Redwood Winery (1)
As we left the wine judging hall, Chloe wore an expression of utter disbelief.
"You really know how to tease people, don't you?"
"Me?"
"Yes, you. Didn't you see the look on that senior's face earlier? You said the same thing after tasting his wine before, too."
"I was just giving him advice out of consideration. You don't know what you're talking about. It's not easy to get advice from me, you know."
Chloe's jaw dropped at my disarmingly confident remark.
"...You really have an incredible amount of confidence, don't you?"
"It's just the truth..."
"Well, I suppose I have received a lot of help from you, so I can't argue."
Chloe might not understand, but from my perspective, it was a bit frustrating. Do you have any idea how much I had to struggle to acquire this level of knowledge? If some twenty-something-year-old thinks they can stand on equal footing with me, doesn't that make all my past hardships feel meaningless?
Specifically, what I told the professor during this blind tasting was knowledge I had gained through a study I had secured from the USDA-NIFA (National Institute of Food and Agriculture), titled Phenolic Maturity Kinetics in Pinot Noir.
So, if someone tries to reach my level without having even tasted a thousand bottles of wine, I can't help but feel a bit slighted. The only reason I said "a thousand" instead of "ten thousand" was out of consideration for Matthew's background.
"Are you finished?"
My parents were carrying bags full of things in both hands—I wasn't sure what they had bought besides the grape-stomping event.
"What is all that?"
"Your father said he wanted to study wine, so he bought a ton. I think my body is going to ache from making snacks for a while."
"Oh, boy..."
It was a pity, but as a winery owner, it wouldn't do to avoid drinking just because alcohol is bad for the body. Perhaps using that as an excuse, my father, who was holding heavy bottles of wine in both hands, couldn't stop smiling.
"There were a lot of good wines."
Of course there were. With the best wineries in North America concentrated in Sonoma and Napa, it would be strange if the wine weren't good.
"I bought some for Chloe, too. It's quite a good vintage. Take it to your father."
It seemed Mom had bought one to give to Chloe. When I handed her the paper bag containing the wine, Chloe beamed.
"Thank you. My dad will love it."
"Great. Now, let's go get something delicious to eat."
And so, my family and Chloe enjoyed the delicious steak and wine sold at the festival. My father was disappointed that he couldn't taste the wine because he had to drive, but he seemed to hold back his frustration knowing that over a dozen bottles were packed safely in the car.
A few days later, my father and I met with a famous vineyard broker in Napa Valley. We had only discussed the details of the transaction over the phone until now, and today was the day we were finally going to sign the contract.
"I guarantee you, there won't be another opportunity to buy an AVA (American Viticultural Area) in Napa Valley at a lower price than this. As you know from operating a farm, if you just struggle through for a few years, it will bring you great profit."
The broker made it sound very easy, but those "few years" meant at least five, and there was always the risk of natural disasters, pests, or diseases, so it wasn't something anyone could easily jump into. He knew that, which is why he was making his final pitch.
"Here is the pre-approval letter."
When my father handed over the document he had received from the bank, the broker smiled with satisfaction.
"Excellent. Still, just in case, the contract will include a financing contingency clause. If for some reason the loan doesn't go through, the contract becomes null and void."
"Of course."
"Good."
Just then, the door opened with a jingle, and a very familiar face appeared. It was none other than Elowen Pike. My father and I had expected to meet him, but as he entered the brokerage office and saw our faces, he looked flustered.
He walked in slowly, confirmed who we were, and spoke to the broker in a rather sharp tone.
"Are these the people buying my land?"
"That's correct. Is there a problem?"
"..."
Would he really flip the table and walk out? In the end, he hesitated in the face of the $1.1 million, and sat down. Of course, he kept his arms crossed, fully in defensive mode.
"Hmph! Trying to snatch it up quickly because you think it's an opportunity? You aren't equating land scorched by wildfire with powdery mildew, are you?"
My father didn't waver in the slightest at his sarcasm.
"We are prepared to struggle for about five years."
"Suit yourself. It's not my concern."
Most of the farmers cultivating grapes on this land had acquired their plots at much lower prices than today. Elowen was no different, and even though he was selling it for much less than the market price, he seemed somewhat satisfied with getting $1.1 million in his hands right away.
$1.1 million would be enough to clear all the debts that were plaguing him and still leave a significant amount of money.
"Haha, then shall we check the contract?"
At the broker's words, my father, myself, and Elowen read through the dense contract in detail. Since we had already had the contract and related contents reviewed by Pierce Morgan, there were no issues.
After we finished reading the contract in a short time, Elowen said with a stiff face:
"I'll mark the boundaries clearly, so I hope you don't make any mistakes in the future."
Until now, we had been neighbors from a distance, but now we were neighbors whose farms shared a border. Personally, I preferred his guarded attitude, as I didn't want him seeing the various soil improvements we were planning to implement.
"Don't worry, we will never cross the boundary."
At my response, he curled one corner of his lip.
"I hope so. Well then, good luck with your hard work."
He shook hands with my father, gave us a slight sneer, and walked out. But even in his arrogant display, I could feel how much his heart must have been aching. It was clear he was putting on a front to hide his distress.
"Don't pay him any mind. We just need to do our best."
My father comforted me, thinking I was upset about being looked down upon.
"Of course. I'm not bothered at all."
Afterward, we took the contract to the bank to process the loan, and they said it would take nearly a month for the actual funds to be released. During that time, Elowen showed his meticulous nature by putting up a wooden fence along the boundary where the fire had occurred.
Meanwhile, fearing that the soil might wash away if it rained, I brought in workers to cover the vast land with straw and coconut mats, preventing the rain from directly striking the soil.
A month later, the funds finally came through. I could imagine the look on Elowen's face as he enjoyed his $1.1 million, and we returned home with trembling hands after taking out such a large loan.
I was confident in our success, but my heart was pounding after borrowing $1.1 million—not $110,000. I hadn't been this bold before my regression. But after seeing the land with my own eyes—land that was once part of the old Silveroak farm and was now devastated by wildfire—my excitement outweighed my fear.
Now that I could finally get to work, I spread the biochar compost I had prepared in mountains onto the devastated land and prepared to plant rye and barley.
"We aren't tilling the land right away?"
"We'll do the deep plowing in the spring. If we plant these now, the roots will hold the soil and prevent erosion. And when spring comes, if we plow them back into the earth, they'll serve as natural fertilizer, supplying organic matter and nitrogen to the soil."
My father and Armando nodded at my explanation.
"So we need to plant them quickly, then?"
"Exactly. The loan came through late, so we don't have much time. It's a good thing we've had so little rain; if it had rained heavily, we would have been in trouble. Let's move quickly."
By the time we finished planting the rye and barley, it was already mid-November. I had been preoccupied with organizing the newly acquired farmland, but I made time to visit Mr. Pierce Morgan.
"Our winery is ready."
He smiled as if he had been waiting for me to visit.
"Ready as soon as you arrived? What do you mean?"
"Come on, I asked you before. About the cherry wine tasting event. If it's too difficult, that's fine; I can reach out to them myself."
When I made a dejected, disappointed face, he stood up from his seat.
"Haha, I know you're acting."
"Oh, you noticed?"
"It's not so much that I noticed, but I did ask around through people I know. But are you sure about this? The people gathering will be quite prestigious restaurant owners in California. You need to know that if you make one mistake, they will never look favorably on wine from Redwood Winery again."
"I know that well. And I'm prepared for it."
"Is that so? Then I understand. Set a date, and I'll let them know."
"Thank you. In return, I'll give you a bottle of wine every time we release a new batch from the winery."
"I appreciate that."
I set the tasting event for November 25th and spent my time calling high-end restaurants in Napa and Santa Rosa to promote it. Sienna's father might have already contacted some of them, but I didn't care about the overlap. Relying solely on Sienna's father to gather people was too big a risk, as I didn't know how many people he would actually bring.
And introducing truly important restaurant owners to another winery? That's not the mindset of a typical businessman. Mr. Pierce might do it with good intentions because he isn't a businessman, but I couldn't be sure if Sienna's father felt the same way.
"You're going to the Redwood tasting event? Why there?"
When Matthew heard the news that Sienna was attending the Redwood Winery tasting, he came to find her. She started to explain, but it seemed too complicated, so she answered briefly.
"It just happened that way. And I think their wine is actually worth acknowledging."
"...Fine. If a good winery emerges, it's good for Napa, too."
Matthew, who had been glaring at her with cold eyes, smiled as if nothing had happened and disappeared. Shaking her head, she went to her Viticulture 101 class and handed a note her father had given her to the Asian boy who was still only a freshman—a fact she still found hard to believe.
"The restaurants written there will be participating. The owner might come, or a manager might come."
When I checked the note, as I had feared, there were only three restaurant names written down. And they weren't even very famous places, but rather restaurants with ambiguous price ranges. In fact, this was to be expected. Why would Sienna's father, the owner of Hamington, promote me so diligently? I'd be lucky if he didn't actively sabotage me.
Mr. Pierce Morgan must have asked a well-known large-scale farm owner to help me, but the results weren't very good. I felt sorry for Mr. Pierce, wondering if I shouldn't have asked him since the result was lackluster.
However, I didn't show any disappointment to Sienna and instead gave her a smile.
"Oh, thank you."
No, to be more precise, I wasn't that disappointed. I had been preparing for this exact scenario.
"And my father and I will be going, too. I'm curious what kind of wine it is."
"I'd love to let you taste as much as you want, but I'm sorry that the quantity is limited. Oh, the Pinot Noir will be available for tasting, so try comparing it."
It was clear that Sienna's father had only set the stage for three mediocre restaurants to participate because he wanted to verify the true skill of Redwood Winery. So...
"Hamington Winery's flagship wine is Pinot Noir, right? It'll be fun to compare them."
I intend to give Sienna's father exactly what he wants.