At the request that Warren and I stay for dinner, we spent some time looking around Château Margaux. In one sense, it might have seemed inconvenient to be kept there for no reason, but the house of Château Margaux was practically a cultural heritage site in itself. And so Warren and I toured the château as if we were appreciating classical art.
Only around seven, when the sunset had faded and darkness was settling in thickly, did we enter the dining room of Château Margaux’s main building. The space, imbued with the classical elegance of the eighteenth century, looked like a splendid banquet hall.
“Wow... No wonder the word ‘aristocrat’ doesn’t feel out of place here.”
When I murmured in admiration, Warren nodded as well.
“Their long history has elevated their standing even further. It’s that kind of place.”
On the table, silverware engraved with Margaux’s emblematic crest had been neatly laid out, while the soft candlelight illuminated portraits of past owners hanging on the walls. Corinne Mentzelopoulos welcomed us not in the sharp suit she had worn during the day, but in a soft silk dress. Seated beside her was Philippe Bascaules, the Technical Director in charge of Château Margaux’s overall winemaking.
For the hands-on head of a First Growth château to join the owner’s private dinner— I took it to mean that Corinne had acknowledged me not merely as an investor or businessman, but as a technical partner capable of understanding and transforming their terroir.
“Did you enjoy the tour? I’m not sure there was much to see.”
“It felt like walking through an art museum.”
At my compliment, she laughed lightly.
“Even at my age, it still feels good to hear praise for this place.”
Corinne’s voice was much softer than it had been during the day. We began chatting over light appetizers. The conversation flowed naturally from technical topics like wine acidity and tannin structure to recent economic trends in Europe. But the real discussion began around the time Château Margaux 1996, served with the main course of lamb chop steak, was poured into our glasses.
“Brian, about the ‘Redwood-Margaux Society’ you proposed earlier. To be honest, my greatest concern is the backlash from the négociants.”
She opened the conversation while gently swirling her glass. The deep ruby hue of the 1996 Margaux shimmered in the candlelight.
“The négociants of Bordeaux treat wine as a product. But you defined it as an asset. Could you explain once more, in concrete terms, what practical benefits our members would gain?”
I set down my glass and looked straight into her eyes.
“Madame, people who buy First Growth château wines don’t buy them to drink right away. They’re buying time—ten years at the shortest, thirty years at the longest. But the problem is where and how that wine is stored during all those long years. No matter how fine a customer’s private cellar may be, the risks of power outages or poor management always exist.”
As if in agreement, both she and Philippe Bascaules, the Technical Director, nodded, and I continued my explanation.
“The system we’ll build is this. Even if a membership member purchases a ‘Heritage & Future Duo,’ the wine will not leave Bordeaux or Napa. Margaux’s old vintages will be stored in Margaux’s cellars, while the joint wine and Aether will be stored in the fourth underground level of the maturation cellar I’m building at Redwood, in the VVIP exclusive zone.”
At this, Philippe cut in, sounding intrigued.
“That sounds similar to an existing Reserve service.”
“It’s similar, but there is one decisive difference. A consulting service that notifies them of the optimal drinking window.”
“And what is that?”
“Our data analysis system will calculate the maturity of the given vintage and send members a personalized report along the lines of, ‘The date when your wine will bloom most beautifully is October 2018.’ What do you think?”
It is generally believed that the longer a good wine is kept, the better it becomes, but that is a prejudice born from misunderstanding. Wine is like a living organism, possessing a cycle of ascent, peak, and decline.
During its ascent, rough tannins and powerful fruit aromas dominate, but once it reaches its peak, the tannins become as soft as silk, and the fruit aromas, along with matured notes of leather, mushroom, earth, and the like, come into perfect balance. After that period passes, it enters decline; the acidity breaks down, the aromas fade, and it slowly turns into something like vinegar or plain water.
Most ordinary wineries will vaguely say, “It will peak in about ten to twenty years,” but depending on storage conditions such as temperature and vibration, that peak can arrive five years early or be delayed by ten years.
The idea I was proposing was a service exclusively for VIPs, eliminating the risk of opening a wine worth thousands of dollars too early and tasting only harsh astringency, or opening it too late and drinking a wine that had gone off, while allowing the buyer to know the proper timing clearly.
At my words, not only Philippe but also Corinne looked impressed.
“That is extremely interesting.”
“However, in order to provide such a service, the underground winery I’m building will have to be completed, so it will take some time.”
“It’s certainly a good service, but I think simply offering the finest wines of Redwood and Margaux already provides more than enough merit. All the more so if the Reserve service is added on top.”
She was saying there was no need to wait until the winery was completed.
“That’s true as well. Additionally, once we begin the Reserve service, members will be able to transfer ownership itself to another member without taking their wine out. The wine remains at Redwood and Château Margaux as it is; only the owner changes. Since there is no physical movement, the risk of deterioration is zero.”
“So you intend to incorporate the function of the existing ‘London wine cellars’ as well?”
“That’s right.”
Companies operating under a concept like wine banking did exist even now. Though all they did was rent out a temperature-controlled compartment in an underground storage facility for a fee. Even if the temperature subtly fluctuated during storage or the cork dried out, the warehouse owner bore no responsibility.
Once Redwood Winery was completed, I intended to make it possible to store and trade wine in a more proactive way, rather than in the passive form of existing wine banks.
Corinne nodded in satisfaction. Then she naturally shifted the topic to the joint wine.
“Then what should the ‘second Opus One’ we create together look like? Philippe has already been busy calculating the synergy that might occur when Napa Cabernet Sauvignon meets our Margaux yeast.”
As if he had been waiting, Philippe Bascaules adjusted his glasses and continued.
“Mr. Brian, if Redwood and we join forces, do you believe it will be possible to create a wine that maximizes Margaux’s elegant fragrance while not losing Napa’s powerful structure?”
“I believe it is possible. I can’t tell you everything right now, but the winery being excavated down to the fourth underground level will be equipped with cutting-edge functions. And apart from that, I believe Redwood’s grapes are, in and of themselves, the finest Cabernet Sauvignon in the world. Beyond that, what more is needed?”
Even other wineries would have no difficulty guessing what level Redwood’s grapes had reached. After all, the completion of wine begins and ends with the quality of the grapes. Various yeasts, aging, blending techniques, and the like are, in the end, nothing more than tricks compared to the importance of grape quality.
Corinne and Philippe, who knew that all too well, looked at each other and quietly exchanged glances.
“That’s enough.”
“Good. There is one more additional proposal I’d like to make.”
Corinne savored her wine and smiled.
“Tell me.”
“How would you feel about planting Margaux vines in Napa Valley?”
“Planting Margaux vines in Napa Valley?”
Corinne’s wineglass stopped in midair. Philippe Bascaules’s eyelids twitched ever so slightly. Their faces had stiffened because my proposal meant planting the genetic essence of Château Margaux, which they had been extremely reluctant to let leave the estate for centuries—in other words, the Margaux Clone—in Napa soil.
“Mr. Brian, that is the same as asking us to hand over our family bloodline. What meaning would Margaux saplings have outside Bordeaux’s terroir? They would simply turn into ordinary Cabernet Sauvignon.”
At Philippe’s sharp observation, I leisurely leaned back against my chair.
“In an ordinary environment, yes. But the specific plot that will be connected to my completed underground winery will be different. Madame, Director Philippe. Bordeaux’s climate is growing hotter and hotter. When Margaux’s delicacy begins to collapse under exposure to high temperatures, do you not need a place to test how those genes adapt and survive in a warmer climate?”
I paused for a moment and observed their reactions. Beyond their bewilderment, I could see practical calculations passing between them.
“Furthermore, Redwood and Margaux are coming together to create another wine. If only Redwood grapes go into it, don’t you think its significance would be slightly diminished?”
“...You intend to blend it with Margaux Cabernet Sauvignon?”
“That’s right. If we blend Napa’s powerful Cab Sauv with Margaux’s elegant Cab Sauv clone to create a Napa wine clothed in Bordeaux elegance, then a true joint wine between Redwood and Margaux will be born.”
“In that case... you will have to explain how the specific plot connected to Redwood’s underground winery will differ from other vineyards before I can understand.”
I smiled and began to explain.
“Napa Valley is blessed land, but it has one decisive difference from Margaux in Bordeaux. Temperature. The massive winery I plan to build four levels underground will have a geothermal loop installed. If that is extended to the root layer of the vineyard, even in the height of summer heat waves, at least the grapevine roots can maintain a temperature like a cool spring day in Bordeaux.”
“Ah...”
“If the geothermal loop cools the roots, the vine receives Napa’s intense sunlight through its leaves and photosynthesizes, while its roots are fooled into thinking they are in Bordeaux’s cool soil. I suspect this temperature imbalance between upper and lower parts may be the only key to creating a monster of a wine that possesses both Margaux’s delicacy and Napa’s power. What do you think?”
At the astonishing story, Corinne let out a disbelieving laugh.
“Haha, I’ve never even imagined winemaking like this, so I’m almost bewildered. But considering that I don’t think it’s impossible, it seems I’ve been thoroughly drawn in by your words. Still, even if you take the saplings, it will take quite a long time.”
She was pointing out that when importing saplings from overseas, a quarantine period was legally required. In such cases, they usually had to undergo pest and disease inspections in an isolated greenhouse for a year or two.
“In any case, it will take at least three or four years for the winery to be completed. If we consult with the authorities during that time and bring them in through proper procedures, there should be no problem.”
“Three or four years. It truly is a major undertaking.”
“I’ll do my best to shorten the timeline as much as possible.”
At last, Corinne set down her glass, a faint smile forming on her lips.
“Very well. But I have conditions. Margaux will have final blending authority over the wine made from the grapes of those saplings. And Margaux’s crest must be included on the label of that wine.”
“That is exactly what I was hoping for. That wine will become the pinnacle that breaks down the boundary between Bordeaux and Napa. In that sense, shall we also discuss the matter of profit distribution?”
This was the most important part of the conversation. I calmly placed my hands over my stomach and spoke.
“This wine cannot exist without the special facility that is Redwood’s underground winery. Therefore, fifteen to twenty percent must be deducted from revenue first as a Maintenance Fee for facility use and management. Profit distribution should be calculated after that.”
“...And the profit distribution ratio?”
“Redwood will bear more than ninety percent of the costs for terroir, sapling cultivation, winemaking facilities, maturation management, and marketing. Château Margaux is providing intangible value in the form of brand licensing and final blending supervision, so I believe seven to three is appropriate.”
“Ha, isn’t that too much? Surely you know that Opus One split profits fifty-fifty between Mondavi and Rothschild?”
“That was because both sides invested capital equally. I don’t think thirty percent is a small share.”
After thinking silently for a while, she acknowledged that they would, in effect, be shouldering almost no risk, and only then did she smile.
“Very well. Let us create an unprecedented ‘hybrid,’ imbued with Margaux’s elegance and Redwood’s power.”
We clinked our glasses once more. It was a historic moment in which the bloodline of a First Growth château joined with Napa’s technology.