Elias, whose expectations for Redwood were high but who did not know what Mark thought, inwardly found it interesting.
“Oh, really? Well, I suppose it wouldn’t make sense if you didn’t know Redwood, after they received two Double Golds at the same time. Especially if you’ve tasted Sylphid.”
“It must have been impressive.”
“It was. Originally, I wasn’t going to give them my grapes. They were going to blend them with my grapes, weren’t they? Hahaha. I couldn’t possibly allow something like that. But that young fellow, you see... Ah, do you know about that young Asian fellow too?”
“Of course. He’s a junior of my daughter’s.”
“I see. As expected of UC Davis, the finest of prestigious schools. In any case, that young fellow knew that my grapes were the best grapes in Russian Valley. He begged me to help him just once, saying he would make a single-vineyard wine, not a blend, so what could I do? I signed the contract.”
“... It is an excellent choice, but wouldn’t it have been better to be a little more cautious? No matter how promising a rising star they may be, wine is something where the vintage changes year by year...”
“Ah, if you’re worried about me, it’s fine. What does it matter if an old man who could die at any time makes a mistake and suffers a little loss? At this age, life tends to get boring, but that Asian boy is so full of spirit that he’s fun to watch. It was just like seeing my boy when he was young, you know? Hahaha!”
Mark’s expression hardened even further. He was not such a fool that he could not understand what Elias was talking about.
“I see. I look forward to it. Another Russian Valley single vineyard from Redwood... I wonder if they’ll be able to differentiate it from Sylphid?”
“Mmm~ It’ll be fine. Hart’s grapes and our grapes are different, so even if that Asian boy doesn’t show off his skill, a different wine will come out. That’s what I believe.”
“...... Then I’ll support you from afar.”
“Thank you. Mark, you certainly are courteous. Worthy of being the chairman of the Pinot Noir association that leads Sonoma.”
“You’re too kind. Well then...”
Watching Mark’s back as he turned and walked away, Elias’s gaze sank deeply. But from his expression alone, there was no way to tell what he was thinking.
At that moment, someone else approached his side and spoke to him.
“Why are you talking about me again?”
When he turned his head, the massive Pinot Noir grower Steven Hart had come over. He had cookie crumbs stuck in his shaggy red beard, but because he looked so fierce to begin with, he did not look childish at all.
“You’re as big as a mountain, yet you go around eavesdropping.”
When Elias scolded him, Steven scratched his head with an apologetic face.
“I wasn’t eavesdropping. I was just standing nearby, so I heard it. But did Redwood buy your grapes, sir?”
“Yes. Don’t worry. I handed them over on the condition that your single-vineyard Sylphid would continue.”
“I heard that just now. Thank you.”
“What are you thanking me for...”
“By the way, that dirty bastard... How could he ask you for grapes...? People who drink wine need to know just how dirty the bastards at Harrington Winery are.”
“Even I’m staying quiet, so why are you making such a fuss?”
“Because you’re staying quiet, sir, at least I have to make a fuss.”
Watching Steven Hart get angry on his behalf, Elias snorted.
“Hmph! If making a fuss could damage Harrington, why would I have stayed quiet? If you strike a rock with an egg, at least you can make it stink or dirty it. If I tried, I couldn’t even do that, so that’s why I’m staying quiet. Still, because I’m holding my place here, that bastard can’t go so far as to whitewash his past.”
“Ugh...”
“In the end, at this age, seeing that bastard Mark look troubled does make me feel good. Did you see his expression earlier?”
“I was behind him, so I didn’t. I kept my head turned because if our eyes met, he might realize I was watching.”
“You really don’t live up to your size.”
“... I’m sorry.”
“Let’s wait and see. How that bastard Mark acts.”
“Yes. I feel like I’ll be relieved if I see a crack appear on that dirty bastard’s face. But have you heard anything from Daniel?”
Elias, who had maintained a cold expression the whole time, somehow looked sad.
“That rotten brat still hasn’t contacted me even once...”
“He’ll be doing fine. He always had plenty of guts, didn’t he? That’s probably why Harrington did what they did.”
“Indeed. To think that the boy who caused so much trouble when he was young would grow up and cause trouble too...”
Before long, the two drank wine and focused on the afternoon session of the Annual Grower Meeting.
---
At that time, when the Annual Grower Meeting hosted by the Sonoma County Winegrowers was being held, another meeting was taking place in a convention hall near Yolon Park, in a different location. It was the meeting titled [Beyond the Judgment, Building Napa’s Next 30 Years], commemorating the re-tasting event hosted by the Napa Valley Grapegrowers (NVG).
NVG was an association to which nearly all the growers and winery owners of Napa Valley belonged. Originally, it was customary for them to hold one large-scale event in December, but this year’s event contained their concerns over how to continue the historic great victory they had achieved at the Judgment of Paris re-tasting event.
From the outside, it could be seen as American wine having triumphed over French wine, but from the perspective of the wine industry, it was essentially a victory for Napa Valley, so the faces of the winery owners gathered here were as bright as if it were their birthdays.
A large screen hung in the center of the hall, and above it, the banner reading “Beyond the Judgment, Building Napa’s Next 30 Years” in golden letters showed just how much this event made them look forward to the future.
Name tags printed with Napa Valley winery logos were placed on each chair, and the wineglasses set at each seat were already giving off a faint aroma.
“I heard UC Davis professors are coming today?”
“We’ll be hearing a lecture for the first time in a while.”
“How are prices these days?”
“Cabernet isn’t moving. Everyone’s only looking for Pinot Noir.”
“Still, I heard wines around fifty dollars that are hard to find on the market are gradually rising in price?”
“Come on, that’s just talk. They only look for them, and once the price actually rises, they don’t. Most of it is just curiosity.”
“I see...”
The one disappointing thing was that, even though they had won the 30th-anniversary Judgment of Paris re-tasting, there was no major shift in mass popularity. The reason was simple, in a way. The American wines that defeated French wines were essentially cult-level wines worth several thousand dollars, while what the public sought were premium wines ranging from a few dozen dollars to, at most, around a hundred dollars.
At that price range, Pinot Noir, influenced by the film Sideways, was bound to see far greater fluctuations.
At that moment, the host holding a microphone stepped up to the podium.
“Ladies and gentlemen, would you please take your seats? We will now begin the ‘Beyond the Judgment’ session.”
The lights slowly dimmed, and the screen turned on.
The first session was handled by Professor Richard Thomas of the UC Davis Department of Viticulture.
“Thirty years ago, the Judgment of Paris was a gift given to us by our climate. But now, the climate is no longer stable. Irregular heat waves, warmer winters, unexpected frosts. We can no longer expect grapevines to adapt. As we always have, we ourselves must change.”
He flipped through the slides and revealed new experimental data.
Graphs of temperature distribution in grape canopies, the rate of change in Brix according to photosynthetic efficiency, and average sunlight and humidity values by region appeared one by one on the screen.
“Shade Management, Partial Irrigation, and Canopy Layering...”
His presentation was scientific, and at the same time, practical.
Naturally, as I attended this event, I smiled as memories from before my regression came back to me. Every bit of this content was already in my head.
“From now on, irregular climate should not simply be concluded as disaster. It is a new condition given to us for grape cultivation, and interpreting and responding to it will be our task.”
As always, it was the sort of thing people tended to say, but I knew just how extreme climate change would become in the future. Those who focused on this special lecture and prepared would be the ones able to survive in Napa ten years later.
The sessions that followed were focused on practical work. Precision Irrigation, Soil Carbon Retention, Alternative Rootstock, and so on...
Cultivation managers from large wineries presented case studies, and UC Davis researchers shared data. By the time the sessions ended, people naturally rose from their seats and headed toward the rest area.
Outside, wine-tasting booths had been set up, and wines such as “Napa Heritage,” “Duckhorn,” “Beringer,” and “Robert Mondavi” were lined up side by side. In the distance, I noticed a small round table where the owners of major wineries in Oakville, which could be called the very heart of Napa Valley, had gathered.
The winery owners who occupied the To Kalon area of Oakville were practically the aristocracy of Napa Valley, and they had formed their own association, Oakville Winegrowers, and held separate gatherings. And there was a face I knew among them.
“Huh?”
Matthew, my senior from school, recognized me when our eyes met and grinned. Dad, seeing that beside me, asked.
“Someone you know?”
“He’s a senior from school.”
“Ah, he seems to have a good impression?”
“Eh, he’s a bit different from how he looks.”
“Really? Is there some racial discrimination?”
In America, if you think someone dislikes you, the first thing that comes to mind is racial discrimination. And it was not necessarily persecution complex, because before my regression, until Hallyu bombarded America—not just Asia—you could barely even bring up Korea at school.
There were kids who would bump into you just for passing by, and in worse cases, there were even kids who would beat you so badly you couldn’t attend school at all.
“It’s not to that extent. He just seems to have a lot of jealousy.”
“That makes sense. You are exceptionally outstanding, after all.”
“Exactly. I am too outstanding.”
While I was spending time bantering like that with Dad, I suddenly saw someone get up from that side and walk over. It was Matthew’s father, Joseph Haggins. He immediately offered Dad a handshake and said,
“Nice to meet you. I’m Joseph Haggins. I heard your son attends my son’s school.”
“I’m Woody Choi. I just heard as well, and it really makes me think UC Davis is a prestigious school. I’m proud to have sent my son to the same school where the son of such a major winery grower studies.”
“I’ve heard many rumors that your son’s skills are extraordinary.”
“Since it’s praise for my son, I can hardly deny it.”
“Hahaha! I’d be proud too, if I were you. I’ll invite you to our winery sometime, so please come and have a meal with us.”
“That sounds wonderful. It would be an honor anytime.”
After Joseph left like that, just as the break in the event was coming to an end, Joseph spoke to Mondavi, who was practically the central figure of this event. Since they were not far away and Joseph’s voice was loud, I could hear what he said vividly.
“Instead of doing this, why don’t we take this opportunity to reorganize Napa’s image around cult wines? Because the perception has formed that American wines are cheap, people hesitate when they see high prices like French wines.”
Mondavi, who was old enough that it would not be strange if he died at any moment, smiled faintly.
“You must remember that Napa Valley does not consist only of us.”
“I know. But if we strengthen Oakville’s premium image and raise its name value to stand against France, in the end, Napa Valley’s name value will rise as well.”
“Well...”
Mondavi, who seemed to be pondering, suddenly turned his gaze toward me.
“At times like this, the opinions of experienced old men are important, but the opinions of young people are important too. What do you think?”
“Me?”
When I pointed at myself with my index finger and asked, Mondavi nodded, and in an instant, many people’s gazes turned toward me.
‘That old coot...’
While inwardly cursing him, thinking he must still be dwelling on the fact that I had humiliated his granddaughter, I spoke calmly.
“I don’t think I represent Napa Valley, but personally, I don’t think wine’s value rises just because you brand it. If there is a wine consumers want to drink, they’ll pay a premium to buy it. I understand the intent behind what you’re saying, but in the end, I can’t help but think only the wineries centered around Oakville would benefit.”
Joseph’s face, though he had just come to greet us, hardened at once, but I did not care. It was not as if I would really go to his house and have a meal... If he was offended, what was he going to do about it?
“That’s what he says.”
That old coot shrugged as if deliberately trying to start a fight and smiled faintly, while Joseph and the other Oakville winery owners nodded with heavy expressions.
Since Mondavi had refused, it had become difficult for them to argue more strongly. Of course, among them, a few looked back at me with sharp gazes...
“I feel like I got marked for no reason, don’t you?”
When I asked with a hint of worry, Dad instead lightly tapped my shoulder and laughed.
“Over something like that...? Still, it would be nice if we had one cult-level wine too.”
“Look forward to it. I’ve got something in mind.”
Dad’s eyes widened.
“Reaally?”
“Why do you think I went as far as buying wine at auction before? I have to show them that To Kalon isn’t everything.”