Chapter 65: 2005 Vintage Cerasia (2)
TL: Hanguk
A wholesale market near San Francisco.
Before the sun had fully risen, forklifts rumbled back and forth, their rough engine noise and the shrill of whistles filling the air.
Frederick carefully backed his Volvo VNL 53ft reefer trailer into the designated dock line. As he climbed down, Chloe, who had ridden in the passenger seat, hopped out after him and helped open the rear doors of the trailer. The moment they swung open, a sweet cherry fragrance washed over them.
"Just one box for now."
Frederick pulled out a single box of cherries from the cargo bed. It was tightly wrapped in shrink film, and on the side, a blue stamp was printed.
HE Harris Orchards
Pack Date: 05/18
Block: C-4 / Var: Bing
Chloe pressed her finger against the stamp. A faint trace of ink came off on her fingertip.
"How much of the forward purchase volume came through?"
"320 tons. 100 tons go to Redwood, and since total production this year is 980 tons, that leaves 560 tons we need to sell."
"Dad, isn't it amazing? We cut down 30% of the farm for topworking, so how is the production barely any different?"
The results were so remarkable that even Frederick was stunned.
"It's an absurd outcome. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed it. It's not just the yield, either. Up until last year, we were throwing out a significant amount even after harvest."
"Ah, because a lot of what you harvested wasn't marketable?"
"Exactly. But now, almost everything we harvest has outstanding market quality, so there's virtually nothing to throw away."
He proudly set the box down, and a market inspector approached with a clipboard. A small thermometer hung around his neck, and a snap-blade cutter was tucked into his belt.
"Shipper... Frederick, right? You came with your daughter?"
The two clearly knew each other well.
"That's right. This is my daughter, the one who'll be taking over the cherry farm."
Frederick placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder and smiled proudly. Chloe felt both proud and gratified to see her father like that.
"You've raised her well. Alright. Origin is Brentwood. HE Harris. I'll open one sample."
The inspector ran his cutter along the box tape. He peeled back a thin sheet containing an ice pack and lifted out an entire top row. He jabbed his thermometer into the center of the fruit. After a moment, the reading appeared on the display.
"6.1°C."
He picked up two cherries, gave them a gentle squeeze with his fingers, and bit into one. The quiet crunch of firm flesh could be heard.
"Good freshness, nice and firm. What's the volume?"
"We brought 20 tons today, and another 540 tons are available."
"Alright. Bring out two pallets."
"Sure."
Frederick had his people bring two pallets of cherries from the refrigerated truck, then pulled Chloe aside and spoke in a near whisper.
"From here, we just wait. When someone comes over, picks one up, and starts saying something interested, that's when it begins."
Sure enough, people who had been watching from a distance began gathering one by one. A buyer with a purchasing company logo on his cap, a middle-aged man who seemed to represent a small merchants' association, and a young man in a chef's jacket despite the early hour. Each of them pulled on vinyl gloves, opened a box, and lifted cherries out one at a time. They rolled them in their palms, gave them a squeeze, and bit into them whole.
"Color's uniform."
"18 Brix? That's high for Bing cherries. No bitterness either."
One buyer spoke up.
"Today's price per flat... starting at fifteen."
Another immediately followed.
"Sixteen."
"Sixteen-fifty."
"Seventeen."
The numbers weren't climbing dramatically, but the expressions around them were growing more serious. Rising prices were a signal that the cherries in this lot were quite good. Chloe let out a small breath and gripped her father's arm tightly.
"What does that mean?"
"A flat is the most basic unit used in cherry trading. One flat is 11 pounds (about 5 kg). Calling fifteen means fifteen dollars per flat."
"Oh..."
Regardless of their whispered exchange, the bidding continued.
"Seventeen-fifty."
Another buyer crossed his arms and tilted his head back.
"Eighteen."
Frederick's eyes narrowed slightly. His expression remained neutral, but his hand stayed at his hip. Just then, another buyer cut in, holding up a row from a box.
"These are size 9.5. Gotta pay more than for 10.5."
"The sizes aren't mixed. Every row's got a print label, so check for yourself."
"Then we price it row by row."
A brief standoff followed, and the numbers inched upward again.
"Eighteen-fifty."
"Nineteen."
The inspector came back and opened the second box, placing a handful of dewy cherries onto a vinyl tray. Frederick stepped half a pace back toward Chloe and said in a low voice.
"It's already more than 20% above market price."
"Right now?"
"Yeah. If it goes higher, great. Even if it closes here, it's not bad."
Chloe fought to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her lips when she heard the price had climbed 20% above market.
"Nineteen-fifty."
"Twenty."
The buyer who had been standing with his arms crossed spoke up one last time and handed over a business card.
"How much total do you have?"
The card he extended read MD for Whole Foods Market, one of America's premier supermarket chains. Frederick allowed himself a faint smile.
"About 3,900 flats (roughly 20 tons)."
Arithmetically, 20 tons should yield 4,000 flats, but after grading, losses, and packing variance, most loads came out to 3,600 to 3,800 flats. Assuming relatively uniform grades and minimal loss, Frederick had quoted 3,900.
"Then how about nineteen-fifty for the full lot today?"
"That works."
In a single deal, he sold the 20 tons of cherries he had brought for $76,000. The purchasing agent crouched down and wrote out the invoice by hand, recording the company name, quantity, row basis, size, unit price, and total.
"Thirty percent deposit."
The buyer unclipped a gray money belt and handed over a cash envelope.
"And the balance?"
"We'll settle by check once receiving inspection is complete."
Frederick signed the signature line with a clean stroke. Before the ink dried, he watched Chloe stamp the seal with a dazed expression on her face.
"Wow... that went well, right?"
"It did. Someday, you'll have to come here and do what I just did, all on your own."
"I can do it. I know I can."
Frederick, in high spirits, gave his daughter's shoulder a pat. Just as when they had closed the 320-ton forward purchase contract, a flood of thoughts raced through his mind now that they had secured another good price.
And the same was true for Chloe. Having watched with her own eyes as the cherries they had worked all year to grow bore fruit and sold above market price, an indescribable swell of emotion rose up inside her.
Just as Chloe's eyes began to glisten, someone appeared and doused their warm feelings like a splash of cold water.
"Frederick?"
They turned to see William Hartford approaching, his large belly leading the way. The paper in his hand looked like an invoice, and his expression carried an unmistakable tinge of irritation.
"I heard you sold at quite a premium?"
"Ha ha, got lucky."
"Good for you. If you're raising the value of Brentwood cherries like that, it's good for all of us. But is this the stuff?"
William had known for some time that Frederick's Harris Farm had been doing something unconventional, but he had never paid it any mind. He was the type who believed in traditional farming methods and considered anything else a waste of effort.
So this was the first time he had actually taken a proper look at the cherries coming out of Harris Farm.
"Hmm..."
The average cherry price hovered around $15 per flat. He hadn't believed the rumors that Harris Farm was getting over $19, but now that he had come to see for himself, there was a clear difference from the cherries his own farm produced. The freshness, the texture... if they hadn't already been sold, he would have wanted to taste one.
"How'd you pull this off?"
"Sorry, but we entered a strategic partnership with another farm and received their farming methods as part of the deal. I can't really talk about it."
"Come on... you expect me to believe that?"
"No, it's true. It wasn't free, either. We paid good money for the consulting."
The moment he heard it had cost money, William swallowed the request to share.
"I see..."
"Well, we'd better get going..."
Frederick hurried his daughter away from the exchange before William could say anything else. And William stood there for a long time, staring at the cherries the broker was guarding.
It was a week later, after dealing with the endless flood of cherries until my entire body reeked of them. I had thought 10 tons was a lot when I first made wine from them last year, but turning 100 tons into wine was something the word "hard" alone couldn't capture.
Even running the machines nonstop to pit the cherries and juice them, the mountains of cherries kept coming, enough to haunt my dreams like some kind of monster.
After collecting all the cherry juice in the winery's existing equipment and the recently purchased stainless steel fermentation tanks, the total came to 65,000 liters. Remarkably, it fit the newly expanded tank capacity exactly.
Factoring in a 9% loss rate, the final wine output would come to just under 60,000 liters.
"Let's make this one count, too."
I was standing before the last 5,000-liter fermentation tank, inoculating it with the same three yeasts and fermentation starter as before, Lalvin RC212, Lalvin 71B-1122 Narbonne, and Torulaspora delbrueckii, when it happened.
"Brian!"
Armando's voice rang out from outside. The aging cellar was off-limits to anyone unauthorized, so aside from me and my father, no one could enter. That meant people like Armando had to either shout for me or call.
When I stepped out of the aging cellar, an unexpected figure was standing next to Armando. It was Sienna, the beauty with long legs and a perpetual smirk.
"What brings you here...?"
"The Agricultural Extension Office told students to participate in an organic farm tour for young farmers. I came to lead the underclassmen."
"Ah, so you're basically a kindergarten teacher?"
"Pretty much. And I have business with you, too."
"With me?"
At that moment, Armando puckered his lips and made a ridiculous face. I waved him off, motioning for him to leave.
"If you two talk alone for more than ten minutes, I'm calling Chloe."
"Shut up! Get out of here!"
"I'm watching! Chloe will..."
After chasing Armando off and turning back, Sienna wore an amused expression.
"So are you dating this Chloe girl?"
"... If you're going to say weird stuff too, you can just leave."
"Oh my, you don't look like the type, but you're actually pretty prickly, aren't you?"
"....."
"Fine. It's nothing serious, but... why didn't you show up the day of the Winkler Dinner? Your advisor was really disappointed."
I shrugged.
"I did everything I could. I set up all the pairings."
"When problems come up on-site, you need to be the one handling them. That's a sommelier's job."
"I'm not a sommelier. I'm a farmer and a winemaker. Dean Thomas Edward asked me to help, so I helped. That's all."
"Ha, you're really something. Wouldn't just showing up to the event have been a chance to make a good impression on the professors?"
She had a point, but what I needed was decent grades and decent connections, nothing more. Anything beyond that could only be earned through ability alone, and that was what I believed. Attending school and earning credits was simply the minimum safeguard against being dismissed as an Asian winemaker.
"A well-made wine speaks for itself. I don't need to go out of my way to impress the professors."
"Tch..."
Looking vexed for reasons I couldn't quite pin down, she pulled something from her bag and held it out.
"What's this?"
"A ticket. This year's Winkler Dinner did well. So they're giving some students a chance to tour the Château Latour winery in France..."
I didn't let her finish and pushed the ticket back toward her.
"I don't need it."
"Excuse me?"
Sienna's eyes filled with disbelief.
"I don't have the luxury of going off to France for a leisurely tour right now."
"What are you talking about? Can't your parents handle the farm? It's Château Latour!"
"I know. A winery that produces one of the greatest wines in the world, considered the pinnacle of Premier Cru Classé Bordeaux. But... I told you, I'm busy."
"Oh come on, how busy can you possibly be..."
"I have a ton to do. I've been juicing cherries and running fermentation all week. Now I have to keep monitoring the fermentation, redo the production plan for next year's vinegar, design the label for the wine that's about to launch... I wouldn't have enough time even with ten of me. France? In the middle of all this?"
"......"
Sienna stared at Brian, mouth agape, as he treated an opportunity anyone would kill for like a piece of dog droppings on the sidewalk.
"O-okay... if that's how it is..."
"Please pass it along to the Dean for me. If it doesn't work out, I can tell him myself."
"But you're making cherry wine again this year? Last year's got great reviews, so I'd expect a lot from this one."
"Well... last year I could only produce so much, just 8,000 bottles. This year, I think I can get up to 80,000."
Sienna blinked at the grin on my face. After a brief moment of mental arithmetic, she spoke.
"Last year it was $18, right? Yeah? 80,000 bottles would be... one, one point four million dollars?"
"Wow, you're fast with numbers."
Picturing $1.4 million in annual revenue, Sienna swallowed hard.
*****
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