Chapter 62: Winkler Dinner (1)
TL: Hanguk
"I hear you're participating in the Winkler Dinner?"
Robert Mondavi, well past ninety, still carried authority in every word. It was remarkable enough that he was still getting around so well at his age, but the fact that his passion for wine remained undiminished was something to admire.
"That's right. I've been assigned one of the courses."
"How would you feel about featuring our Mondavi wines as the primary pairing?"
"I'm sorry? Why would you...?"
The proposal was so unexpected that instead of a positive answer, the question came out reflexively.
"Why? Is it strange for me to lobby you to pair Mondavi wines?"
I could feel Armando beside me growing even more flustered than I was, but my own confusion still hadn't cleared.
"It's just that even without me, Mondavi wines are world-renowned. I don't see why you'd need to ask me for something like this."
"If the wines in question were well-regarded, there'd be no reason."
Only after hearing that did I finally see what the old man was getting at.
"Ah... You don't mean, among the Mondavi wines...?"
"That's right. I'd like you to use the Private Selection line."
Not all wines from Robert Mondavi Winery were well-regarded. The mid-to-low-priced mass-market wines, in particular, had never received favorable reviews. Among them, Woodbridge had developed a downright cheap image, sold as house wine in restaurants and served on airline flights.
The Private Selection he mentioned was a step above Woodbridge in price, but it was still a line that hadn't earned much praise.
"Sure, why not. I don't see any problem with that."
The Dean was right there beside us, so his agreement was already implied, and I had no reason to refuse. I wasn't a chef or a restaurant owner; using Mondavi wines for a one-day course pairing wouldn't do any harm. Besides, the Winkler Dinner had traditionally built its courses around wines donated by wineries or alumni, so there were no procedural issues either.
The only thing that still puzzled me was why he was asking me, of all people, for this favor. If he wanted to promote Private Selection, he could easily have used someone else or found another way.
"Thank you. Next month I'll send a chef and one of our winery people."
"Understood."
"Oh, and one more thing. How did you learn about wine? There aren't any places in Asia that teach that kind of blending, and at your age, you couldn't have had much opportunity to experience many wines."
Robert's sharp gaze flashed.
"Ah, my father is a big wine lover, so even though I was young, I got to try a lot. In Asia, if you're drinking with your parents, people tend to look the other way even if you're a bit underage."
"Is that so? And what about viticulture?"
"I was interested, so I read a lot about UC Davis's viticulture research. While other kids were reading comics, I was in the library studying viticulture."
"Remarkable. A prodigy in both viticulture and wine... I've never seen anything like it. Better than I was at your age."
At that, Dean Thomas burst out laughing.
"Ha ha ha, you're too kind. You know what happens when you lay the praise on too thick, right?"
"That's exactly why I'm stopping here."
"In any case, Brian, thank you for putting together such a fine showcase today. I look forward to seeing great things from you at the Winkler Dinner as well."
That was Dean Thomas's way of saying our business was done and I could leave. I rose to my feet immediately.
"Of course. I'll be heading out, then."
Armando bowed quickly and followed me out of the Dean's office.
"That's insane! Insane! Robert Mondavi said you're better than he was when he was young!"
"He was just being polite. Didn't you hear? He asked me for a favor, so he threw in a compliment so I wouldn't feel put out."
"You think that's all it was?"
"Obviously."
"Give me a break! Do you think I'm an idiot?"
"...... Let's just go. If we leave now, we'll make it right in time for dinner."
After somehow calming the excited Armando down and getting home, I still had to spend the rest of the evening enduring his breathless gushing before he finally settled down.
April was relentlessly busy, without a single moment to rest. Dad could now manage the farmhands and run the farm on his own without any issues, but the newly acquired Silver Oak farm site needed to be prepared, and I had to check everything myself.
Laying drainage pipes and breaking through the hardpan to reinforce the gravel layer was the key to creating a To Kalon-quality terroir, so these were details I had to monitor closely and adjust personally. Only by doing this could the vine roots find a path to grow deep.
After that, I adjusted the acidity, supplemented organic matter with compost and biochar, and used irrigation and gypsum to flush out salts, raising the soil quality to where it needed to be.
Checking off each task one by one, by the time May arrived, the soil had finally begun to stabilize.
"Ta-da! What do you think? Pretty good, right?"
Chloe had taken photos of her topworking, gotten them printed, and brought them to school to show off.
"It's fine, but... was it really worth printing out photos and bringing them here?"
I tilted my head, and Chloe's eyes immediately narrowed.
"But you did do a good job. You've been practicing a lot."
"Right? My success rate was over 85%. I had the highest success rate of all the farmhands."
"Ooh."
That was actually impressive.
"Well, you've always been good with your hands and sharp, so that makes sense."
"...... True. So how much did you end up doing?"
"Everything we set as the goal for this year. And I thought we'd take a big revenue hit since we lost 30% of the harvestable acreage, but it looks like the total yield might actually be higher than last year. Just like you said, the fertilization and moisture control made a real difference in quality, berry by berry. Dad's already brought in the retail buyers to tour the farm and negotiate prices, and he thinks we'll get at least 20% more than last year. The sugar content went up an average of 2 Brix compared to last year, too."
"Your dad really does have a knack for business."
"Of course. He's got a network he's built up over the years. Oh, and get this, you know William, that cranky old miser?"
"The Cherry Cooperative chairman?"
"Yeah. That cranky old miser showed up at our farm out of nowhere asking how we managed to get such high prices for our cherries. He was eyeing our trees the whole time. Hmph! As if he'd understand anything just by looking."
She shrugged with a haughty little sniff, clearly no fan of the man.
"Did he ask about the new cultivars?"
"No. I asked, but apparently he didn't bring up anything about the varieties. He only asked how we got the prices up."
"Ah... So he figured it was just a one-time stroke of luck?"
"Maybe. Or maybe he figured he'd get more out of the farmhands than out of asking my dad directly."
Come to think of it, that made sense. Farm laborers weren't permanent employees tied to a single farm, so if you wanted to learn about a rival operation, it was often more productive to ask the workers than the farm owner.
Wasn't that exactly what had happened when Armando went to the Silver Oak farm and discovered they'd been using pesticides?
"That's a relief. Once you wrap up this year's harvest, things should ease up a bit."
"Yeah. Then maybe I'll finally have some time to study. Oh, and can I come with you today?"
"What? Where?"
"You're going to prep for the Winkler Dinner today, aren't you? Maybe you need more people to taste the course?"
Her eyes sparkled with hope, but I gave her a pat on the shoulder.
"Sorry, but this one's closed to outsiders. Just grab dinner with Armando and Jacob after they get out of class."
"Tch..."
"Anyway, take care. I'm off to eat a course meal I don't particularly care for. Sometimes you've gotta do things you'd rather not. See ya."
I teased the visibly pouting Chloe and headed for the Robert Mondavi Institute, a bottle of vinegar in hand. When I arrived at the designated meeting spot, a black catering box was the first thing that caught my eye.
"Hello."
"Come in. You're Brian?"
"Yes, that's me."
"Daniel Rocane. I run a restaurant in San Francisco."
"Nice to meet you."
A man with a distinguished face and tattoos of indeterminate design on his arm stood waiting. Beside him was a young woman dressed in a sharp navy suit.
The woman, slender with brown hair, extended her hand first.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Emily Mondavi. My grandfather sent me, and I'm here to run the tasting with you today."
"Brian."
"Grandpa can't stop singing your praises. I've never seen him compliment a freshman like that... I was actually a little jealous."
"Ha ha... I just got lucky."
After the introductions, we opened the box on the table. Ice packs, a small induction burner, a gas burner, pots, pans, a basic knife, tongs, sauce bottles. Everything was neatly organized and accounted for.
"Want to go over the wine list first?"
"Sure."
Emily pulled out a sheet of paper and spread it on the table.
Private Selection Chardonnay
Private Selection Merlot
Private Selection Zinfandel
Private Selection Cabernet Sauvignon
Fumé Blanc
"As you've probably heard, this year's Winkler Dinner should be built around this lineup."
I'd already heard the story, so I simply shrugged and turned to the chef Mondavi had invited.
"You should taste them first. That'll help us figure out how to approach the pairing. Oh, and there's one thing I'd like to ask, now that I'm in charge of the Winkler Dinner. This grape vinegar, it's from our winery, so if you could work it in..."
Emily shrugged as if she didn't mind. Compared to the request to pair exclusively with Mondavi wines, a bottle of vinegar was a minor ask. The chef sniffed the vinegar and looked thoroughly pleased.
"This is nice. I've prepared four mini courses to start. Let's figure out which ones work best."
I took out a notebook and pen.
Olive oil spread thin across the heated pan, and once it was hot enough, Daniel laid down the scallop. A golden Maillard crust formed rapidly on the surface. Just before killing the heat, a few drops of the grape vinegar he'd received from me splashed across it. A drizzle of herb oil with parsley and mint, then onto the plate, finished with a fine dusting of salt for the appetizer.
"Here's the appetizer I prepared. Give it a try."
In truth, I had been lost in thought the entire time the chef cooked. I wasn't particularly interested in the food itself. All I could think about was why Robert Mondavi had attached his granddaughter to me.
"Would you like to try it first?"
"No, you go ahead."
Seeing Emily make a point of deferring, I picked up my fork and took a bite.
"Hmm..."
The scallop had a springy yet tender texture, with a subtle roasted aroma rising from the seared side. The acidity was milder than expected, and the herb oil tied everything together cleanly.
I furrowed my brow, then turned to Emily, who had been studying my expression intently.
"Are you really going to leave everything up to me?"
"Absolutely."
Watching Emily nod without a moment's hesitation, I understood. I understood why Robert Mondavi had sent her to me.
If they intended to leave everything to me from the start, there was no reason for her to be here at all. She could have asked the chef beside her about the Mondavi wines, or at the very least, just taken a sip to taste them. Yet they'd specifically attached her to me.
So Robert Mondavi was never really interested in promoting his wines in the first place.
When I thought about it, that made perfect sense. Who was I, that a major winery would need me to promote its underperforming wines?
What Robert Mondavi wanted was me. It was clearly an evaluation, sending his granddaughter to observe my thoughts on wine, my philosophy, my technique as I prepared for the Winkler Dinner, and to assess what kind of person I was.
"So what do you think would work?"
She asked with deeply curious eyes. I deliberated over how to respond. Should I mess with these cunning Mondavi people who were trying to peek inside my head? Or just pretend I hadn't noticed? But no matter how I looked at it, I couldn't just stand by and let them study me without acknowledging it.
"Oh, right. You should taste the wines first, shouldn't you? Want to try them?"
"That's alright. I already know what they're like."
A flicker of surprise crossed her eyes before she fixed her gaze directly on me.
"Really? Then what are you thinking?"
"Let's go with the Fumé Blanc. Bring the temperature down to 10°C. Narrow glass, no decanting."
"Huh? Why?"
Robert Mondavi thought of me as some kind of wine prodigy, but he had it wrong. The reason I knew so much about grapes and wine was because I had done that much research.
It wasn't instinct or some innate palate; it was the product of scientific thinking. And scientifically, the right pairing for this dish was the Fumé Blanc. The reason was simple: the dish's composition featured low acidity with sweetness and umami taking center stage.
Serving the wine cold makes the tongue perceive acidity more strongly, compensating for the dish's lack of acid. A white glass with a narrow bowl keeps the aromas concentrated instead of letting them dissipate, so the herb notes and wine aromas stay in harmony. No decanting, because this wine's aromatics were delicate to begin with.
"And I think I've seen enough of the food."
"What?"
To the stunned Emily, I scanned through the list of dishes Daniel had prepared and said:
"This one gets Private Selection Cabernet at 16 to 17°C, decanted for about 30 minutes. This one, Private Selection Zinfandel, but bring it down to 12 to 13°C, in a red glass just slightly smaller than medium bowl. This one, Private Selection Merlot, 15 to 16°C, wide-bowled red glass, no decanting..."
Unable to take it any longer, Emily burst out:
"What do you think you're doing? Do you think the Winkler Dinner is some kind of joke?"
I looked at her calmly and replied in an even tone.
"It's not. If you try the pairings, I think you'll find they work quite well. I had a wonderful time today. Chef, I'll come by separately to pay my proper respects."
I gave Emily a slight nod, offered Daniel a polite thank-you for the meal, and walked out of the institute.
"What in the... How could he...!"
Left behind, Emily stared at the list Daniel had prepared for a long time, then hurriedly began writing something down.
*****
Join our Discord for announcements or to report any mistakes.