Everyone has their own story, of course, but he hadn’t mentioned the farm in general. He had pointed to one specific wine—Harrington’s signature, the Harrington Noctis Ridge Pinot Noir—so I couldn’t help but be curious.
I didn’t know much, but Noctis meant “night” or “darkness” in Latin, so perhaps it was a wine meant to explore the depth of darkness within the delicacy of Pinot Noir...? Something like that, vaguely speaking. It was Harrington’s flagship and ace, a wine that brought in enormous profits with hundreds of thousands of cases produced every year.
“But what’s the story behind it...?”
Elias merely gave a faint laugh.
“What does the reason matter? In any case, wouldn’t it be good for Redwood if you won?”
“... Yes, it would be good if we won.”
It would be rude to keep pressing someone who clearly didn’t intend to answer, so I backed off. Then Christopher gave me a look.
After we finished the contract and came out, Christopher spoke before getting into the car.
“I was originally planning to part ways here, but something came up that I should tell you. Shall we go to the winery?”
When Dad agreed, Christopher said as if that worked out well.
“I’ll tell you separately at the winery.”
Curious about what it was, I got into the car with Dad and returned to the winery, then seated him on the office sofa. He seemed subtly expectant, so I disappointed him a little by serving tea instead of wine and asked,
“Is there a reason Elias has bad blood with Harrington?”
“Well, you see...”
After hesitating briefly and organizing his thoughts, he spoke cautiously.
“To be honest, this is the first time he’s ever shown that he has negative feelings toward Harrington. He never let it show to outsiders at all.”
“And yet you can guess the reason?”
“Of course. It’s a story from more than twenty years ago, but it’s fairly famous in the California wine industry. It’s about Elias’s son.”
Dad and I naturally leaned forward at the intriguing topic.
“Daniel Grendel, Elias Grendel’s son, graduated from UC Davis and joined Harrington Winery. He was ahead of me, and apparently he was quite famous at school. They say he had tremendous passion for wine...”
“And then?”
“Perhaps because he was young, Daniel Grendel was said to have had an extremely experimental nature. Even after joining Harrington Winery, he kept that inclination and began trying to make all kinds of wines. But originally, Harrington’s most famous wine wasn’t the Harrington Noctis Ridge Pinot Noir. It was the Harrington Estate Pinot Noir Reserve, the most traditional and textbook wine of the Sonoma Coast.”
As if he was thirsty, he took a sip of tea before continuing.
“Daniel, who was passionate and highly experimental, seems to have grown tired of the recipes he was given. Then, they say, he secretly attempted low-temperature wild yeast fermentation in a few barrels.”
A familiar story, the kind that could happen anywhere. Of course, it was also my own story, one I had experienced countless times in the research lab before my regression.
“Did something go wrong?”
“Yes. And something very big. They say two out of six fermentation tanks went bad, and nearly thirty percent of the entire vintage was damaged. For the winery, it was as good as a loss of several million dollars.”
“Oh no...!”
“Mark Harrington declared in front of reporters that an employee had contaminated the wine through an unnecessary experiment, and that Harrington Winery would never again rely on experimentation. Daniel was immediately fired and even ended up blacklisted in the industry. On top of that, Harrington tried to minimize their losses by reselling that year’s wine under the name Rescue Blend.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
It truly was unfortunate, so it was understandable that Elias would feel upset, and I understood why he couldn’t openly show his discontent outside.
“But if it had ended there, that would have been one thing...”
“Was there some sort of twist?”
“A few months later, Harrington Winery’s chief blender tasted one of the discarded barrels and noticed something strange. She realized the barrel hadn’t gone bad.”
“The structure was different, then?”
“Exactly. At the time, it was so unusual that they thought something had gone wrong with the wine.”
“Ah...”
“She discovered complex flavors from micro-oxidation—smoked tea, earth, balsamic, and so on—and bottled just a few from a small experimental batch to make wine. Astonishingly, that wine received the highest evaluation at an unofficial tasting the following year.”
“Don’t tell me that was...?”
“That’s right. That is the current flagship of Harrington, the Harrington Noctis Ridge Pinot Noir.”
At the astonishing story, Dad and I both stared with our mouths open. They had publicly singled out and driven out an employee for making a mistake, and yet the wine born from that employee’s mistake had ultimately become the winery’s flagship...
At this point, even if Elias couldn’t openly criticize Harrington Winery, it seemed only natural that he would feel deeply upset.
Dad asked then,
“But you know these circumstances very well. Harrington Winery must not have wanted such inside details to become public.”
“Ah, that. Lucy Allison, the chief blender who discovered the potential in Daniel’s imperfect barrel back then, left Harrington Winery about ten years ago and exposed what had happened. That’s why it became a fairly famous story.”
“Ah... It must have been extremely painful for Elias.”
“Yes. Especially because his son Daniel’s false accusation was only cleared ten years later, but at the time, no winery would hire him. He was ruined.”
“Oh no... Then now...?”
“They say he went to France to study, but I haven’t heard anything else. Honestly, Daniel’s experimental spirit and France, which values tradition, are polar opposites, so I suspect studying abroad was just a pretext and that he went there to recover physically and mentally. But there’s still no news of his whereabouts, so it’s simply unfortunate.”
After hearing it, I understood why Elias had singled out one wine and asked us to beat it.
Christopher fell into thought for a moment, then said,
“I couldn’t understand why he didn’t want to give you the grapes at first. Of course, I understood his intention to preserve the identity of a single vineyard, but I wondered whether that was really a reason not to give grapes to Redwood, the hottest winery in Napa right now... But if I think about his request at the end, I think I understand his intent. He must have tasted Sylphid and seen the potential. And with that potential, he likely wanted to use his own grapes to surpass the wine that had been created in an unjust way from something his son had tried to make but never completed.”
“So that’s why it had to be a single vineyard.”
“Yes. Because blending would obscure it. He’ll believe it only has meaning if you overcome it solely with Grendel Hill Vineyard.”
When I thought back to Elias, who had made the proposal lightly at first, there was a heavier story behind it than I’d expected.
As expected, Christopher asked with a worried look,
“Doesn’t this feel burdensome?”
“To me? Not at all... It sounds fun.”
“Fun?”
“Yes. People who don’t know anything won’t think anything of it, but for people who know the California wine world inside and out like you, Mr. Christopher, how interesting will it be just for me to make a single-vineyard Pinot Noir with Grendel Hill grapes? And since I’ve become the one at the center of it, it’s even more fun.”
Most people would feel burdened in a situation like this, but at the fact that I instead called it fun, he looked slightly dumbfounded.
“Well, if that’s the case... I’m relieved. You received the invitation from COPIA (The American Center for Wine, Food & the Arts), didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“And naturally, you’re not worried about that either...”
“Haha, that’s true.”
“Good. The exact program details should come out around the end of this month, so I’ll share them with you.”
“Thank you.”
“Not at all... It’s my job. How is your friend’s business doing? The one with the distilled spirit...”
I was slightly surprised when he suddenly brought up my friend.
“Do you mean Jacob? How did you know about that...?”
“I read magazines too, of course. Since I’m in wine distribution, I’m not exactly close to Blender, but it’s a magazine I have to read to understand the tastes and preferences of younger consumers.”
“Ah... It’s going well. Since Blender, he’s already produced an additional 3,000 cases.”
“Congratulations. If there’s ever anyone you’d like to introduce me to later, I’d be grateful if you did.”
“So that’s what this was about? All right. If something comes up, I’ll contact you.”
After delivering that surprising news, Christopher left the winery.
“They say this Harrington Noctis Ridge Pinot Noir is Harrington’s flagship. Can you beat it?”
“It won’t be easy. But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible... It’s expensive and recognized, sure, but it’s not a wine that costs over a thousand dollars a bottle, so I should give it a try.”
“I’m worried for no reason. I’m afraid you’ll push yourself too hard and end up on people’s lips. That’s how the world is. When things are going well, they look up to you and praise you, but the moment you make even a small mistake, they rush in as if they’ve been waiting.”
“I know. I’m not pushing myself. I’m just doing what I’ve always done.”
That was right. I was simply doing what I had always done. Memories from the lab, where I would eat, research, eat, and research. At the time, it had been truly exhausting and irritating, but now that I looked back, every bit of knowledge I gained then was precious.
“Yes, this is why a person’s everyday habits are important. If doing what you usually do without overdoing it leads to good results, then Dad has nothing to worry about.”
Dad wrapped an arm around my shoulder with a proud expression. Before my regression, why had I lived without knowing this feeling...?
Just then, I got a call from Chloe.
“Aren’t you neglecting us because you’ve been too busy lately?”
“You’re doing well. I trusted you, so that’s why.”
“Hmph... Come to Lodi and check how things are growing for me.”
“Got it. It’s late today, so I’ll go tomorrow and take a look.”
“Good.”
The next day, my old pickup truck left Napa in the morning and arrived in Lodi after nearly two hours.
This place, which had once been a tomato farm, was now covered with small saplings as far as the eye could see, forming a spectacular sight.
“Brian!”
A young woman came running from afar, shouting. It was Chloe. Grinning as if she were somehow delighted, she ran over with, of all things, a pear in her hand.
“Look at this. It’s a pear I bought at a Korean market in LA. I bought it to try, but it’s not as good as I expected.”
American-grown pears from California weren’t that tasty. It seemed she had gone to the market for research and bought it while she was there.
“You didn’t go there just to buy this, did you?”
“No, I originally went to buy Shingo pears, but they said it was too late in the season and they didn’t have any.”
“That makes sense. Pear shipments from Korea are usually from August to October. It’s hard to find Shingo pears this time of year.”
“But it’s not like you’ve never tried them. You went to buy them again? You’ve already bought and eaten them several times.”
“I went because they’re delicious. And by eating them continuously, I’m learning the fruit size, sugar content, and flesh condition. I need mine to reach at least that level too. Ah, and this...”
Chloe took a pair of gloves out of her pocket.
“Do you know Hestra? They’re luxury gloves from Sweden.”
“Ooh—”
I immediately took them and put them on. They fit snugly, and I liked them very much.
“Cool, right?”
“They’re nice.”
“I have good sense, after all. Let’s go.”
I followed her through the pear orchard. Since they were saplings, the view was wide open, making it feel like we were standing right in the middle of nature.
“And you know about that event this time, right? The thirtieth-anniversary re-tasting of the Judgment of Paris.”
“Yeah, it’s been really hot among the Napa kids lately.”
“I’m going. They sent me an invitation.”
“Really? That’s huge!”
“Do you want to come too?”
“Me too? Isn’t that only for people involved?”
“No... They said you can come if you’re with someone who was invited.”
At my words, Chloe suddenly wriggled bashfully, then kicked the dirt with her foot and said,
“Well, I mean... It’s not that hard...”
“Ah, but you’ll be really busy around the end of May. Did I say that for nothing?”
She shouted,
“No! It’s just one day... It’s one day. I can go.”
“... All right. If you come, I’ll buy you something good.”
“I wonder how good it’ll be... I’ll look forward to it.”
She turned her head and walked ahead.