Chapter 47: Farm Upgrade (4)

TL: Hanguk

Late night in San Francisco.

“Go to sleep first.”

Christopher kissed Jane on the head and turned off the light. Jane, wearing a faintly happy smile, quietly muttered.

“That damn wine...”

Christopher White opened the old laptop sitting by the window and began tapping on the keyboard. Worried he might disturb Jane’s sleep, only the desk lamp was helping him work, and beside it sat a half-emptied bottle of Cerasia. He had bought an extra bottle on the way out of the restaurant.

[Brentwood Cherry Wine, Beyond the Prejudice]

He typed the title and paused his fingers for a moment. It was because the embarrassing feeling he’d had resurfaced. It felt as if the world were scolding him, who had prided himself on knowing a lot about wine, saying, “There’s something like this in the world, too.” So Christopher poured the emotions he had felt, exactly as they were, into his writing.

-Up to now, whenever I heard “cherry wine", I dismissed it as some sweet fruit liquor. I think many people probably think the same way I do. Not a serious wine, but something like a kids’ drink pretending to be wine. But the pairing I experienced at Blaze Bistro shattered that stereotype.

He picked up the Cerasia he had personally bought, took a photo with the camera, and uploaded it into the middle of the manuscript. Cerasia’s simple, refined label boosted the manuscript’s credibility.

-....... Seared scallops served with lobster and cherry gastrique sauce. The cherry wine in my glass at that moment was when everything I thought I knew was overturned. It is clearly different from Pinot Noir’s delicate acidity and raspberry aroma, Chardonnay’s creamy texture with apple and citrus notes, or Cabernet Sauvignon’s weighty structure. It belongs to none of them, and yet, from a place that is unfamiliar and still not strange, it speaks in its own voice.

What must be made clear is that Cerasia is not the pinnacle of high quality, but rather a new branch that did not exist before.

Christopher transferred the feelings of that fresh shock directly into sentences. He soon continued the paragraph.

-Cerasia is not what we commonly call a fruit wine, but if you drink it with expectations set too high, you might end up disappointed instead.

Even if this isn't some grand proclamation, for those who have grown tired of existing wines, it's worth trying at least once. What’s more, the price is low, so there’s no burden in enjoying a new attempt. If you want to find the distinctive character of cherry wine, I recommend Cerasia.

The moment he pressed the send button, the manuscript was transferred to the wine journal’s headquarters server.

"Redwood... Cherry wine is just pocket money for them, right? Right?"

If it wasn’t, he felt like he might be a little disappointed.

***

The day after a column about Cerasia was sent from somewhere in California, when it hadn’t even made it into the magazine yet...

“Huh? 30 cases? Understood. Today’s tough, but tomorrow is possible.”

“Forty-five cases right now... I need to check the inventory.”

I was about to fill out the order sheet, then stopped for the moment. It was because, as orders poured in like a flood more than I’d expected, I realized there wouldn’t be much inventory left. No matter how well it sold, it had been ten tons of cherries, and with that we’d made as many as 8,000 bottles, but I’d never imagined we’d run out before December Christmas even arrived.

In truth, this happened thanks to the us declaring at the tasting event that there were only 8,000 bottles. With customers reacting so well, it was natural they wanted to secure it in advance, and since Cerasia was cheap enough to cost only half to a third of a Pinot Noir, there was also no burden to stockpile it.

In the end, leaving two cases just in case to give as gifts or keep, everything was sold out.

"Does this even make sense?"

Mom, who had just finished preparing the workers’ meal and come out, made a face like she couldn’t believe it at my words that the inventory had bottomed out. When Dad comes back this evening, we load up the last of what’s going out tomorrow, return the vehicle, and it’s over.

“I didn’t think it would do this well either.”

This is sincere. I had expected that if we created a cherry wine different from the existing ones, there would definitely be considerable demand, but I hadn’t thought the speed would be this fast. For a moment I wondered if, knowing it would turn out like this, I should have pushed myself and taken twenty tons, but I forced that thought away.

At the level of this small winery, rather than constantly pushing volume to the limit, it’s right to steadily build up the substance and expand the facilities. And what mattered was that by bringing in seventy thousand dollars from cherry wine, the tight cash flow could finally breathe. Anything beyond that is greed.

“You worked hard.”

“Worked hard? It was fun. Dad’s the one who works hard delivering. I’m going to go over to Chloe’s farm now.”

“Yeah. Be careful driving on the way.”

“Yep, yep.”

Before leaving, I called for Armando. Armando, who had been riding a small tractor between the grapevines planting cover crops, was now quite skilled and gave off an experienced vibe.

“I’m going to Chloe’s and back, so rest in the office and take any calls that come in.”

“Ooh! Sounds good!”

At the instruction to stand by in the office, Armando’s face brightened. Since Armando was a student and needed to study, if there was no work sometimes I would give him time and tell him to study in the office.

"The wine inventory is out, so just decline them nicely."

“What? Already?”

“Yeah. There are two cases left in the warehouse, but we’re keeping those, so just leave them as they are.”

“Wow~ That's unbelievable. If you take a hundred tons next year and make it, how much money is that?”

“It’ll be a bit over nine hundred thousand dollars in profit for our farm, I think?”

Armando's jaw dropped.

“Nine hundred thousand dollars from cherry wine alone? You’re going to be totally rich!”

“If it all sells. It might not all sell. That’s why if we have inventory left the first year, it’s a big problem. We might have to adjust the price, and we might have to go do sales on the U.S. East Coast. When that time comes, you and I can even go to New York together.”

“Ooh! Nice! I’m totally a New York type of person.”

“... Have you ever been to New York?”

“No. Not at all. But don’t doubt that I’m a New York type of person.”

“...... Fine. Take the calls properly.”

With that, I got into my old pickup truck and headed for Brentwood.

When I arrived at the wide open lot where Harris Farm was making biochar, the biochar that had been piled up like a mountain had been drastically reduced. It seemed they’d had workers at it for nearly half a month, and the huge job was almost finished.

I parked in the lot and got out, and from far away I saw a big man approaching. It was Frederick, with big hands and broad shoulders.

“You’re here?”

"Have you been doing well? That huge pile has almost decreased?"

"Time just couldn't be dragged out any longer. It's fortunate there wasn't much rain this year; if there had been a lot, it would have been a headache. And the work you instructed isn't that difficult anyway."

“Of course. It’s something anyone can do if they’re not an idiot.”

It wasn't work too difficult that it couldn't be left to the workers. It was just digging circular trenches around the base of small cherry trees and putting in the charcoal that had been made with so much effort. Covering it with soil afterward was nothing at all.

“Brandon seems to be following along well, too. It’s thanks to you teaching him well."

He’d given the cherry farm to his daughter, but I could tell he was still paying attention to his son.

"I didn’t really do anything. And when I looked at Brandon, he didn’t seem to have any wariness or rejection toward farming itself, surprisingly.”

“Surprisingly? Hmm... I guess your first impression of him wasn’t good?”

“Well... it was like that. But watching him up close, he picked it up pretty well.”

Since I said only good things, Mr. Frederick gave me a look like that was unexpected.

“Really?”

“Yes. Just... other than the fact that he looked like his head was a bit complicated?”

Maybe my explanation was a bit strange, because Mr. Frederick tilted his head. At that moment, from far away, I saw someone walking straight toward us.

“It’s Raymond.”

Raymond, who hurried over with his shaggy black hair flying, spoke to Frederick with an expression that looked somewhat aggrieved.

“Sir, if you do it like this, I can’t guarantee next year’s cherry farming results right away. This is... a farming method I’ve never even heard of, never experienced!”

In truth, from the standpoint of a third party, there wasn’t a single thing wrong with what he said. Out of the blue, they listened to the words of a mere college student, made charcoal out of 500 tons of wood and 250 tons of fertilizer, and spread it over the farm. It wasn’t hard to understand how flustered he would be as the farm manager.

Of course, Frederick also wore an awkward expression. He was doing it because he trusted his daughter’s friend, but it would have been embarrassing for him as well to say he’d gone and done this purely on faith to the farm manager.

“Didn’t you say there was a basis for it?”

He suddenly turned the arrow toward me, and

“Ah, of course. Charcoal is incredibly helpful to the soil. It holds water and nutrients for a long time, helps microorganisms reproduce well, and it also saves irrigation costs and fertilizer costs.”

"Good heavens... You believe those words?"

“Mm... I do believe him.”

“Sir, you can’t do that. I never thought something like this would happen while I was focusing on the walnut orchard...”

He looked around the farm, unable to hide his dismay. And then he immediately spoke to Frederick again.

"You must stop this strange work immediately. We need to prepare for spring starting now so there won't be problems with next year's harvest."

But Frederick kept walking with only a peculiar smile, and naturally the three of us ended up heading into the middle of the farm. And there, the brother and sister were diligently burying biochar together with the workers.

“You’re working hard, aren’t you?”

At Frederick’s voice, everyone turned their heads, and among them Chloe spotted me and waved her shovel around.

“Come help me!”

Frederick looked at me, but I shrugged as if I hadn’t heard.

“Looks like it’s really tough.”

“You’ll live happily later on.”

What did he mean by that?

“Thank you.”

“......”

“Anyway, it looks like things are going well.”

At this, Brandon jabbed his shovel deep into the ground and snapped at Frederick.

“Dad, stop this already. Mr. Raymond said it’ll grow perfectly fine if we just fertilize well!”

By the standards of this era, that wasn't wrong. The problem is that my method is one that makes harvests exceed the standards of this era.

“That’s right. Even without doing this, I can make sure there’s absolutely no problem on the farm. I admit that I lost your trust before because of the aphid problem, sir, but not like this.”

With Raymond gaining Brandon’s support and pressing strongly once again, Frederick also looked troubled. Just as Chloe was about to raise her eyebrows and say something because she couldn’t stand it anymore, I cut in.

“That fertilizer... when you came to our winery before and showed us the cost breakdown, I saw that the expenses for fertilizer were pretty high, weren’t they? It was over eighty thousand dollars.”

At my words, everyone paid attention, and Frederick nodded in agreement.

“That’s right.”

“What do you usually use that you spend that much? I did the math, and no matter how generously I estimate, it seems like sixty thousand dollars would be enough.”

In an instant, Frederick’s head turned toward Raymond. With the arrow now pointing back at him, Raymond looked flustered for a moment, then confessed as if there was nothing to hide.

“Ammonium nitrate, urea, DAP (Diammonium Phosphate), lime or gypsum... well, things like that.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.”

He even made a face like, what can you possibly figure out from this? I turned my head to Frederick.

“Do you know what the ratios are among those?”

"Not to that extent..."

"Alright. Shall we go to the warehouse?"

At my words, Frederick nodded as if entranced, and just like that, before we knew it, we got in the car and headed to the warehouse. Since the farm was so wide, it took about ten minutes of driving before we finally arrived. It was old, with a worn and shabby exterior, but it didn’t look like it would collapse at any moment.

With a creak, we flung the warehouse door open, and a stale, musty smell rushed out.

“Go in and take a look.”

Raymond gestured with an unpleasant expression. He was probably displeased by the behavior of an Asian who was prying into his work in such detail. But I didn’t care, and after going into the warehouse and looking over the fertilizer piled up like a mountain, I pointed at a sack that said [UREA 46-0-0] and asked.

"There's an overwhelming amount of Urea? Why is that?"

In that moment, Raymond looked slightly flustered.

“T-That’s... obviously because nitrogen is the most important thing in farming...”

In UREA 46-0-0, the numbers mean that nitrogen is 46%, and phosphorus and potassium are 0%, meaning it is a pure nitrogen fertilizer.

“What about SOP (Sulfate of Potash)?”

“That’s over there...”

“Is this all?”

When I saw [SOP 0-0-50] piled in a small stack in one corner and asked with a dumbfounded expression, his hands visibly began to shake.

"This amount alone produces sufficient effect, and you don't even know anything..."

But even from this alone, I could clearly see how Harris Farm had been managed all this time. Most cherry farms in this period were probably like this, but they had been applying fertilizer in an extremely inefficient way. More than half the people wouldn’t even know that applying it like this was wrong. On top of that, I could also tell that the farm manager had been pulling tricks with the fertilizer payments.

I turned my head to look at Frederick and said, shaking my head side to side.

"He's been pouring excessive nitrogen into the soil with cheap Urea. You'll need to check the purchase orders and delivery receipts to find out since when this has been going on."

Now that I looked at it, creating the mites by over-applying nitrogen fertilizer wasn't to make Chloe lose, but rather it seemed to be a consequence of over-purchasing nitrogen fertilizer to skim the fertilizer costs.

“Raymond!”

At the authority in Frederick’s shout, like thunder striking, Raymond’s legs trembled.

“S-sir. That’s...”

*****

Author’s Note

I found one of the Urea fertilizer sack images.