From the beginning, I had been working to draw out as much flavor as possible, with the idea of commercializing the Cabernet Sauvignon within a year. But now that an alumni wine showcase had been arranged, I wanted to shorten that timeframe a little more.
As soon as I sat down in the office, I called Pierce Morgan at the Agricultural Extension Office.
“Hello. This is Brian. Have you been well?”
“You’re calling me out of the blue. What’s going on? Do you need a favor, by any chance?”
“Huh? How did you know?”
“I’m saying that because you called suddenly instead of coming to the office from school. If it hadn’t been urgent, you would’ve come by when you went to campus.”
“Haha, you’re right. Still, our new vinegar should be coming out soon, so I’ll bring a bottle when I visit.”
“Oh, in that case, I suppose I’ll have to put in some effort. What do you need?”
I smiled at his gentle voice.
“Are there any wineries in Sonoma that sell Merlot and Petit Verdot?”
“Merlot and Petit Verdot? There are places that sell them. I assume you’re not looking to buy by the bottle?”
“I’m looking to buy by the barrel.”
“By the barrel? Don’t tell me you’re planning to blend. You know how to blend, too?”
“Haha... I’m interested in it.”
On the other end of the receiver, there was silence for a while, as if he couldn’t believe it.
“...Remarkable. There are a few places, so I’ll check and get back to you.”
“Thank you.”
Ten minutes after hanging up, I got a call from Pierce Morgan. Among the options, I called Glencrest Winery.
“Hello. This is Redwood Winery in Napa Valley. Would you happen to be able to sell a small quantity of Merlot and Petit Verdot by the barrel?”
A brief silence passed, then a low reply followed, mixed with laughter.
“I heard you were a student. Mr. Morgan recommended you, didn’t he?”
“Yes, that’s right. I only need a small quantity. Would that be possible?”
“If it’s a small quantity, it shouldn’t be much of a problem. Come in person, have a tasting as well. We’ll talk on the spot.”
Having unexpectedly obtained an easy opportunity to secure the ingredients I wanted, the next morning, I headed to Sonoma with Dad.
Once we left the hills of Napa and drove west along Highway 12, the scenery changed. Long rows of grapevines stretched across every hill in orderly lines, and though the early spring air was still cool, the sunlight spread warmly over everything.
The particular tranquility of Sonoma Valley flowed in through the car window.
“This place is wonderful, too. But you’ve already done so many things to bring the product’s marketability forward, haven’t you? Lot separation, fermentation, extraction... then oak aging after malolactic fermentation, MLF... Even after doing all that, is there a reason you still need additional blending?”
Every process Dad had mentioned was something I had done while reflecting as much of my knowledge from before my regression as possible. Even so, the reason it wasn’t perfect was that, fundamentally, the facilities equipped at the winery weren’t as modernized as they had been before my regression.
Of course, that had changed somewhat now that we had newly customized various sensors and devices, but in any case, what compensated for those shortcomings and raised the quality was blending.
“Ah, that’s because wine, when aged for a long time, naturally softens the rough tannins it has at the beginning. You can think of blending at this stage as pre-assembling that softness and balance.”
“Ah...”
“And even if you make it with a single variety, the taste differs slightly from barrel to barrel. When it goes out, you choose only the good barrels to bottle, or something like that, so it’s effectively internal blending. There’s no such thing as completely unblended wine.”
“That’s true. Come to think of it, it’s fascinating. That wine tastes different from barrel to barrel.”
“That’s why fermentation stainless tanks aren’t done as one huge tank, but divided into several, like five thousand liters, ten thousand liters, and so on. The grapes differ slightly depending on their condition, and if a problem occurs in one place, the risk is spread out...”
“There’s a reason for everything.”
As we talked about this and that, we drove for over an hour and arrived at the end of the road, where a stone sign engraved with “Glencrest Winery” came into view. A building combining a red roof and a stone house was the winery’s main building. Old olive trees stood around it, and beside the warehouse, new oak barrels were neatly stacked.
When I got out of the car and approached the winery, air mixed with the faint scent of oak and fermentation brushed the tip of my nose.
“Welcome. I’m Andrew Milton.”
A winemaker wearing a dark gray sweater greeted us.
“I’m Brian, whom you spoke with on the phone, and this is my father, Woody Choi.”
“I’ve been waiting for you. Please come inside.”
After exchanging brief greetings, he led us straight to the barrel room.
The inside of the barrel room was cold and dark. The French oak barrels lined up in rows created a steady pattern that was pleasing to the eye.
Andrew picked up a wine thief and inserted it into the first barrel.
“This is this year’s Merlot.”
He poured a purplish liquid into a small tasting glass. The ruby color gleamed, and the wine swirled smoothly along the edge of the glass.
I carefully took a sip. The aromas of soft red cherry, plum, and raspberry lingered.
“It’s good.”
At my admiration, Andrew Milton asked,
“One barrel is actually a somewhat awkward quantity. May I ask the reason?”
It was an enormous amount for an individual to purchase, yet quite a small amount for a winery to buy. So it seemed his curiosity had been piqued.
“As you might expect, I’m considering blending, but nothing has been finalized yet.”
His eyes sparkled as if he was surprised.
“Ah... Are you trying to work it out now?”
“Haha, I’m not saying I’m going to work it out from a complete zero base with nothing at all. I have the framework to some extent, but I think I need to nail down the details before I can sign a large-scale contract.”
At the words “large-scale contract,” Andrew’s face brightened.
“I hope you get good results.”
Merlot is one of the most widely cultivated red grape varieties in the world, and with its soft tannins and rich fruit aromas, it belongs among wines that are easy to drink. Unfortunately, when the film Sideways became a hit, it received none of the benefits at all.
In fact, it could be said that almost no variety other than Pinot Noir benefited, but Merlot didn’t merely fail to benefit—it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say it was outright harmed.
The reason was that the protagonist in the film openly denounced Merlot to the point of saying, “I am not drinking any fucking Merlot!” So how must the wineries that cultivated Merlot and made wine from it have felt?
Since I had hinted that I might make a large purchase, it was only natural that he would be delighted.
“I’ll taste the Petit Verdot as well.”
He inserted the wine thief into another barrel and pulled it out. The color in the glass was much darker. The scents of violet, blackcurrant, and black pepper left a strong impression at the tip of my nose.
“This is good, too.”
“You’re thinking of blending it with Cabernet Sauvignon, aren’t you?”
Petit Verdot could be called a supporting wine, almost entirely used in the finest Cabernet Sauvignon blends, but because of its rarity and the intensity of its quality, its price was far higher than Merlot’s.
“That’s right.”
I smiled. Perhaps because it was a winery introduced by Mr. Pierce Morgan, everything was in excellent condition.
We sat down at a small table, and I brought my pen to the invoice form Andrew had taken out.
“Now, please write down the quantities you need.”
“I’ll take one barrel of Merlot, 225 liters. And half a barrel of Petit Verdot, about 112 liters.”
Andrew calculated the amount and wrote it down.
Merlot 1 Barrel: $1,000
Petit Verdot 0.5 Barrel: $1,200
Total: $2,200
He pushed the invoice toward me and said,
“When would you like to pick it up?”
“I’ll take it tomorrow morning. I’ll prepare a truck and come.”
I took out the checkbook I had prepared. The logo printed with Redwood Winery was clear. I wrote a check for the total amount of $2,200, signed it, tore it off, and handed it over.
Andrew checked it, then smiled.
“Good. Then I’ll have it ready tomorrow. You move quickly for a student.”
Dad muttered beside me.
“You shouldn’t think of him as a student. If anything, he’s an industry man.”
I chuckled and drained the last of the Merlot left in my glass. By tomorrow, these wines would enter our barrel room and give a small pair of wings to the Cabernet Sauvignon.
Once we got back into the car, Dad asked,
“After watching you handle even the payment, you really looked like the president of a winery.”
I reclined the seat and replied,
“I am the president. It’s just that no one knows it yet.”
“Hahaha! That’s true.”
After leaving Glencrest Winery, we stopped by one more winery on the way back and contracted for half a barrel of Malbec as well.
The next day, Dad transported the contracted Merlot, Petit Verdot, and Malbec very carefully in a refrigerated truck. Transporting barrels in a pickup truck could cause problems such as wine damage from rising temperatures, bung displacement, and quality deterioration from vibration, so we had to rent a refrigerated truck.
After carefully moving the barrels we had brought into the barrel room, I sat alone in a chair and quietly stared at the glass beakers, graduated cylinders, and pipettes on the stainless-steel tray.
Looking at them brought back memories from my Cornell days, when I had spent nights in a corner of the laboratory measuring and recording wine.
“I didn’t even like wine back then...”
Muttering with a bitter smile, I recalled the research project I had worked on at the time. This project, titled Cabernet Sauvignon Blending Synergy: Minor Varietals Impact Study, analyzed how the structure, aroma, and balance in the mouth changed when small amounts of other varieties were blended into Cabernet Sauvignon.
Back then, I had tried hundreds of combinations, and the record sheets had always been filled with numbers and notes.
In that process, there was something I had discovered. If Merlot at 7%, Petit Verdot at 3%, and additionally Malbec at 2% were blended into Cabernet Sauvignon, the result was an unbelievably smooth and stable wine.
I opened my eyes and picked up the pipette.
“Now then, let’s make it again.”
First, I filled the graduated cylinder with 88 mL of the base Cabernet Sauvignon. The deep purplish liquid flowed down the glass wall and rippled gently. Next, I measured out 7 mL of Merlot, 3 mL of Petit Verdot, and 2 mL of Malbec, transferring each into the same cylinder. As the three wines mixed, the color deepened another shade.
I poured it into a beaker, stirred it gently, then poured it into a clear tasting glass. When I lifted the glass and held it to the light, the intense ruby hue of the Cabernet remained alive, yet there was a somehow denser impression to it.
When I brought my nose close, the aroma rose sharply. The concentration of blackcurrant and cherry came up richly, while nuances of dried plum and chocolate, seemingly given by the Merlot, softly enveloped the middle.
“...... Yes, this is it.”
I took a small sip.
The moment it entered my mouth, the softness of the Merlot covered the heavy tannins unique to Cabernet. The Petit Verdot neatly organized that taste, refining the wine so it wasn’t sharp, and at the end, the Malbec left a soft lingering finish, making even the aftertaste smooth and comfortable.
“This takes me back.”
The ratio I had finally discovered amid the exhaustion of conducting several research projects at the same time before my regression, and the thrill I had felt while tasting it, came back to me once more.
I prepared to bottle it exactly at the completed ratio. From among the barrels carefully stored in the barrel room, I chose the finest one... checking them one by one, like a hand selecting the healthiest grapevine in a vineyard, and made three 750 mL bottles.
When I came out of the barrel room carrying three bottles with no labels, Armando, who happened to be studying in the office, asked,
“Huh? Is that... the booze we’re drinking tonight?”
At his question, his face lighting up, I shook my head.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk... No. This is what I’m submitting to the alumni wine showcase tomorrow.”
“What? Really? Can’t I just have one sip? Please...”
“...I’ll give you some after I get back.”
“Really? You have to promise.”
“I promise. Really.”
“Augh... I’m curious! I’m so curious!”
I barely managed to soothe Armando, who coveted the wine like a puppy about to pounce on its food, and took the bottles home with me.
Thinking about taking this to campus tomorrow made me feel slightly excited. I wondered how a wine born in a Cornell University laboratory would be received by UC Davis alumni.