The Shaking of America (4)
The Cabernet Sauvignon harvested from Ironwood Cellars, which I had acquired last year, was in quite good condition. Of course, it fell short of the wine made from Redwood’s harvest, but considering it was the first year of cultivation with every ounce of effort poured into it, it had risen to a level comparable to our Redwood Cabernet Sauvignon.
“You’re going to use this for the blend?”
Warren’s eyes widened as he stood before the barrel containing only the grapes brought from Ironwood. He had assumed that since I was aiming for a top-tier cult wine, I would naturally use the Redwood harvest.
“I believe Redwood should continue to focus on Echelon. It’s about 50,000 liters, so we can’t turn all of that into a cult wine. I was thinking of selecting about a third of it from the best barrels.”
“Hmm... then that would be just under 2,000 cases?”
“That’s right.”
The grapes harvested from the 30-acre Ironwood Cellars amounted to roughly 85 tons. I heard they used to harvest more than double that, but since I focused on drastically reducing yields to boost quality, 85 tons was the total. The wine made from them was just under 50,000 liters, all produced under optimal conditions in the state-of-the-art stainless steel tanks I had installed.
I was confident it would be worthy of being a cult wine.
“Hmm... to think the flavor would wake up like this in less than a year... The way you handled lot separation, fermentation, and extraction was honestly beyond my expectations. How did you come up with that?”
“I’ve been drawing it out in my head while constantly studying.”
It was closer to a series of continuous experiments than just drawing it in my head, but since it was true that I kept studying, it was about half-true.
“Incredible. I’m also called a genius when it comes to wine, but I wasn’t like this when I was young.”
“You’re too kind.”
“How long are you thinking for the marriage time?”
The so-called marriage time refers to the period during which each wine component fuses into one.
Simply putting Cabernet Sauvignon, Franc, Merlot, and Petit Verdot—wines with such distinct personalities—into one bottle and mixing them doesn’t result in a perfectly integrated flavor. We usually set the period for these different wines to properly fuse at about four to six weeks, and only after this period passes is the blending considered complete.
Every time Echelon was bottled and released from the barrels, it had gone through this exact period.
“I think we should aim for six weeks.”
“Good. It’s a shame it won’t be a Napa Valley wine.”
“It’s fine. I made it looking solely at the wine itself, so we can receive the evaluation on the region later. Besides, I’m curious. I want to see how the market evaluates it when the wine itself has high quality despite a poor regional reputation...”
“I’m curious about that myself.”
To label a wine with a specific AVA (American Viticultural Area) name like Napa Valley, at least 85% of the grapes used in that wine must be grown in that region.
Among the components going into this cult wine, Petit Verdot didn’t take up a large portion at under 8%, but the problem was that the Prime Mountain farm where we grew the Cabernet Franc was located exactly on the border between Napa and Sonoma.
Ultimately, to calculate the Napa ratio, I would have to precisely prove whether the Cabernet Franc harvested from Prime Mountain was Napa-side or Sonoma-side fruit.
Because of that, realistically, I couldn’t use the Napa Valley label for this cult wine, but I didn’t care much. I was more focused on how to make it a great wine.
Just then, a call came in from an unknown number. I answered it absentmindedly, and a lively voice came through.
“Hello. Is this Brian Choi from Redwood?”
“Yes, it is. How did you know to call me?”
“You didn’t save my number? I gave it to you a few years ago when you acquired Silveroak...”
“Ah...! Yes...”
It seemed to be the lawyer who reviewed the contract details on the Silveroak side when the documents were going back and forth. I didn’t remember his face well since I’d only seen him once, but I could recall the vibe.
“It’s nothing else, but I was wondering if you might be interested in a vineyard listing this time, so I reached out.”
Of course, I was interested. Isn’t that why I hadn’t spent money and kept saving up until this point?
“Do you have a decent listing?”
When I asked as if to play hard to get, the other side responded with enthusiasm.
“Of course! I’d like to visit and explain it to you; would that be possible?”
“Hmm... it’s a busy season these days...”
I was interested, but I played hard to get once more.
“I know. It’s September, so I know you’re busy with the harvest season approaching. I won’t take much of your time; I’ll just briefly introduce the listing. Are you free tomorrow by any chance?”
“Yes, the afternoon should be fine.”
“Understood. You’ll likely have some free time around 4:00 PM, so I’ll visit then.”
Farm work usually starts in the morning, so by late afternoon, there’s quite a bit of breathing room.
It was clear he was very knowledgeable about this line of work.
“Yes, yes.”
When I hung up, Warren asked.
“What was that about?”
“It’s the lawyer who reviewed the contract when I acquired part of the Silveroak farm. He says he has a good listing and asked if I’m interested.”
One might wonder why a lawyer would do such a thing, but vineyard or winery transactions aren’t simple real estate deals; they have the nature of corporate M&A, so lawyers are often deeply involved or hold brokerage qualifications themselves.
So, it wasn’t particularly unusual for a lawyer to reach out.
“Oho, you’re thinking of expanding, then?”
“I can’t be satisfied with just a small farm.”
“It’s admirable that you’re thinking of that instead of trying to do something else with that money. If it were my sons, they’d only think about saving up to do something else. Tsk tsk tsk...”
He suddenly started badmouthing his own children, and since I couldn’t join in, I just turned my gaze away.
“I’m just not interested in other fields.”
“That’s the right way. When you have such great talent, if you turn your eyes to making easy money, you end up losing on both sides and ruining your life. I’ve seen many such friends. I even had a friend who blew his winery on gambling.”
“That’s a shame.”
“There’s no law saying my children won’t end up like that. You should educate your children well.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
He soon shook his head and reproached himself.
“I’m getting old, so I’m starting to nag. Let’s go look at the Merlot.”
“Let’s.”
And so, Warren and I got in the car and headed to Sonoma. Since I couldn’t use the Napa Valley label anyway, the wider range of choices was a plus.
The next day, a white Lexus slowly approached the farm entrance and came to a stop. As the door opened, a man in a neat black suit stepped out. He was a man with short-trimmed hair and impressively cold, sunken blue eyes.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Ben Lowell.”
“I’m Woody Choi.”
After shaking hands with my father, he immediately reached out to me.
“I’m Brian Choi.”
“It’s an honor. I was greatly surprised to hear that Warren Winiarski, whom I personally respect, would be working here... It is an honor to be able to introduce my listings to Redwood.”
“Haha, it’s a pity he’s inside the aging room.”
“It can’t be helped.”
Sitting on the office sofa, Ben Lowell took the prepared documents out of his black briefcase and said.
“For your information, I pride myself on being an expert among experts who knows everything from law, tax, and farm sales to cadastral maps and environmental regulations here in Napa.”
Such active and confident boasting... I could clearly feel the difference between Korea and the U.S. in this regard.
“I see.”
“I wanted to tell you in advance that I am different from those amateurs who sell anything they don’t know about just because it’s a vineyard. In that sense, looking at Redwood, I think I know how much incredible ability you and Mr. Woody have.”
Dad, who had been listening quietly, asked.
“What did you see to say that?”
“I know the previous owner of this place.”
“Ah...”
“This area, just south of To-Kalon, which is the core of the core of Napa Valley, has several small farms like Redwood stuck together. Each seems to have its own characteristics, but from a consumer’s perspective, there was only one thing I felt: It belongs to Napa Valley, but the wine is not special.”
“I suppose you could see it that way.”
“Even Redwood here couldn’t properly produce even that non-special wine, but everything changed when the owner changed. And now, it is becoming the protagonist of Napa Valley.”
“You’ve done a lot of research, haven’t you?”
At my question, Ben smirked.
“It’s not research; this place is my home turf, and wine and vineyards are part of my life. It’s information I naturally have to know.”
“Oh...”
“So, I was a bit nervous when I visited Redwood today. I even checked the listings once more until this morning. I was worried the price might have dropped, but there hasn’t been any change yet.”
He said it with a wink; I thought, as expected of a lawyer, he speaks well.
“Currently, all farms are in a difficult situation. There is almost no farm that isn’t struggling. But if you think about it the other way, it means that a place that utilizes this difficult time well can achieve tremendous growth when the market recovers. The listing I’m showing you today is a perfect match for that.”
He spun his tale as if showing me a great treasure; it was interesting and, in a way, I found myself looking forward to it. They say all lawyers are salespeople, and this guy would probably be good at selling cars too.
“First is Spring Mountain Vineyard.”
He tapped his finger on the photo visible on the first page of the document. The mountain ridge rising through the clouds and the Cabernet Sauvignon densely planted along that ridge were impressive. He continued his explanation with a confident expression.
“This 46-acre farm is at an altitude of 450–550m, and the drainage is among the best in Napa. The gravelly loam soil is very high-end. It’s a place where very clean acidity forms between 25–26 Brix, so it can be said to be the optimal place for a farm owner who expects high-altitude Cabernet Sauvignon.”
“What are the downsides?”
At my question, he grinned.
“There are. First, the accessibility is terrible? Moving workers is difficult, logistics are hard, and the irrigation facilities are outdated. You’ll need quite a bit of investment capital after the initial acquisition. And... the maintenance costs are astronomical. But the price is only 5.5 million dollars. It came out incredibly cheap.”
“Shall we look at the next farm?”
Ben nodded as if he expected that, and flipped through a few pages of the document.
“The second is Oxbow Vineyard. It’s a relatively small scale of 25 acres, so in a way, you could say it’s a place where you can invest lightly.”
Even if 25 acres is small, it’s still 10 acres larger than Redwood. Looking at the gentle hills near the river in the photo, it was so picturesque and beautiful that it made me think I definitely wanted to have it.
He continued his explanation as if selling a very beautiful piece of art.
“The soil is alluvial loam, soil washed down by the Napa River for tens of thousands of years. It’s the optimal place for growing Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc.”
“So you’re saying it’s good land if I want to grow white wine.”
“That’s right. The location is also good. Accessibility to the city is good, so hiring workers is easy, and it would be the best area for expanding a tasting room.”
Since white wine is something I want to challenge myself with someday, it would be a lie to say I wasn’t greedy for it.
“What are the downsides?”
“It’s land with almost no downsides, but if I had to pick one, it’s water. Alluvial lowlands tend to rely heavily on groundwater for agricultural water, and there’s a rumor going around that they will regulate groundwater to only a certain amount. The Governor even mentioned the need for regulation while creating a task force directly under the state government. I don’t know when this will be enacted, but if it happens, it could become a bit difficult.”
I was quite surprised inwardly. I didn’t expect him to be so honest as to list as a downside a law that hadn’t even been enacted yet. And in reality, the downside he mentioned made things quite difficult for farms when the Sustainable Groundwater Management Act was enacted in 2014.
“Shall we look at the next farm?”
He shrugged his shoulders and showed the last document. But the photo of the farm visible in the document was a very familiar shape.
“Oh?”
“You know it, right? It’s Silveroak Hills Vineyards in the neighborhood right next door. It’s 32 acres of land, and since it’s attached right next to yours, it’s the optimal land for expansion.”
Seeing him with his eyes sparkling, it was certain that Ben had come intending to sell this land from the very beginning.