Our brief trip to France was now nearing its end. Both Chloe and I ran farms, so even if we had left them in the hands of people we could trust, we couldn’t stay away for long.
Just before leaving, I called Daniel and Luca down to the cellar. Amid the analysis equipment humming away, the two of them wore remarkably solemn expressions.
Luca in particular had lost every trace of the defensive attitude he’d had when he first came here. Now he was reacting keenly to every instruction that came out of my mouth, taking it all in.
It was probably because of the story from last night—that I had flattened the nose of Christian Moueix, the man called the King of Bordeaux.
“Daniel, make sure you familiarize yourself with this data sheet. While I’m in Napa, your top priority is classification.”
I held out dozens of graphs printed from the HPLC.
“Something astonishing happened yesterday, but we mustn’t be mistaken. The wine we presented to Christian yesterday was the result of refining and blending barrels that we had selected again and again.
Of the five hundred thousand bottles’ worth of base wine Durand left crammed into oak barrels, probably more than sixty percent really is hopeless garbage.
No matter how much we run the machines or carry out protein fining, we can’t revive wine whose fruit has already died and oxidized into something Grand Cru–level.”
“I’m fully aware of that.”
“Daniel, your job is to take this microscope and conduct a complete inspection of all five hundred thousand bottles’ worth of waste.”
Pointing to the red line on the data sheet, I continued.
“Group One is badly oxidized. Send it to the distillery without regret. Group Two is only harsh in tannin, so operate on it with the collage technique and move it out as bulk wine.
And only Group Three—only the ones that can be made clean-tasting through physical repair alone—will be selected and released under a low-priced label with the Belle Epoque name removed.”
“So these are the only ones capable of reproducing yesterday’s miracle.”
“That’s right. Our goal is to generate cash that can help cover the operating costs here. Clean quality is enough. We’ll use the money from selling it to cover the cost of replacing the varietals.
Daniel, what you’re doing here is not art. You’re becoming the person responsible for running an efficient recycling plant. Can you do it?”
As though he found the realistic proposal trustworthy, he nodded vigorously.
“Understood. This, too, is work a winemaker must do, so I’ll make sure it’s done without mistakes.”
“Good.”
I turned my gaze to Luca. He was gripping the vineyard block map I had handed him tightly in his hand.
“Luca, your mission will be the hardest. Once the excavators come in tomorrow, the villagers will rise up. To them, the sight of Merlot, Bordeaux’s pride, being uprooted will look like sacrilege.”
“I know, Master. I haven’t forgotten that this land was hell for Merlot. No matter who tries to stop me, I’ll push ahead according to the plans. So that the wine you want can be made.”
“Good. If anything happens, contact me immediately. Even if my body is in Napa, my nerves will always be turned toward Belle Epoque.”
After saying our goodbyes, we came out to the entrance of the mansion, where Caterina was leaning against the car with her arms crossed, having come to see us off. Her figure, glowing white in the mist, radiated an aura all on its own and made her look like the mistress of this place.
“Are you really leaving? You brought the King of Bordeaux to his knees, and now you’re running away to Napa yourself. Christian’s pride must be so wounded he won’t even be able to sleep.”
At her teasing words, I loaded the luggage into the car and answered expressionlessly.
“I’m not running away. I’m going back home. And Caterina, don’t misunderstand. I bought this place from your father, and I’ll do my best to develop it and make good wine here. But that doesn’t mean I can abandon all the other farms I own.”
Caterina’s eyebrows rose slightly.
“Hmph! Are you telling me not to get arrogant over one measly vineyard?”
Ah, this woman... She was quite sharp.
“Well... I wouldn’t say that’s exactly what I meant... At any rate, I do want to say that I’m very grateful for the Karloff family’s support.”
When I changed the subject, one corner of her mouth lifted.
“Remember this. We still hold a twenty percent stake. If you neglect this estate and fail to give it proper attention, I won’t sit quietly by. I hope you keep in mind that this is also tied to the honor of the Karloff family.”
The twenty percent stake I had left with them could be called a kind of safety device we both needed. The Karloff family gained eyes to watch over the place so that the land would not be ruined as it had been under Durand,
and so that no tricks would be played with the management figures, while I kept open a channel through which I could receive the Karloff family’s halo and support in case of emergency.
“I’ll remember. But you shouldn’t think my phone is reserved for you alone. We’re only business partners. Redwood is not Karloff’s winery.”
Caterina, wearing a cold smile, made an unreadable expression.
“...I’ll be watching.”
“See you next time.”
Leaving the young lady of the Karloff family behind, we climbed into the Rolls-Royce sedan they had prepared. Perhaps because they were a family that could be called newly risen nobility, I quite liked how freely they spent money.
“I don’t like her.”
Chloe, of course, was a little different. As the car started moving and Caterina receded into the distance, Chloe looked straight into my eyes and said,
“Don’t meet her often.”
“I won’t have reason to meet her often. Daniel is here, so I won’t be coming here that much either. I told him to keep sending photos, so I’ll probably come once after the replanting is done.”
“Come with me then too.”
“Let’s do that.”
“This time, because we were dealing with that old man who looked like Professor Goodnin, we couldn’t go to any decent restaurants. Next time, I really want to stop by one. I should prepare more outfits then, right? We came in too much of a hurry this time, so my clothes were too plain. For an old-fashioned stone mansion like that...”
Chloe kept chattering all the way to Charles de Gaulle Airport, but it didn’t bother me. During our entire stay at Château Belle Epoque, I had focused on winery work, and she had stepped aside so as not to get in the way.
Listening to Chloe babble made me feel as though I were resting comfortably.
A few hours later, I boarded the plane and sank deep into my first-class seat. The vibration of takeoff passed through my whole body, and the land of Bordeaux fell away beneath my feet.
About thirty minutes later, when a sea of clouds spread out beyond the window, Warren tilted his champagne glass and stared at me.
“Master.”
“Why are you suddenly calling me that?”
“Was there ever a time I didn’t?”
“.......”
“The other fellows were full of doubts about you, Master, but I had faith in you. And even when you knocked the price of Château Belle Epoque down to something absurd, I thought it wasn’t strange... but what happened in front of Christian Moueix was truly wondrous.”
“Thank you for the praise.”
“A hundred times wouldn’t be enough. Soon, stories about your Redwood will likely set the wine world buzzing.”
“Are you going to go around spreading rumors, sir?”
He chuckled, drank his champagne, and said,
“When you’re in my position, it’s hard to put that sort of thing in your mouth. Especially if Christian finds out that the Bordeaux incident spread from my lips, he’ll probably want to drag me to France and put me under the guillotine.”
“Hahaha! To that extent?”
“Of course. But Caterina is different. Because of this incident, Master, you’ll receive even more attention than when you released Astra Veil.”
“No way.”
“Wait and see, and you’ll understand what I mean. That little brat acted insolent before we left, but she’ll raise Redwood’s status tremendously.”
At that moment, Chloe, who had been admiring the clouds outside the window, cut in.
“Don’t try to plant a favorable image of her in Brian for no reason.”
“Hahaha! Understood. I’ll be careful. I won’t make the mistake of offending the lady of Redwood.”
I was startled, but Chloe seemed pleased; she smiled shyly and turned her gaze back out the window. Warren tossed the rest of his champagne into his mouth and gestured toward the stewardess as he spoke.
“With the release of Astra Veil, you rose to the very top tier of Napa Valley in one stroke, but acquiring Château Belle Epoque this time and preparing a white wine from a long-term perspective will also stir up a great deal of curiosity.
In that sense, how about thinking through a strategy for Belle Epoque from now on?”
“How?”
“First of all... Bordeaux’s classification system guarantees stable prices for producers, but at the same time, it’s a prison that constricts creativity.
So I don’t necessarily think it’s bad for you to go beyond the regulations of Bordeaux law. Depending on how you look at it, something revolutionary might come out of it.
The moment you compromise the taste to fit the regulations, it becomes nothing more than an ordinary Bordeaux white.”
As expected, even if no one else did, Warren understood my thoughts.
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking.”
“So what is it? That something beyond the regulations. You wouldn’t have suggested making a white without any thought, Master.”
If what I had explained to him before was the general future direction of Belle Epoque, then what Warren was asking now concerned the concrete details of the white wine.
“Sir, the limitation of Bordeaux white is that it’s obsessed only with freshness. But certain blocks of Belle Epoque are cool yet high in geothermal heat, like Napa’s Oak Knoll district.
Here, I’m going to draw out not only the sharp acidity of Sauvignon Blanc but also the heavy oiliness and long-aging potential of a Burgundy Montrachet.”
Montrachet is a white wine produced from a very small vineyard in the Côte de Beaune region of Burgundy, made from one hundred percent Chardonnay.
If ordinary white wine is “refreshing and light,” Montrachet boasts a buttery smoothness and weighty body, and is characterized by an oiliness that fills the mouth completely.
It is often said to possess every aroma a white wine can have, with layers of ripe fruit, nuts, toasted bread, butter, and mineral notes. Because its production volume is so small, a single bottle can cost anywhere from several million won to tens of millions of won at minimum.
The Montrachet made by Romanée-Conti is legendary to the point that its price is whatever the seller asks, and it is called the final boss of white wine.
“You’re saying you’ll create the structure of Montrachet from Bordeaux soil? That means going beyond the limits of the varietal.”
“That’s why I intend to break the regulations. I’ll introduce Napa Valley–style ultra-precise temperature-controlled oak fermentation to Sauvignon Blanc, and I’ll cultivate and add a specific yeast mutant strain that’s forbidden in Bordeaux.
I’ll chemically maximize the complex mineral and buttery flavors hidden behind the fruit aromas. The result won’t be Bordeaux white or Napa white... It will be a third kind of white that exists nowhere else in the world.”
Warren propped up his chin, looking intrigued.
“So instead of preserving the Bordeaux-ness defined by the Bordeaux classification, the AOC, you’ll mobilize every physical and chemical means available solely to reach the pinnacle of taste. Hmm... What about distribution?”
“That’s still...”
It was too distant a matter, so I hadn’t thought that far yet.
“Really? If wine made that way comes out with a ‘no classification’ label—Vin de France—the conservative Bordeaux distribution network probably won’t accept it.
Well, since you said you’d make them reject it anyway, I suppose we shouldn’t take that side into consideration at all... Then, since it’s come to this, how about making it the opposite: a wine that is more mysterious and more expensive precisely because it’s hard to obtain.
Completely bypass the traditional Bordeaux distribution route and plug it directly into the mailing lists of the super-rich around the world. What do you think?”
“Bypass, huh... That’s not bad.”
“What if you brand the ‘Belle Epoque’ brand itself like a Napa Valley cult wine? It’s produced in Bordeaux, but it would become the most expensive wine that laughs at Bordeaux’s rules.”
He wore a proud smile, as though Redwood were his own winery. I found myself impressed by his passion as well.
“Good. Let’s make it together.”
I was already looking forward immensely to the white wine I would make with Warren and Daniel.
“So what are you planning to do first once we get back?”
“We’ve withstood the cold damage well, so I need to tend things so that the grapes to be shipped this year come out well. I’m going to start by checking Lapis Lazuli’s Merlot.”
“A good idea, Master. If the quality of the Merlot improves, Astra Veil will be able to become even smoother.”
With our hearts swelling, we headed for Napa.
But I never made it to Lapis Lazuli.
Because a great star had fallen over Napa Valley.