Chapter 5: Silver Oak Farm(1)
TL: Hanguk
“Vinegar? What do you mean?”
Dad wiped his sweat with the towel hanging around his neck and sat down on the empty plastic box for holding grapes next to the storage.
“Mr. John Anderson already sold all the marketable grapes, but we can’t just throw these away.”
"That's why I was going to sell them cheap."
In fact, the best way to secure even a little cash was to sell them to a low-priced winery that handled cheap products.
It was unfortunate that Cabernet Sauvignon had to be turned into cheap wine, but if we wanted to at least cover a bit of the principal and interest, this was the right thing to do. It was also the most convenient.
But I didn’t want to just hand these grapes over for a throwaway price.
“You said he once tried to make wine and failed, right?”
“Mm... that's what I heard. Don’t tell me you’re thinking about wine too?”
Dad flinched in surprise.
“Why are you surprised? We’re growing top-grade Cabernet Sauvignon grapes, so isn’t it stranger not to try making wine ourselves? That’s why the former owner, Mr. John Anderson, tried to make wine.”
The fact that wine-making equipment existed in a corner of the Vineyard was, of course, something Dad had already mentioned.
“He gave up because it wasn’t easy. He wasted ingredients and failed several times. Why do you think the farm went under!”
“I know. But trust me. Selling raw materials to a winery gives only a small profit, but if we make and sell the wine ourselves, the profit is at least five to twenty times higher!”
“No, well...”
“And! I’m not saying we should make wine right now. I’m talking about making vinegar. That can’t be used for wine.”
When I pointed at the grapes in the box, Dad finally calmed down. It was because he knew selling low-quality grapes wouldn’t bring much money anyway.
“Vinegar? Not wine, but vinegar?”
“Yes. Vinegar can be made even from grapes with low market value.”
“You know how to make vinegar?”
Seeing Dad’s doubtful gaze, I intentionally struck a confident pose.
“Of course! You think I’d suggest it without knowing how to make it?”
“Then how...?”
Before Dad could finish his question, someone’s voice called from outside.
"Hey! Is anyone there?"
When our family stepped outside, a white man in his fifties wearing a cowboy hat was standing there.
“Who are you?”
Dad asked, and the man gave a wide grin.
“Ah, nice to meet you. I’m Elowen Pike. Lovely day. These your family? And this your son?”
“Yes... that’s right.”
These Americans always acted overly friendly and started chattering about things no one cared about, something they called small talk. I never liked it. They wouldn’t even remember you the next time they saw you.
“Good-looking boy. He looks young, but he’s farming already? Helping your parents?”
“That’s right.”
“Excellent.”
He turned back to Dad and asked,
“I heard the farm has a new owner. Do you know where he is?”
So that was what he came for in the end.
“I’m the farm owner.”
“You? Ah... oh... I see.”
He looked surprised that an Asian was the farm owner, then forced a smile and said,
“I heard the farm’s condition isn’t good. Why did you take it over?”
It was a rather sensitive and straightforward question, so Dad’s expression hardened.
“It was cheap and I thought I could revive it. Is there a problem?”
Even before immigrating, Dad already knew basic English, and after arriving he desperately studied it. So he fully understood the condescending tone and responded bluntly.
“No problem. I’m just concerned, that’s all. This is a large farm... do you have any experience?”
“I worked on this farm.”
The moment Elowen Pike’s mouth curled up on one side. A blatant sneer. He must have figured out that a mere immigrant farmer had bought the place with government assistance.
“Ah... I see. Alright. Good luck.”
After saying that, Elowen flicked the brim of his cowboy hat in an irritating manner and turned away. I shouted at him.
"By the way, where did you come from?"
He slowly turned back, swept his eyes over our family, and spoke with a faint smile.
“Silveroak. That’s my home.”
“Ah!”
Silveroak Hills Vineyards.
The largest single Vineyard in Napa Valley and located in the most central spot. Its size reached 50 acres, and the wine produced there was known as the most prestigious in California.
It was practically the top dog among grape farms in the area.
The three of us stood blankly watching him swagger away.
“Doesn’t he seem kind of rude?”
As expected, even though Mom wasn’t good at English, she immediately sensed how unpleasant he was.
“Right. He’s an unpleasant guy.”
Then Dad turned his head and asked,
“Why do you think he suddenly came here?”
Watching the guy drive away in his car, I said,
“Elowen must have known Redwood Farm was struggling. Even though things are hard now because of the disease outbreak, with his experience and skill, he probably believed he could revive it. But we swooped in and bought it first, so wouldn’t he be shocked?”
I didn’t remember who bought Redwood Farm before my regression. By the time I quit my accounting job and returned to my parents, we were working not in a Vineyard but in an orange farm, so I didn’t know much about Napa Valley’s situation.
Even so, I had an almost certain feeling about why that man had come.
“So if we had been a little late, we wouldn’t have been able to buy the farm?”
Seeing Dad’s surprised face, I answered proudly.
“That’s why I told you we had to buy it fast. If we were even a few days late, he would have snatched it up.”
“Ah...”
“Maybe...”
“Maybe?”
“Maybe the disease that spread through Redwood Farm was that guy’s doing.”
My parents jolted in shock.
“What?”
“Isn’t that going too far? That’s excessive.”
“Heh... what am I going to do with you two being so pure? Think about it. They say all of Napa Valley suffered from disease this year, but have you heard anything about powdery mildew spreading at Silveroak?”
To be honest, I had no idea whether they had powdery mildew or not. But it seemed my parents didn’t know either.
Seeing them shake their heads, I took it as confirmation and raised my voice.
“Then what do you think? Doesn’t it make sense he wanted to ruin a competing farm and buy it cheap?”
“Is it even possible to intentionally spread disease?”
“Of course. If you take infected branches or seedlings and secretly plant or hide them among healthy trees, the infection spreads easily.”
At first, when the idea flashed through my mind, I thought I was being dramatic like Mom, but the more I talked, the more plausible it sounded.
It felt like I was completing the story as I spoke.
‘Huh? That actually sounds convincing. What a total bastard!’
But I didn’t say that out loud. I just shrugged and walked back into the storage.
“Anyway, as you saw just now, we can’t let our guard down. If we don’t increase the farm’s profit margin, we never know when that unpleasant guy will try to buy us out.”
“Hm... you’re right.”
Someone might say we could just refuse to sell, but when you have to make monthly payments for the principal and interest on loans, and the farm’s future looks bleak, you eventually have no choice but to accept a buyout offer.
People have to survive somehow.
“I saw that the former owner, Mr. John Anderson, had equipment set up in the farm to make wine?”
Dad sat back down on that old box and said,
“It wasn’t Mr. John Anderson, but his father. The wine his father made was highly praised. So the equipment isn’t recent. But John, who liked to fool around, never properly learned it. The grapes were good, but the wine that came out wasn’t, so it never received the proper value. I heard that’s why he couldn’t make much profit.”
“Ah... I see. When we first bought the farm, the thing I was happiest about was the wine equipment. Because the equipment used to make wine and the equipment used to make vinegar are very similar.”
My parents widened their eyes at the good news.
“Really?”
“They’re made in a similar way?”
Since neither of them knew how vinegar or wine was made, this reaction was natural.
“Yes. Especially the initial stage of extracting the juice and going through the first Alcohol Fermentation process is almost identical. The difference is that wine, after Alcohol Fermentation, moves directly to aging and bottling (the process of sealing finished wine or beverages in bottles) without an additional acetic acid fermentation stage.”
“Oh my~ when did our son study so much?”
Mom affectionately patted my shoulder.
“Your son always studied hard.”
I wasn’t originally this kind of person, but seeing my parents again after they had died once must have softened me, and a childlike tone I never used when I was young naturally slipped out.
“So from now on, the first goal is to make vinegar from those grapes and supply it to department stores. Understood?”
“Will it go well?”
“Just follow my lead.”
“Alright. Then I’ll go clean the wine equipment with your dad.”
“No. You need to call a professional to check whether anything is broken, and if there are parts that need fixing, they have to be taken care of.”
“Really? Aigoo, our son is so thorough. Wonder who he takes after. Hohoho!”
After resting a bit, my parents went back up to harvest more grapes.
Left alone, I closed the storage and stepped outside, thinking about Elowen who had left earlier.
‘He doesn’t seem like the type to give up easily...’
I decided to start by looking into Silveroak Farm.
*****
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