Two days after the 30th Anniversary Judgment of Paris Retasting and New Blood of Napa ended, a red-faced Christopher White came storming into the winery. In his hand was a folded newspaper, its headline printed in bold type.
[APEX CREATIVE Announces Global Wine Showdown Program]
“Did you see this?”
He practically slammed the newspaper onto the desk, the corners of his eyes blazing red.
“That Richard Spencer bastard... he left out Redwood. Only us!”
I slowly picked up the newspaper. The photograph showed the winery logos of France, Italy, and the United States lined up side by side. Silver Oak, Harrington, Duckhorn, Martinborough, Masso.
But Redwood’s name was nowhere to be found.
“He left us out in the open. He probably hated the idea of an Asian winery taking center stage.”
There was poison in his voice.
“You think I’m going to just sit still? I’m going to protest to headquarters. I’ll fly to New York and—”
“There’s no need.”
At my words, he stopped talking and looked at me.
“What did you say?”
“I said it’s fine. If anything, I think it worked out for the best.”
Bewilderment flashed across his face.
“Are you insane? This is a publicity opportunity! A chance to be broadcast worldwide! And you’re going to give that up?”
I scratched the bridge of my nose and said,
“I’m not a celebrity, and I have no intention of becoming one. And I don’t want to appear on TV to promote my wine.”
“No, but...”
He lost his words and stared at my face, then let out a hollow laugh.
“You’re impossible to understand. Kicking honor away with your own foot.”
“I’m saying I don’t want to earn the winery’s honor through a TV show. And to me, this year’s farming is far more important than appearing on something like that.”
“......”
I pointed to the stack of files beside the computer monitor.
“There’s a mountain of work to do right now. Chloe is looking after the new orchard in Lodi, and Armando is inspecting the vinegar aging line. Jacob says there aren’t enough hours in the day because he’s making a prototype for premium soju. I have to help all three of them.”
He let out a deep breath, then relaxed his shoulders.
“Well, if that’s how it is... You really aren’t like young people these days.”
Seeing how disappointed he looked, I smiled and replied,
“Richard Spencer is a businessman, so of course he makes shows. But I’m a farmer. Richard lives his way, and I live mine.”
A brief silence passed, and Christopher laughed emptily as he nodded.
“Fine. Even if you don’t go on a TV show, it’s not as if the wines Redwood releases won’t sell. I understand. I won’t contact that bastard either.”
He rose from his seat and said,
“Still, you really are a strange man.”
“That’s because I’m a farmer.”
“Don’t ever forget those words.”
After he left, I headed straight for Brentwood. The Brentwood cherry farm was in the middle of harvest season, and even from afar, the red fruit glittered in the sunlight. The roar of tractors, the clatter of baskets, and the sweet scent of ripe fruit filled the air.
“Brian!”
Frederick, his thick forearms stained red, approached while waving. Behind him, Chloe took off her hat and wiped away her sweat.
“We’ve been harvesting all day. I think we’ll pick sixty tons just today. I’m dying here!”
I smiled.
“That’s a good thing.”
There had been a time when Chloe had first looked around with fearful eyes, worried a bug might touch her hand. Now she flicked away a gnat stuck to her clothes with her finger. It was as if she had been reborn completely as a farmer’s kid.
“Let’s go inside. We were just about to head in anyway.”
Frederick put a hand on my shoulder as affectionately as if I were his son and led me along.
“This year’s yield is about eighty percent of last year’s. Probably because we did additional grafting to change varieties.”
“How’s the survival rate for the grafts you did last year?”
“Most of them are good. More than ninety percent are growing well.”
“That means the yield isn’t bad.”
“Right. More than anything, the sugar content and uniformity of the flesh are good. I think we’ll get a good price again this time... Honestly, even if I hadn’t received my share of the Cerasia sales proceeds from you, I probably wouldn’t have been in terrible shape. But now I’m already looking forward to next year’s Cerasia sales revenue.”
“Hahaha!”
I burst out laughing. The amount that went to Uncle Frederick this time as his share of the Cerasia sales proceeds was a whopping 430,000 dollars. He had earned profits he could never have dreamed of even by selling a hundred tons of cherries, so of course he was delighted.
“Oh, right. I heard. There’s a guy named Jacob among you and my daughter’s friends, isn’t there? You’re helping him with spirits? I heard business is going well thanks to that magazine feature.”
“Yes.”
“Then there too...?”
“It’s the opposite there. I teach him how to make spirits, and I take thirty percent of the profits.”
“Oh, so in the end, the structure is similar?”
“That’s right.”
“Hmm... As expected, secondary processing must be far more profitable than just running an orchard.”
The way he nodded made him look terribly envious. Then again, I could understand how he felt. No matter how hard one sold things like cherries, walnuts, olives, or tomatoes, it would be difficult to make huge profits. So it was only natural that he would become interested after hearing that Jacob, his daughter’s friend, had gone from farming rice to increasing sales through distilled liquor.
Frederick and I entered the office-slash-warehouse building on the farm and sat down, while Chloe washed the cherries in the office.
“In about two years, we’ll be able to harvest Royal Tioga. I’m already looking forward to it.”
“The profits should be good. If you produce Coral Champagne, Royal Tioga, and Sweetheart as well, your profits will be maximized.”
“Even this year, people at the market have been quietly looking for our farm’s cherries. Among the same Bing cherries, ours must have been the best. Would you believe it? William Hartford, the chairman of the Cherry Growers Cooperative, even asked me about the changed cherry farming method. I can’t tell you how satisfying that felt. Hahaha!”
As if ten years of pent-up frustration had finally gone down, he burst into hearty laughter. Then he patted my shoulder once again and said very seriously,
“I will never teach him. Never.”
“Yes... You’re doing well. So, about that, I’m thinking of trying things a little differently this time.”
“How?”
“First, we keep the Cerasia we’ve sold so far exactly as it is. And in addition, I’m thinking of releasing another version after aging it in oak barrels for at least four months.”
At the unexpected proposal, both Frederick and Chloe, who had just washed and brought over the cherries, were surprised.
“You’re saying you want to make Cerasia even more premium?”
“That’s right. Cerasia was already differentiated from the existing dessert wines that were simply sweet, but I want to add a slightly more complex aroma from there.”
At the phrase “more complex aroma than now,” anticipation already began to fill Frederick’s eyes.
“The volume is quite large. Will it be possible? Besides, if you reduce the amount you’ve been selling, your initial sales will drop.”
“That’s why I wanted to discuss it with you. I’d like to keep the hundred tons we previously supplied as is, and request an additional hundred tons for the more premium cherry wine. What do you think?”
Both of them were startled by my words.
“A hundred tons, plus another hundred tons?”
“Two hundred tons in total?”
I took out from my small bag a photograph of Laird Family Estate, where I had made Sylphid before. It was a photo of the destemming and aging process for the Pinot Noir received from Hart Farm. As one of the largest custom crush facilities in Napa Valley, the facility itself was not small.
“Originally, we made it at Redwood Winery, but this time I’m planning to use a custom crush. Cherry wine itself can’t command a huge price, so if we use custom crush, the costs are high and it becomes difficult to leave a profit. But if more than a hundred tons come in, we can make enough profit.”
“Then will the brand change too?”
“That’s right. We’ll keep the existing Cerasia as is and make a Reserve.”
Chloe’s eyes went round.
“Cerasia Reserve? That name’s pretty good.”
“It is a good name.”
“But isn’t aging for just over four months too short?”
“If it stays in oak barrels for more than half a year, the cherry aroma will get buried, so it won’t work.”
“Ah... So there’s that issue too. Then you’re going to preserve the cherry aroma while incorporating the complex aroma of the oak barrel... That definitely has its advantages. But all hundred tons as Reserve?”
“I’ll have to think about that. A significant portion of the demand for cherry wine comes from women, so if it’s too heavy, sales may drop.”
“That could happen.”
Just then, Chloe held out the cherries she had washed.
“Try them.”
“Sure.”
The freshly picked cherries had an incredibly deep and sweet aroma, and the moment the skins burst, the sweet-and-tart juice spread through my mouth. Cherries were the kind of thing that, once you started eating them, you couldn’t stop, so I polished off a basket in no time.
“They’re good.”
“Right? Everyone loves them.”
After spending the day eating cherries and talking in that warm atmosphere, I went to school the next day as usual. Perhaps because such a major event had just happened, the UC Davis wine department building felt like a festival from morning onward.
A large banner hung at the main gate of campus.
[Judgment of Paris 30th Anniversary, U.S. Triumph Again!]
Reporters and camera crews had gathered in front of the building entrance, and students cheered while taking photos with wine bottles.
“Thirty years later, we did it again!”
Professors and researchers hugged one another, and in one corner of the campus, students were opening wine on the spot and raising toasts.
As the United States defeated France again at the 30th Anniversary Judgment of Paris Retasting and the results spread through media all over the world, UC Davis had effectively emerged as the “alma mater of victory.”
Half of the judges that day had been professors from UC Davis, and most of the wines judged were from wineries that had worked closely with the Davis research institute. In other words, this victory was UC Davis’s victory.
“Did you see? The school’s name was stamped on the front page of the newspaper!”
“Davis is the capital of wine education now.”
“And among them, Brian Choi went to New Blood of Napa as Redwood’s representative.”
“I heard he got two Double Golds. That’s insane.”
The hallway was literally packed with people. Some handed out celebratory wine, while others sold stickers that read “Davis 1976-2006.” Students stuck those stickers on their laptops and wine sample bottles.
The faculty was frantic preparing commemorative seminars, and a placard hung on the wall of the department building.
[From Napa to the World / UC Davis Made It Possible.]
Amid that fervor, I headed to the lecture hall. Each time I walked down the corridor, I heard greetings of “Hey, Brian!” as if people were looking at a celebrity. Most of it was pure congratulations, but some of it also carried a hint of jealousy.
‘Brian Choi, the Man of Double Gold.’
That was today’s campus newspaper headline.
When I opened the lecture hall door, the students who had been noisily chatting all turned their heads at once. And in the middle of the front row sat Elaina Elowen, wearing silver-rimmed glasses.
Usually, even if our eyes met, she would immediately look away and wouldn’t even acknowledge me... but for some reason, today she looked me straight in the eye.
“Congratulations.”
She even offered the congratulatory words first.
“Thanks.”
“Two Double Golds... They’re treating you like a legend at school.”
It had happened some time ago, so hearing her bring it up now was almost bewildering.
“I got lucky.”
Just then, Department Chair Thomas, who had come in behind me, saw me and suddenly threw his arms around me.
“Hahaha! Congratulations! Truly, congratulations!”
“I should be the one congratulating you. Congratulations, Department Chair.”
“Thank you. I heard Redwood was selected as the best wine at New Blood of Napa. I looked for you then, but I couldn’t see you anywhere.”
“My turn was over, so I went home.”
“My goodness... You really don’t know how to enjoy an event. In any case, interest in next year’s Echelon and Sylphid is already rising sharply. For a winery, that’s an absolute blessing.”
All the students were listening closely to the conversation between the two of us. Unable to endure it, Elaina’s voice cut in.
“Department Chair, I was at New Blood of Napa too, you know?”
Turning his head, Department Chair Thomas looked at Elaina affectionately.
“Ohh—Elaina, congratulations. I still remember your solid and dignified presence at the event.”
“Thank you. And... I’ve been chosen to appear on the show this time. It’s a TV show where the wineries selected for New Blood of Napa compete against rising French wineries on skill.”
“Oh... really?”
Naturally, everyone’s gaze turned to me. Since Elaina’s Silver Oak Winery had been selected, their reaction was as if of course I would be going too.
“I haven’t been contacted.”
I answered honestly, and Department Chair Thomas looked flustered instead.
“Oh, is that so?”
“It’s fine. I think the others will do well.”
“I see. If I say something—”
“No. Cherry harvest has started now. Soon, two hundred tons will be coming in, so we have to prepare at the winery. Where would I go?”
At the statement that I would be making wine with two hundred tons of cherries, Elaina’s face stiffened again.
“R-right. You don’t only make grape wine.”
“Yes. And I have a lot to do, so even if they had invited me, I wouldn’t have been able to go. Anyway, Elaina, go and make sure you take first place.”
When I smiled and even gave Elaina a word of encouragement, she smiled awkwardly and forced out an answer.
“Uh... sure.”