Everyone’s gaze was fixed on a single spot. The wine bottle in Dad’s hand. Light slid across the black glass, spreading over it and illuminating the label. Against the black background, the gold lettering and the pyramid symbol signifying the summit stood out clearly.
Echelon
Dad set the bottle beside him where it could be seen, then picked up the decanter containing the wine I had brought and poured it into the attendees’ glasses. As the wine flowed down into the bowls, its deep ruby color rippled like waves. In that moment, no one opened their mouth. They were simply waiting to discover the true identity of that liquid as soon as possible.
“Please start with the aroma.”
The glasses tilted slowly at people’s fingertips, and the sommeliers, restaurant owners, wine bar representatives... their noses sank into the glasses all at once. A dense scent of blackcurrant and ripe plum brushed past, followed by the subtle char of oak.
Breaths escaped like sighs, or perhaps like admiration.
“Mm...”
“Ha, that’s good.”
The attendees met one another’s eyes. Even without words, it was clear. Their expressions said it was unfamiliar, but unmistakably beyond expectations.
When the first sip wet their lips, their expressions shifted even more dramatically. A texture that slid smoothly across the palate, tannins laid upon the tip of the tongue without roughness, and a lingering acidity that quietly straightened the wine’s backbone.
The more one knew that it had been aged only briefly, the more astonishing the taste had to be.
“This is... barely over a year old?”
The restaurant owner, Theodore, looked down at his glass with startled eyes, and I answered briefly.
“Yes, to be precise, it’s been eleven months. We awakened its flavor early, but even so, you should have no trouble sensing the weighty presence of the Cabernet Sauvignon.”
Beside him, Joshua swirled his glass once and shook his head in admiration.
“I’d believe it if you told me this had been aged at least three years. Unbelievable.”
Exclamations spread among the others as well. Someone mentioned the tannins, someone asked about the blending ratio, and someone else compared it to Seracia. The wine filling each glass created conversation like ripples spreading across water.
“I’m not sure how you found it. For us, simply having this opportunity to introduce Redwood’s blend is already more than satisfying. Especially since we invited such esteemed guests, and it doesn’t seem anyone has been disappointed.”
At those words, the people gathered at the tasting nodded. No one objected. Instead, everyone’s eyes converged on one thought. They had to secure this wine.
“When is the release?”
“How much stock is there?”
“What are the contract terms...?”
“Could we perhaps take a few bottles with us now?”
Questions poured out in a rush. Some pulled out notepads, some tapped on calculators... wary glances flew back and forth as they kept one another in check.
“The release is tomorrow. This batch is larger than Seracia, so you don’t need to worry too much. There are a little over two thousand cases.”
But even at the words “two thousand cases,” the look in people’s eyes did not show much relief. Because the limited amount of wine being released, combined with its high quality, allowed them to infer that the wine’s price could rise just as much.
“And the price?”
Someone asked the most important question, and after taking a breath, Dad answered calmly.
“The wholesale supply price will likely be thirty-seven dollars per bottle.”
At those words, the attendees looked surprised, but soon nodded in acceptance. Compared to some of the wines representing Napa Valley or France’s Burgundy DRC, it was true that it fell short. But the fact that the first red wine produced by this small winery was being compared to such wines at all was, in truth, absurd.
Someone shook their head and murmured.
“So you’re saying you intend to sell it all without leaving any behind.”
Those words pierced straight to the meaning behind the thirty-seven-dollar supply price. Dad smiled faintly and continued.
“This time, it will be distributed through a wholesaler rather than direct delivery. Mr. John Anderson here will deliver it directly to your establishments.”
At those words, John, who had been sitting in a corner, awkwardly stood up, took off his hat, greeted everyone, and stepped forward.
John Anderson, who had attended today’s tasting, was having an unusual experience in many ways. To be honest, he had let out a snort of disbelief from the moment the winery first told him to come to a tasting. After all, it seemed ridiculous for a mere fifteen-acre winery to hold a tasting for a wine release.
But once he came and waited, what did he see but a steady stream of owners from famous restaurants and wine bars arriving? Among them were establishments with such name value in the area that reservations were difficult to get.
From that moment on, John Anderson had to acknowledge that this Asian family was not only good at making vinegar. The cherry wine had not simply been luck, either...
He was slightly dissatisfied that a wine with a wholesale price of thirty dollars had been introduced with a retail price of thirty-seven dollars, but even so, it was clear that this distribution would leave him with nearly twenty thousand dollars in profit.
They had said they would let him sell it at a higher price the following year, so from his perspective, he had to be satisfied with this much.
“For customers who place preorders today, we will offer a discount of ten dollars per case. Of course, for those who wish, we can load the wine into the vehicle you came in.”
The moment his words ended, hands went up from here and there, placing orders. Among them, Chef Daniel Roca, with whom I had formed a connection at the Winkler dinner, waved at me and met my eyes.
When I approached, he smiled and said,
“Thank you so much for inviting me to today’s tasting. If I’d known it would be like this, we would have stocked your cherry wine last year too.”
“It’s all right. We’re happy enough that you liked what you tasted today.”
“There’s something I’m curious about. Why did you only invite actual business owners, like restaurants and wine bars? If you’d invited critics or journalists from the press, the impact would have been even greater.”
“Because then it would become hard for us to handle. The cherry wine sold out in less than a month too, and if articles were published on top of that, inquiries would keep coming into the winery, which would make things difficult.”
At my explanation, Daniel looked dumbfounded.
“Ha... Amazing. Well, a wine that catches word of mouth gets consumed steadily in tremendous quantities, so I suppose there’s no need to go out of your way to invite critics. And by the way, when Echelon meets what kind of food, and in what state, do you think it reaches the perfect pairing point?”
“Echelon is at its best not immediately after coming out of the bottle, but after about an hour of decanting, when the tannins have loosened a little. At that moment, the strength of the blackcurrant remains fully alive, while the acidity cleans up the richness of the food. It pairs especially well with dishes where fat and aroma linger in the mouth for a long time, such as steak imbued with charcoal aroma or lamb roasted with rosemary.”
The deep, intense dark red fruit aroma found in a well-ripened Cabernet is called blackcurrant, and in wine tasting, when that aroma does not die or fade but maintains a strong presence for a long time, it is described as its strength remaining fully alive.
Rather than being someone who loved wine itself, I was a scholar and researcher, so I originally did not particularly like such metaphorical expressions. But that did not mean I disregarded the expressions used by those who enjoyed wine. So I described it in a way the chef could understand most intuitively.
“Ooh, then this one too?”
“Yes, we decanted it in advance before you arrived.”
“I see. By the way, when will you hold a tasting for that famous cherry wine?”
“Haha, we judged that you already know Seracia to some extent, so we have no plans to hold a tasting for this year’s vintage. It will be released between late November and early December. And the Pinot Noir to be released a month later will not have a tasting either.”
“You have Pinot Noir too? Why won’t there be a tasting for that?”
“We held a tasting last year with a Pinot Noir that hadn’t been fully awakened. It felt like we were making too much of a fuss, so we decided to just release it. But that doesn’t mean we lack confidence in its quality, so I hope you won’t misunderstand.”
It was true that we weren’t doing it partly because we were worried people would think we were making too much of a fuss, but in any case, Pinot Noir prices were still continuing to rise. To what extent? The farm we had contracted with by block had even hinted that other wineries were offering higher prices.
Currently, throughout the Sonoma area, the atmosphere between farms that had grown Pinot Noir and those that had not was starkly divided, and rumors were spreading everywhere that people were wondering whether they should switch varieties. In such a situation, there was also concern that gathering people by holding a Pinot Noir tasting would earn us unfavorable looks from nearby farms.
Moreover, in any case, as long as a winery’s flagship line came out well, wine enthusiasts tended to try all the wines from that winery, so if the results of today’s tasting were good, there was no real need to go as far as the Pinot Noir.
“Of course not. I’m only disappointed, that’s all. Then please be sure to let me know when the Pinot Noir is released. I’ll be the first to order it.”
“Yes, I’ll do that.”
And so, the tasting came to a successful close.
---
A luxury sedan glided into the Harrington family estate on the hill above Healdsburg.
The person who got out of the car was André Leclerc, the owner-chef of the San Francisco Michelin restaurant Le Jardin. In his hand, he carefully held a bottle of wine. It was Echelon, which he had secured that very afternoon at the tasting held at Redwood Winery.
Entering with anticipation for what reaction he would see, he found Mark Harrington, who had been sitting in the center of the living room, rising to his feet.
“You brought it.”
“Fortunately, it had already been bottled, labeled, and prepared for release, so bringing one today wasn’t very difficult.”
Mark’s hands moved more hastily than expected. He took the bottle the chef offered and read the label.
“Echelon? Let’s see if it truly stands at the summit, as its name suggests.”
A faint smile spread across his lips. It was only natural that he had not been invited to today’s tasting, given that they had no business relationship whatsoever, but for Mark, it had been difficult to suppress his curiosity. He wanted to know just what level of quality the real red wine that Redwood Winery had properly prepared would show.
Mark immediately picked up a corkscrew. With a short, clear pop, the cork came out. In that instant, an aroma briefly scattered through the air. He steadied his breath and said,
“The decanter.”
Sienna, who had been nervous alongside him ever since Dad started waiting anxiously, quickly moved and brought a crystal decanter. Mark tilted the bottle and carefully poured out the ruby liquid. The wine caught the light and slowly flowed down along the glass wall.
Leclerc smiled as he watched.
“It will truly wake up after about thirty minutes.”
Briefly setting aside his impatience, Mark cast a glance toward Leclerc.
“How was today’s tasting?”
“A lot of people came. The influence of the previous Seracia was certainly significant. Everyone thinks Seracia isn’t Redwood’s main wine, you see. They all wanted to see the real thing.”
“Hm. I suppose they would.”
“The response was...”
Leclerc briefly gauged Mark’s expression, then spoke with difficulty, wearing an awkward smile.
“Extremely good. Some even said it must have been made with grapes grown in To-Kalon.”
“To that extent?”
Mark, who had already experienced it once at the alumni wine showcase, furrowed his brow and looked at the purple liquid in the decanter.
“It has also increased expectations that they might show an even more refined balance from here on, even though this is only their first vintage.”
“Is that possible?”
“Who knows. From the name alone, they clearly aren’t presenting it as an ordinary Cabernet Sauvignon. At the very least, it did seem to have a clear direction.”
Now that things had come to this, Mark grew even more curious about what form the still-slumbering Pinot Noir might have taken by now.
“By the way, how has the wine market been lately?”
“Haha, it’s full of stories you’d like, Mr. Mark. Because of Sideways, customers are asking only for Pinot Noir. Our restaurant will probably have to place an additional order soon as well.”
“That is truly good news.”
As though they had never been talking about Echelon, the two of them conversed warmly about other matters. Only Sienna bit her lip and stared at the transparent decanter.
Then, before long, about thirty minutes passed.
“Dad, it’s time.”
At those words, Mark slowly tilted the mouth of the decanter over his own glass and filled it. After lifting the glass and experiencing its aroma and taste, Mark quietly set it down. His eyes were trembling. It was an expression rarely seen on his proud face. Then, after savoring the lingering finish in his mouth for a long while, he opened his mouth.
“It’s real.”
Leclerc, who already understood the shock he must be feeling, smiled quietly.
“That’s right. It is a real wine.”
“Can it develop one step further from here?”
“It might. If it does...”
“Another monster winery will have appeared in Napa.”
With trembling eyes, he looked at the golden symbol and the word Echelon affixed to the black glass bottle.