The Harvest and the Auction
Located in the southern part of Napa Valley is the Laird Family Estate. It is a custom crush facility—a winery that provides winemaking equipment and services—and it is the largest of its kind in the Napa area.
From early morning, a line of large trailers snaked into the property. As the rear gates opened, 0.5-ton bins filled with perfectly ripened grape clusters were revealed one after another. The fruit, kissed by the morning sun, looked firm and fresh, and the scent of sweet grape must saturated the air.
“These are all Pinot Noir. This is the first batch, 15 tons. Please verify.”
The driver handed over the invoice, and I nodded as I inspected the cargo. The grapes, plump and taut, looked as if they would burst with juice at the slightest touch. I plucked one and chewed it, skin and all; it tasted and smelled exactly as I had hoped.
Having confirmed through fermentation tests on the day I visited the farm that the fruit had been completely untouched by wildfire smoke, I gave my father a thumbs-up.
“It’s perfect.”
“That’s good to hear.”
The bins were loaded onto forklifts and moved into the custom crush facility. Inside, stainless steel fermentation tanks, already sterilized, stood in gleaming rows. The air held a faint mixture of disinfectant and metallic tang, but as each crate of grapes arrived, that scent was quickly overwritten by the aroma of the fruit.
“Please move them carefully! Put those into the destemmer over there, and for 20%, we’re going to crush them whole without destemming!”
The process from the moment grapes arrive at the winery until they enter the fermentation tank is called destemming/pre-processing. Destemming is the act of removing the stems from the clusters to isolate the berries, while pre-processing involves sorting, cooling, sanitation, and minor additions (SO₂, enzymes) done before or after destemming to protect the flavor and aroma before fermentation begins.
The Laird winery employee tilted his head at my instruction but followed it nonetheless. It must have seemed strange to leave 20% of the clusters with their stems intact, but since the customer requested it, he didn’t bother to argue.
“Is the crusher roller set exactly to the specifications I provided?”
“Yes, it is.”
I immediately directed the workers to start the machinery. The machine hummed to life, separating the berries from the stems. The berries rolled down the gray conveyor belt, while the discarded stems piled up in a side bin. The berries then moved directly to the crusher, where their skins were gently broken. At that moment, red grape juice cascaded into the tank below like a waterfall.
The scent of the juice, gathering in the stainless steel basin, was both sweet and sharp.
My father, watching from the side, marveled at the sight.
“Thinking that all of this will become wine makes my heart race.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“But putting them in as whole clusters—that wasn’t in any of the books I’ve read.”
My father, who had been obsessed with studying whenever he wasn’t working lately, sometimes threw such sharp questions my way.
“Ah, it’s a method that hasn’t been researched for very long. It’s called whole-cluster fermentation, where you put the clusters into the tank with the stems still attached. Doing this adds more aroma and structure.”
“Is that so?”
“Grape stems contain things like hexanones, terpenes, and organic acids. Some of these are released during fermentation. They provide complex aromas like rose, jasmine, or herbs. Especially for varieties like Pinot Noir, which are dominated by red berry scents like cherry and raspberry, adding these elements increases complexity and sophistication.”
“Oh—so that’s a new discovery?”
“Yes. And the stems also contain lignin, cellulose, and tannins, which provide additional structure. The important thing is that you only use them when the stems are fully ripe. You can tell by the color—they have to be a distinct brown. Otherwise, you’ll get a green, vegetal taste.”
Beyond this, there were many differences between the methods I was using and the traditional practices of the winery, such as hand-harvesting at dawn and ensuring the berries remained intact during destemming.
I was confident that by applying techniques from my previous life, such as cold soaking and oxygen management, I could create a Pinot Noir that was on an entirely different level.
Having lived at the Laird winery for nearly a week, I was finally able to return to school the following week.
“Where on earth have you been? Why haven’t you been coming to school?”
Chloe pouted, clearly frustrated that I hadn’t shown up for a week and hadn’t been answering my phone.
“I was swamped. Didn’t Armando tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“That I’ve been pickled in grapes all week for the Pinot Noir custom crush?”
She looked completely clueless.
“No? He didn’t say anything.”
“Ah, I guess he didn’t mention it because I hadn’t told him first.”
Armando worked with me every day I wasn’t at school to earn his daily wage, so he knew me better than anyone. If he hadn’t said anything, he was either a man of few words, or he knew just how sensitive I was about my business.
“But Pinot Noir? Isn’t your family’s main crop Cabernet Sauvignon?”
“I bought it from an outside source about six months ago. Now that we’ve started the fermentation, it’ll be a while before it’s marketable.”
“How much is it?”
“45 tons?”
Chloe’s jaw dropped at the unexpected number.
“Really? That’s a huge amount! Will you be okay?”
“Of course, I will. Don’t worry, I have no intention of neglecting the cherry wine.”
“I wasn’t worried! I was just bored.”
“Bored? You should be busy studying...”
Her major, plant science, was by no means an easy field. With foundational subjects like biology, chemistry, organic chemistry, physics, calculus, and statistics, it was easy to fail if you didn’t stay glued to your textbooks throughout the semester.
“...... You make studying sound so easy.”
“I... I guess I’m doing alright.”
Perhaps because of the stereotype that Asians are naturally good at studying, Chloe accepted it easily, though she gave me a look that said she found me annoying.
“How can someone live only by studying? You’ll die.”
Honestly, as someone who barely studied at all, I could only sympathize with her passionate outburst.
“Sure, whatever you say.”
“Hmph, anyway, are you going to the Sunset Fest?”
The Sunset Fest was a festival held regularly at UC Davis every early October, featuring famous singers, DJs, and performances by students. I’d heard it included various games, food stalls, club introductions, and freshman welcome events.
“Do I have to...?”
Early October wasn’t exactly a leisurely time for me. It was the period when I had to constantly check the harvest timing for the Cabernet Sauvignon I had spent nearly a year cultivating.
Of course, I didn’t need to check it every hour, but it was a time that required constant attention.
“You’re not going?”
Just as I flinched at her glaring eyes, Jacob came running over, shouting at the top of his lungs.
“Brian! Brian!”
Jacob, who had run over like Achilles after a victory in battle, panted for a moment before speaking.
“Did you see? They’re having a festival called Sunset Fest!”
“...... I see.”
“Do you know who’s coming? Don’t be surprised, but...”
Jacob excitedly reeled off the names of several singers and bands, but I didn’t know any of them.
“Really? Truly? Wow...”
That was the extent of my reaction.
“Isn’t this what college life is all about? Let’s have a blast. Armando will probably love it the most.”
I couldn’t bring myself to tell them to go have fun without me.
“... Yeah, let’s do that.”
Chloe was smirking at me from the side, but I pretended not to notice.
Just then, a man approached the soccer stadium bleachers where Chloe, Jacob, and I were sitting.
“You’re Brian, right? Do you remember me?”
I looked to see who it was, and it was Matthew Higgins, a junior who had introduced himself during the first orientation. The son of the owner of Castello Farm... effectively the son of the wealthiest family in Napa Valley.
“Ah...”
“Why are you acting so awkward?”
After shaking hands, he glanced briefly at my friends. Aside from the fact that his gaze lingered on Chloe a bit longer than necessary, he looked back at me calmly and spoke.
“I heard from Sienna that you’re quite skilled?”
“Well, I’m not so sure about that.”
“Are you entering the Sonoma County Harvest Fair this time?”
“I’m entering, but not for wine. Just some table grapes.”
Matthew Higgins shrugged, looking surprised.
“Really? Why? I wanted to see that skill of yours.”
His words sounded like sarcasm, but his expression was serious, as if he were genuinely curious. And in truth, what people here really paid attention to wasn’t the grapes, but the wine. After all, good grapes were just ingredients for making good wine.
“I don’t have any finished wine until the end of October. My family acquired the farm around this time last year. Before that, we couldn’t produce proper grapes due to pests.”
“Ah... so that was the situation? Then you won’t be able to make it to the California Wine Festival either, then?”
If the Sonoma County Harvest Fair was a local festival, the California Wine Festival was a regional event, and the scale was entirely different. Of course, Sonoma County wasn’t exactly small, but it couldn’t be compared to the whole of California.
“I suppose so.”
“That’s a shame. Then I’ll only be able to see your wine evaluation skills at the Sonoma festival.”
“Pardon? What do you mean?”
“Ah, didn’t you know? They provide blind wine evaluation opportunities for students in our department. The students’ scores aren’t reflected in the official results, but it’s a chance to see how your palate compares to the regular judges. Professors give extra credit to the students who write down scores closest to the judges.”
“Ah...”
“I’ll see your true skills then. I have high expectations. I’m genuinely curious.”
Is this what they call a 'madman with clear eyes'? There was a strange glint of madness in Matthew’s eyes.
“Haha... it’s nothing special.”
“We’ll see about that. If you have any trouble with school life, feel free to ask me anytime. Oh! That’s right. We’re growing the same variety, aren’t we? Cabernet Sauvignon.”
“I... suppose we are?”
“Our farm doesn’t usually enter table grapes, but I think I’ll enter this time. Let’s see what happens.”
Matthew pressed his index finger gently against my chest, looked at me, smiled, and turned to walk away. As I stared blankly at his retreating back, Jacob spoke up.
“Hey, he’s scary, isn’t he?”
“Even you find him scary?”
“Of course. That guy is just weird.”
Just as Jacob, who was usually like Achilles, shivered in fear, my phone vibrated frivolously. The caller was Pierce Morgan from the Agricultural Extension Office.
“Do you have a moment?”
“You mean time to stop by the Agricultural Extension Office?”
“That’s right.”
“If there’s business to be done, I’ll make the time even if I don’t have any.”
I heard a light chuckle on the other end of the line, and I asked again.
“But what is this about...?”
“You know that request you made to me? To let you know if any farms came up for auction at a good price.”
“Yes. Don’t tell me...?”
“That’s right. Due to the massive wildfires, a few decent farms in the Napa area have come up for auction. Are you interested?”
I jumped to my feet.
“Of course! Absolutely!”