake in that Golden Grain Soju House, didn't you? Or was it a stake in Redwood Winery?"
"That's right."
"Good. Then if I develop a new spirit, I won't be handing it over to Golden Grain Soju House for free."
"Of course not. Since you'd be the one developing it, naturally I'll see to it you get a cut of the sales."
Warren let out a soft chuckle.
"Thanks. Though I don't need much. I've already got more money than I know what to do with."
With the 180 million dollars he'd made from selling his winery, he seemed like a man who had transcended money entirely by now.
"Still, I'll give you what anyone else would get. Otherwise where's the satisfaction in it?"
"Suit yourself. Oh, more importantly, I'd like it if you put my name on the brandy."
From the eager, sparkling-eyed look on his face, it seemed he was far more interested in this than in the money.
"Hahaha! Let's do that."
"Good. Let's hurry, then. My head's swimming with all sorts of blending formulas. I need to get them sorted out."
"Sure, sure."
The whole way there, he kept fidgeting with his hands, lost in thought about something. He'd called me a genius, but I knew the truth. The real genius was him.
Two days later, Chloe was in the office talking with Liam, the farm manager, when a heavy thud of footsteps suddenly sounded at the office entrance. Then, with a creak of the door, a man appeared, and the sight of him made Chloe's eyes go wide.
An enormous build, a black suit pulled unrealistically taut across it, and a man dabbing the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief despite the cool September breeze.
"Ms. Chloe Harris?"
At the low, resonant voice, Chloe nodded, flustered.
"Um... that's me. Sorry, who... are you?"
The man drew in one big breath and, as though his name were something that ought to be heard everywhere, slowly produced a business card and held it out.
Howard 'Harry' Montis Attorney at Law / Water Rights & Agricultural Disputes Specialist
"Call me Harry."
"Oh... the Rainmaker?"
Hearing the nickname, Harry broke into a grin. Such a grin on that huge face gave off an oddly cringe-inducing feeling, but even so, Chloe smiled brightly.
He was the very man Warren had spoken of. The fixer who would put this whole problem right had finally arrived. And now she thought she understood why Warren had said the man resembled a hamburger.
"Have a seat, first of all."
As he sank his hefty frame into the sofa, Chloe pulled a cold juice from the refrigerator and offered it to him. Watching in fascination as he downed the 500ml drink in one go, as if it were a tiny bottle of digestive tonic, Chloe calmed herself and said,
"The thing is, let me tell you what happened at our farm..."
After listening for a good while, the Rainmaker, Harry, gave a sniff and asked,
"Sniff. So, what is it you want?"
"Well, some fair compensation..."
"What kind of compensation?"
"Sorry?"
"Money? Or securing water resources? Or is it land?"
Chloe, about to say money of course, promptly shut her mouth. At that, Harry, who'd been rolling the empty glass bottle around on his palm, narrowed his already small eyes even further and said,
"Landing a proper blow on that arrogant troublemaker is dead easy. But right now, you're missing something important."
"And what's that?"
"You didn't get in line."
"Sorry?"
"The other farms joined the lawsuit, but this one didn't, correct?"
"That's right..."
"Then if you fall into step with the other farms, there'll be no compensation left coming to you. By then they'll have already shredded it like a rag and made off with the lot."
"Then what should I do?"
He grinned and leaned his upper body forward. Without realizing it, Chloe shrank back, pressing herself deeper into the sofa.
"We finish it off before the others can sink their teeth in. Roar!"
At his fearsome (?) display, Chloe nodded without a second thought.
*****
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