May 2006. The early summer weather in Napa Valley was warm and sunny.
Christopher’s steps were as light as the weather as he visited COPIA (The American Center for Wine, Food & the Arts), but the moment he saw the enormous banner hanging over the main entrance, a shiver ran through him.
[Judgment of Paris 30th Anniversary Retasting 1976-2006]
There probably wasn’t a single person working in the California wine industry who wasn’t looking forward to this event. Christopher was no exception. He was half anticipation, half worry, wondering how the results would turn out this time.
Inside the convention hall, the preparatory meeting was in full swing. Wine critics, sommeliers, professors, and reporters had gathered, each holding a freshly printed “list of judges.”
The list, with French and American names placed side by side, heightened the tension.
“If the French judging panel has Michel Bettane and Jean-Pierre Rouen, then the American side has Christopher White and Kenneth Lee.”
“Rouen? Isn’t he the one who assisted with the judging at the original Judgment of Paris?”
“That’s right. He was in his thirties back then, but now he’s become a legend in France.”
Amid the murmurs spreading around him, Christopher organized his documents and let out a deep breath. The mere fact that he would be handling the tasting in that seat was a heavy burden.
Thirty years ago, a single judging had shifted the center of the world. Could it happen again this time?
“Mr. White.”
The one who called him from behind was the assistant to the president of the NVV. He handed Christopher the schedule for the day of the event and said,
“You said you distribute Sylphid from Redwood Winery, which will be participating in this ‘New Blood of Napa,’ correct?”
“That’s right. If there’s anything related to Redwood, please let me know, and I’ll pass it on.”
“Good. The event program begins at nine-thirty. There will be a panel talk with the theme ‘After Judgment: Where Does Napa Go Next?’ Then, starting at eleven, there will be a new-generation wine tasting session, with tastings of the 2004 and 2005 vintages and three-minute presentations from each producer. Redwood will be included there.”
“Oh, I see.”
With the 2004 vintage, they could put forward Echelon and Sylphid, both of which had won double gold, so he wondered if it might practically become Redwood’s one-man show. It was only a pity that, tasting aside, they had almost no inventory left to expect explosive sales from this event.
In any case, looking at the participating wineries, there weren’t any that stood out greatly.
Silver Oak Winery
Duckhorn Estate
Redwood Winery
He liked it even more that Redwood was listed last.
“Each winery will probably try to show off its strengths. Would you happen to know what Redwood’s strength is?”
“Not yet... I haven’t been able to confirm that much.”
“It can’t be helped. Also, the day before the retasting, there will be a seminar called Legacy & Innovation, co-hosted by Napa Valley Vintners and the Wine Institute, featuring barrel samples from young winemakers and demonstrations of new blending techniques.”
“Is that so?”
“By any chance...?”
Christopher waved his hand with a regretful expression.
“As far as I know, nearly all of the finished wine has already been used up, so it would be difficult to present barrel samples.”
“Oh... That certainly explains why Redwood Winery was able to win two double golds.”
“Indeed. And they probably won’t participate in the new blending technique demonstration either.”
As Christopher saw it, Brian wasn’t the type to constantly try to show off his abilities. If he had been, he would have stepped forward himself from the beginning instead of having his father do it.
In particular, when Christopher had asked how he had shaped the structure of Sylphid at Grendel Hill Farm, the way Brian had answered as though it was almost too precious to reveal had shocked him, even if he hadn’t shown it.
If Brian had that kind of personality, he certainly wouldn’t try to display his blending techniques in front of the public.
“That’s a shame. In any case, the atmosphere will change greatly depending on the results of the retasting, but please tell them to prepare well.”
“I understand. I’ll tell them.”
If California won this retasting, which was meant to reevaluate the same vintage wines used in the 1976 Judgment of Paris, it was clear that the momentum would make people pay even more attention to the “New Blood of Napa” event to be held afterward.
---
At that hour, in the laboratory of Redwood Winery, only the quiet whirring of the cooler filled the room. I sat with a pen in one hand and coffee in the other, staring at the computer monitor.
Two data sheets were displayed side by side on the screen.
[Heart Vineyard]
[Grendel Hill Vineyard]
Harvest was still far off, but I had to organize my thoughts before the harvest season arrived. If I set the wine’s direction before the grapes ripened, I could begin maturation quickly. If I only started wondering what kind of wine to make after receiving the grapes, I would end up wasting quite a lot of time.
Beside the laptop, several printed tables were scattered about, each row listing sunlight exposure, humidity, wind speed, the iron content ratio in the soil, and organic matter content. There was also a small Flavor Map chart on the desk.
It was a table I had made myself.
The horizontal axis was sunlight exposure, the vertical axis was acidity, and each point represented the coordinates of aromas that could be obtained from grapes. “Cherry” was marked in the center, “vanilla” at the lower right, and “spice” at the upper corner.
I was trying to pin down the flavor profile of the wine I wanted to make, and it was exactly the way I had done things at the research institute.
“Something different from Sylphid...”
For the other wines, I had only planned to recall my memories from before my regression and make something appropriate, but after accepting Mr. Elias’s request, I couldn’t do that. Should I say my competitive spirit had been stirred?
While I was absorbed in research like that, Dad’s voice came from outside.
“Brian! Your friends are here.”
When I raised my head and looked at the clock, three hours had already passed. I hurried out and found Chloe, Armando, and Jacob in the office.
“As expected, the winemaker participating in the thirtieth-anniversary retasting is always busy.”
Armando spoke as though he was teasing me, or perhaps not, and beside him, Chloe narrowed her eyes and glared at me.
“You invited all of us? Here I thought you’d only invited me...”
As I quietly turned my head away, Jacob protested on my behalf.
“Originally, he only invited you, but Armando got the retasting details from the association and called Brian right away. Heh heh heh... You should’ve seen how upset he was that we weren’t invited.”
Armando, who had his arms crossed and was nodding, instead raised his eyebrows at Chloe and said,
“Isn’t that obvious? I became friends with Brian before you did. Since when was she so close to Brian...”
“Ridiculous! What does the order matter?”
“It matters. And you may not know this, but Asians are sensitive about order and age. Right?”
He suddenly passed the baton to me.
“No, well... it depends on the situation...”
“See? He says I’m right!”
“How does that mean you’re right?”
At that moment, Dad stepped in and brought out the snacks he had prepared in the office beforehand.
“Don’t fight. Eat while you talk. Want some wine? You’re all over twenty-one now, so it’s fine, isn’t it?”
“I drove here, so I’m okay.”
“I’ll have some, please. It’s not that far.”
Only Armando accepted wine, while the rest of us had juice instead. In truth, Armando’s Aguna Creek Farm was more than thirty minutes away by car from here, but strictly speaking, this was practically the countryside, and almost no one in this neighborhood considered a few glasses of wine drunk driving.
It was a town where most of the people thought of wine as a beverage.
Of course, in Armando’s case, it wasn’t just that he drank wine like water; it was also because he never refused an opportunity to drink wine from our winery.
“What are you going to give me?”
“We have a few barrels of Echelon left.”
I was referring to the barrels we kept without selling in order to preserve the winery’s history.
“Ooh—this is why I want to come here often!”
“What about the vinegar? Isn’t it about time for release?”
Armando smiled contentedly.
“That’s right. Mr. John Anderson contacted me at just the right time. He said there are a ton of customers waiting. Apparently, three supermarket chains and two department store chains have offered to carry it. So I’m thinking of raising the price a little, and since there are some unused oak barrels at the winery, I’ll age part of the vinegar and release it as a premium line.”
“Oh—that’s a good idea.”
“My mom and stepfather were worried at first, but with the orders coming in now, they’ve relaxed.”
“How’s the vinegar?”
“That’s why I brought it.”
As if he had been waiting for the question, Armando took a small bottle of vinegar out of his bag and opened the cap. A tart yet deep grape aroma spread through the office. I took a teaspoon from the office, dipped it into the vinegar, and tasted a little.
“Mm, it’s good.”
“It’s good, right?”
“It has Merlot in it, so it’s very slightly different from the existing flavor, but that’s not a bad thing. It’s excellent. If you age it in oak barrels for about six more months from this state, it’ll become deeper.”
At my praise, Armando’s mouth spread into a huge grin.
“Great, great. Once the oak-aged vinegar is released, I’ll send it to you first.”
“Me too.”
“Send me some too.”
Not only Jacob, but even Chloe, who had been bickering with him just moments earlier, showed interest.
“Don’t worry. I’ll send you some. In return, promote it to the people around you.”
“Of course.”
Since all four of my friends were practically running their own businesses, promoting one another’s ventures was only natural.
Then Jacob also took a bottle out of the paper bag he had brought.
“Can you taste this for me?”
Armando immediately showed interest.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a high-end soju made with the premium soju recipe Brian gave me before.”
“It’s different from ‘The One,’ right?”
“That one feels like a refined vodka made up of almost pure alcohol, but this isn’t like that. This is soju with a strong grain aroma. You can tell from the aroma as soon as you drink it.”
“Let’s try it. Open it.”
When Jacob opened the bottle and poured the liquor into a glass, a rich grain aroma spread out.
“It feels different from sake too, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. But I wanted to know how it is.”
First, I lifted the glass and smelled it. Instead of the sharp alcohol scent that hit the nose like vodka, it was much softer, and in its place, the subtle fragrance of rice came through with a heavy presence. Then I slowly took a sip. The texture in my mouth was astonishingly smooth, and a faint sweetness lingered long in the finish.
“It’s good.”
“Really?”
“Hmm...”
But at my attitude, as though something was about to follow, Jacob grew tense. If he were a student learning at school, I would probably have stopped there, but this was a product meant to be sold to consumers, so I honestly told him what I found lacking.
“It’s good. Very good. But... it needs to be refined just a little more. Right now, the aromas overlap slightly, so instead of complexity, it feels layered on top of itself. Preserve the grain aroma, but reduce the middle-layer alcohol scent by about five percent.”
“Reduce the alcohol?”
“No, not the distillation temperature... Reduce the ‘lead time.’ Shorten the time from distillation to cooling by three minutes, and cool it immediately before the volatile aroma compounds fly off. If you do that, the aroma of the first sip will become much clearer. It’s already good, so people who enjoy soju won’t have any problem with it, but to someone drinking it for the first time, it could feel a little flat.”
Jacob nodded repeatedly.
“Okay, I can try that right away. I’ll do it that way.”
“Good. Have you decided on a name?”
“Not yet... You decide later. I feel like this should use a name you choose.”
“All right, I’m looking forward to it. But this isn’t familiar to Westerners, so you shouldn’t expect it to take off from the beginning like The One.”
“I know. Anyway, The One is already bringing in enough sales right now. It’s strange and nice to see the rice from my farm being made into something like this. These days, even my mom has a glass before she goes to bed.”
Armando cut in with a joke.
“She’s going to become an alcoholic in her old age. Stop her.”
“Should I?”
Seeing Jacob’s pleased expression, Armando shook his head and then looked at me as he asked,
“How do you think this retasting will turn out?”
“Who knows.”
I knew the result, but I didn’t say it.
“You’re participating the day after the main tasting ends, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then we’ll get to see both you and Elaina there.”
“Elaina?”
When I tilted my head, Armando looked at me as if to say I didn’t even know that.
“What, you didn’t even look at which wineries are participating that day?”
“Not really... But don’t tell me...?”
“Yeah. I checked, and Silver Oak Winery is included too. I guess I was the only one getting excited about it.”
Now that I thought about it, I vaguely remembered hearing that Silver Oak’s wine from last year had been good.
“I see.”
“You can’t just say ‘I see.’ I called and asked, you know? Apparently, Mr. Elowen isn’t representing Silver Oak.”
“Huh? Then?”
“It’s Elaina.”
She had been quietly attending school after the wildfire incident... but this time, even I couldn’t help being slightly surprised.