Chapter 76: San Francisco Chronicle Wine Competition (2)
TL: Hanguk
The moment my name rang out from the stage of the San Francisco Convention Center, I thrust both arms high into the air.
The applause from the audience surged forward like a wave. Even I could hardly believe the announcement that Echelon and Sylphide had both taken Double Gold at the same time.
Camera flashes from the reporters below the stage burst one after another, and even the Chief Judge nodded and flashed me a smile.
"Two from a single winery... that's truly a rare sight."
"Redwood, huh. That's a name worth remembering now."
The comments reached my ears as I climbed up onto the platform. I accepted the Double Gold medal and tried to catch my breath as I slowly descended the stage, but my chest was still pounding.
A little while later, the Best of Class judging continued.
Echelon had been nominated in the Cabernet Sauvignon category, and Sylphide in the Pinot Noir category. Each time a glass on the table was tilted, a breathless tension hung in the air.
"Echelon, despite being a young wine, shows remarkable balance."
"Sylphide, delicate yet powerful... with astonishing complexity."
The judges' voices stirred a flicker of hope, but the results were cold and clinical. In the Cabernet Sauvignon category, Joseph Phelps Insignia took the final Best of Class, and in the Pinot Noir category, another famous winery from Russian River claimed it.
For an instant, disappointment washed over me, but the applause rolling in from the audience soon lifted me back up.
"Still, for Redwood to place in both categories at once, that's something incredible."
"For a new winery, that's an enormous achievement. If anything, today's real star is someone else entirely."
Under the gaze of the crowd, I lifted my head and looked up at the screen above the stage. The two names, Echelon and Sylphide, still shone brightly, and my heart swelled to overflowing.
At that moment, someone approached my side.
"Congratulations."
When I turned my head, two middle-aged men I already recognized were standing there. Mark Harrington I knew well since he had attended the Cerasia tasting, and I had seen Joseph Higgins at the alumni wine showcase.
"Ah, thank you. I didn't expect to run into you here."
"Did you come alone? Where's your father?"
Both men were looking for my father rather than me. Only natural. They could imagine me being involved in making the wine, but it would be hard for them to picture me actually leading production.
"My father couldn't make it today. I sent him off on a trip so he could finally rest after so long."
I hadn't been the only one buried in farm work. Dad and Mom had been working too, without a single proper break. I was young, so it was no issue for me, but my parents were running on fumes. So, once the important matters were roughly wrapped up, I sent them off on a two-week trip to unwind and catch their breath.
I could still picture my mother's face, delighted like a child.
"A trip...? At a time this important?"
But the two of them looked even more baffled by this.
"Uh... well, it's not really all that important. The red wine release we'd been preparing is done, and, well..."
The additional Cerasia release wouldn't be until late November or early December. Until then, there was no particular reason for my parents to be at the farm.
And the deciding factor was that every wine we had released was sold out. Nothing left in the warehouse. If we couldn't take a break now, when would we?
Perhaps sensing the relaxed air about me, Joseph Higgins asked with a slightly puzzled look.
"Don't tell me the released wines are all gone?"
"Yes... but they weren't large quantities to begin with. Echelon was only 2,000 cases, and Sylphide was 3,000 cases."
"Hmm..."
By the standards of Harrington Winery or Castello Winery, those were certainly tiny volumes. The two men glanced at each other briefly. Then Mark turned to me and spoke.
"Did you secure Pinot Noir again this year as well?"
"Yes. We'll probably be releasing a similar amount next year too."
A trace of relief crossed Mark's face at that. It was obvious he'd been worried that if ten times the 3,000 cases of Sylphide hit the market, it would deal a blow to his own winery.
Honestly, I would've loved to produce 30,000 cases, but that was still too much for now. And if I tried to contract more Pinot Noir by the block at this point, they'd charge an incomparably higher price than when I'd first signed, so I was still weighing how much additional production to push for.
"I see."
This time Joseph Higgins asked.
"And Echelon?"
The direct competitor to Castello Winery, whose flagship was Cabernet Sauvignon, was Echelon.
"Around 4,000 cases, I'd say?"
The moment I mentioned doubling the production, I saw the corners of his eyes twitch slightly. It was still far less than their own capacity, but the prospect of the soon-to-release flagship wine doubling clearly didn't sit well with him.
"4,000 cases... I see. Well, congratulations all the same. In the long run, having good wine continue to come out of Napa Valley is a good thing for all of us."
In truth, what Joseph said wasn't wrong. In the long run, if well-regarded wineries kept emerging in Napa Valley, the Napa Valley brand itself would rise, pulling prices up along with it.
The problem was the absurd gap between the profits of the winery doing the work of elevating that brand reputation and those of the wineries that simply rode the coattails of the rising brand.
"Thank you. I'll have to work hard to keep earning good reviews."
My words of thanks made both of their faces stiffen further.
"R-right, you do that."
"......"
Joseph Higgins gave an awkward laugh and patted my shoulder, while Mark Harrington simply stared at me with a conflicted look in his eyes.
Three days after the wine event in San Francisco, an unfamiliar car pulled up in the front yard of Redwood Winery. A middle-aged man stepped out of the black SUV, smoothed his neat suit, and glanced around the farm. A smile crossed his face at the particular desolation of a vineyard after harvest.
"So this is where it was made, huh...?"
A younger man climbing out behind him captured the scenery with his camera and remarked,
"They say the owner here is Asian. Two Double Golds... is that even possible?"
"That's what I'm curious about too. How on earth it's possible. Echelon's nearly impossible to get ahold of now, so I definitely need to walk out with at least one bottle."
He had come from New York, and the moment he'd seen the news, he had secured no fewer than three bottles of Sylphide for himself, satisfied. Word on the street was that Sylphide had been distributed mainly along the East Coast while Echelon had been released on the West, and Echelon, which had hit the market first, was being called harder to find than stars in the sky.
Sylphide, at least, still hadn't reached everyone's ears yet, so anyone who truly wanted it could still get ahold of some.
Passing through the farm entrance and slowly making his way up to the winery, he met the young man waiting for him and offered a greeting.
"Redwood Winery, correct?"
A deep, attractive voice. He promptly pulled out a business card and handed it to the young Asian man. Simply having met an Asian was enough to confirm he'd come to the right place.
[Michael Lowell. Senior Editor, Wine Enthusiast]
Wine Enthusiast was a major American wine magazine, frequently compared to Wine Spectator. Taking the card, I smiled.
"Thank you for coming."
"Two Double Golds at once. The moment I heard, I got straight on a plane. I thought a single line in an article wouldn't do it justice."
"I'm sorry, but my father, the owner, isn't here. What should we do?"
"We spoke on the phone already. Your father said he relies on you heavily, you know? He said it would be better if you handled the interview in his place, so we're not bothered at all."
"In that case, well... shall we start with photos?"
"Thank you."
Michael's gaze was already sweeping across the vineyard. At his signal, the cameraman began photographing the aging cellar and the building's exterior.
When the door to the aging cellar opened, cool air flowed out carrying the scent of oak barrels. Michael inhaled deeply and nodded.
"This aroma... there's a depth here you don't usually find in a new winery. Do you blend French oak and American oak?"
I answered, momentarily taken aback.
"Yes, for the Cabernet we used 70% French oak and 30% American. For the Pinot Noir, to preserve the softness of Russian River, we use only French oak, but since it's custom crush, it isn't here."
"And how did you set the toast level? Medium? Medium+?"
The questions were sharp. The kind of expertise that could gauge a wine just from the scent of the aging cellar, without tasting it.
"Cabernet was Medium+, Pinot Noir was Medium. For the Pinot, I didn't want to kill the fruit aromas."
Michael jotted something down in his notebook quickly while observing me. I knew exactly what that expectant look in his eyes meant. It was clearly a signal to hurry up and bring out the wines I had prepared.
The released wines were essentially all gone, but just in case, we kept roughly five cases of each at the winery. So I went down and brought up both the Echelon and Sylphide stored in the aging cellar myself.
First, I opened the Echelon with an opener and poured it into a decanter. Michael watched, captivated, as the red liquid flowed through the clear glass.
"I'll let the Echelon sit for a bit to let the aromas open up. So please try the Sylphide first."
This time I opened the Sylphide and poured it into a clear, transparent glass, and camera shutters clicked one after another. Michael swirled the glass, observing the color clinging to the walls.
"Russian River Valley Single Vineyard... fascinating. Pinot Noir is usually so delicate that new wineries don't often attempt it. Why did you choose this? It can't really be because of Sideways, since you'd already pre-purchased the grapes before that; the timing doesn't quite line up."
"I thought of it as a challenge from the start, but I wasn't particularly afraid. And I felt Pinot Noir had a special character that our farm's Cabernet Sauvignon couldn't express, and I found that very appealing. So I wanted to give it a try alongside. I had faith that even if it didn't work out, I wouldn't take a loss."
Michael lifted the glass, inhaled the aroma, and closed his eyes for a moment.
"...raspberry, violet, and a subtle spice note. Hard to believe this came from such a short aging period."
"Thank you."
Taking a sip of the Sylphide, Michael closed his eyes again and let the lingering finish sink in. Then he slowly opened them and gazed at the glass in his hand with admiration.
"So that's it. This is why it won Double Gold. To produce a Russian River Valley Pinot Noir in just a year... astonishing."
"Thank you."
"You know, I've heard Sylphide has been distributed heavily in the eastern U.S., unlike Echelon. Is there a particular reason for that?"
"Ah, that's the distributor's strategy. We weren't particularly involved."
"Ah... is that so?"
"In Echelon's case, the distributor handling it operates locally, so it stayed within California. For Sylphide, it's a different distributor, so they're using a different strategy."
"It's interesting that a single winery can use different distributors."
"Haha, it just worked out that way."
"I've heard Echelon's become difficult to find already...?"
"Apart from the few bottles we have at the winery, it'll probably be hard to find on the market. Only 2,000 cases were ever released..."
His eyes sparkled.
"Do you happen to have any Echelon on hand?"
He was asking with barely concealed anticipation, knowing full well I had some. Wine Enthusiast had its own review and rating system, so there was no way I could send him off without tucking a bottle under his arm.
"Yes, one bottle or so..."
Michael's face lit up with a touched expression, and he immediately gestured toward the Echelon that was decanting.
"And that one...?"
"Haha, I'll pack that up for you right away."
"Hahahaha! Thank you. I'll have to savor it."
Michael let out a laugh of pure delight, then looked at me with sparkling eyes, lowering his voice to ask, almost conspiratorially,
"Taking home two Double Golds at the same time has vaulted you into the role of Napa Valley's dark horse overnight. From now on, everyone's going to have their eyes on Redwood Winery, and the 2005 Echelon and Sylphide are going to be priced very differently from what they are now, wouldn't you say?"
"Hmm... nothing's been decided on pricing yet..."
I dodged a direct answer, but he simply smiled meaningfully, as if he already knew the answer, and went on.
"Redwood Winery is clearly smaller in scale than the existing large wineries of Napa and Sonoma. I'm curious how you plan to overcome that going forward. Will you simply continue as a small winery, preserving Redwood's unique character...?"
"It's something I've been thinking about, but for Sylphide, which we produce through contract winemaking, I plan to focus on consistently securing excellent Pinot Noir."
"Oh, so you're planning to release more Sylphide?"
"Next year will be difficult, but I think the year after that it'll be possible. And along with that, we're also considering expanding the farm."
He looked at me with an expression of wonder.
"Pouring your earnings straight back into expanding the farm... Redwood's future is starting to intrigue me. Once our magazine runs the article on Echelon and Sylphide, the thousands of cases of Sylphide distributed along the East Coast will vanish without a trace. But that isn't necessarily a good thing. Wine lovers will remember Redwood's 2004 Sylphide going forward. If the vintages that follow don't live up to expectations..."
He was already certain that next year's Echelon and Sylphide would become cult wines priced over $100. It would bring the winery enormous profit, but if the quality of those wines couldn't keep pace, wine magazines and critics would be merciless.
"I know. It will only be more disappointing."
At my attitude, speaking as if it were obvious and without a trace of concern, Michael nodded, then drained the Sylphide in one go. And he stared intently at the Echelon, whose flavors were just reaching their peak.
After letting enough time pass chatting about wine, Michael finally took a sip of the decanted Echelon.
"My goodness..."
Greatly struck by its heavy structure and balance, he looked at me, hesitated for a moment, then spoke.
"Would it be possible to buy one more bottle of Echelon? Not for myself, but there's someone I absolutely want to give it to as a gift."
Seeing the conflicted look in his eyes, I simply couldn't bring myself to say no.
*****
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