The Apex of Redwood
All eyes were fixed on one spot: the wine bottle in Dad’s hand. Light slid across the black glass, illuminating the label. The golden lettering against the dark background and the pyramid symbol, signifying the pinnacle, stood out with striking clarity.
Echelon
Dad set the bottle aside where it could be clearly seen, then picked up the decanter containing the wine I had prepared and poured it into the guests' glasses. As the wine flowed, a deep ruby hue rippled like a tide. For a moment, no one spoke. They were all simply waiting to discover the true nature of the liquid.
“Please, start by taking in the aroma.”
The glasses tilted slowly in their hands. Sommeliers, restaurant owners, wine bar managers... their noses dipped into the glasses in unison. A scent of dense blackcurrant and ripe plum brushed past, followed by the subtle, smoky char of oak.
A sigh escaped them—part breath, part exclamation.
“Hmm...”
“Ha, this is good.”
The attendees locked eyes. They didn't need to speak to understand each other. Their expressions were clear: it was unfamiliar, but undeniably beyond their expectations.
When the first sip touched their lips, their expressions shifted even more dramatically. The texture glided softly; the tannins resting on the tip of the tongue weren't harsh, and the subtle, lingering acidity provided a firm backbone to the wine.
For those who knew it had been aged for such a short time, the taste was nothing short of shocking.
“This is... only a little over a year old?”
The restaurant owner, Theodore, looked down at his glass with wide eyes, and I answered briefly.
“Yes, exactly 11 months. We awakened the flavors early, but I believe you’ll find it lacks nothing in the heavy presence of Cabernet Sauvignon.”
Next to him, Joshua swirled his glass and shook his head in admiration.
“I would have believed you if you said it had been aged for at least three years. I can’t believe it.”
Exclamations of praise rippled through the room beyond them. Someone mentioned the tannins, another asked about the blending ratio, and a third compared it to Cerassia. Every glass filled with the wine became a catalyst for conversation.
“I hope you enjoyed it. We are more than satisfied just to have had the opportunity to introduce Redwood’s blend. Especially since we invited such esteemed guests and it seems no one was disappointed.”
At those words, the people gathered at the tasting nodded. No one disagreed. Instead, everyone’s gaze converged on one thing: they had to secure this wine.
“When is the release date?”
“What is the volume?”
“What are the contract terms...?”
“Is it possible to take a few bottles with us now?”
Questions poured out in a rush. People pulled out notebooks, others tapped on calculators... eyes full of competitive tension darted between them.
“The release is tomorrow. We have more stock than we did for Cerassia, so you don’t need to worry too much. We have a little over 2,000 cases.”
However, even at the mention of 2,000 cases, the look in their eyes didn't soften much. They knew that a limited quantity combined with high quality meant the price of the wine would likely be quite high.
“What is the price?”
Someone asked the most important question, and Dad took a breath before answering calmly.
“The wholesale supply price will be 37 dollars per bottle.”
The attendees looked surprised at first, but soon nodded in agreement. It was true that compared to some of the wines representing Napa Valley or the DRC of Burgundy, France, there was a slight gap. But for a red wine made for the first time by this small winery to even be compared to such wines was, in fact, absurd.
Someone shook their head and muttered.
“They’re going to sell every last drop.”
That remark hit the nail on the head regarding the 37-dollar wholesale price. Dad smiled faintly and continued.
“This time, it will be distributed through wholesalers rather than direct shipping. Mr. John Anderson here will be delivering directly to your shops.”
At those words, John, who had been sitting in the corner, awkwardly stood up, took off his hat, bowed, and stepped forward.
John Anderson, who had attended the tasting today, was having a rather unique experience. Honestly, he had scoffed when the winery first asked him to come to the tasting. It seemed ridiculous to hold a tasting for a wine release from a mere 15-acre winery.
But while waiting, famous restaurant and wine bar owners had arrived one after another. Among them were places with such name value that even getting a reservation in the region was difficult.
From that moment on, John Anderson had to admit that this Asian family wasn't just good at making vinegar. And that the cherry wine hadn't just been a stroke of luck, either...
He was slightly dissatisfied that the 30-dollar wholesale price was being introduced at a 37-dollar retail price, but it was clear that this distribution would net him nearly 20,000 dollars in profit.
Since they had promised to let him sell it for more next year, he had to be satisfied with this for now.
“For customers who place a pre-order today, we will offer a 10-dollar discount per case. Of course, for those who wish, we can load the wine into your cars right now.”
As soon as he finished speaking, hands went up everywhere to place orders. And among them, Chef Daniel Rocca, with whom I had built a connection at the Winkler Dinner, waved at me and caught my eye.
As I approached, he smiled and said.
“I’m so grateful you invited me to today’s tasting. If I had known it would be like this, we would have stocked the cherry wine last year.”
“It’s quite alright. We’re just happy you liked it today.”
“I have a question. Why did you only invite actual business owners like restaurants and wine bars? If you had invited critics or journalists, the ripple effect would have been even greater.”
“Because then it would be too much for us to handle. The cherry wine sold out in less than a month, and if articles were published, we’d be flooded with inquiries at the winery, which would be difficult.”
At my explanation, Daniel looked astonished.
“Ha... amazing. I suppose once a wine gets word-of-mouth, it’s consumed in such massive quantities that there’s no need to invite critics. Also, tell me, what food and in what state do you think Echelon reaches its perfect pairing point?”
“Echelon is best about an hour after decanting, once the tannins have loosened up a bit, rather than right out of the bottle. At that moment, the power of the blackcurrant remains alive, while the acidity cleanses the oiliness of the food. It pairs particularly well with dishes that leave a lingering richness and aroma in the mouth, like charcoal-grilled steak or lamb roasted with rosemary.”
The deep, dark red fruit scent that comes from well-ripened Cabernet is called blackcurrant, and in wine tasting, we say the "power is alive" when that scent doesn't die or fade but maintains a strong presence for a long time.
I wasn't a fan of such metaphorical expressions originally because I was a scholar and a researcher rather than someone who just loved wine, but I didn't ignore the way wine enthusiasts expressed themselves. So, I phrased it in a way a chef could understand most intuitively.
“Oh, then is this one also...?”
“Yes, I decanted it before you arrived.”
“I see. By the way, when are you holding a tasting for that famous cherry wine?”
“Haha, we judged that you were already familiar enough with Cerassia, so we have no plans for a tasting for this year’s vintage. The release is scheduled for late November to early December. And there will be no tasting for the Pinot Noir we’re releasing a month later, either.”
“You have a Pinot Noir, too? Why no tasting for that?”
“We held a tasting for a Pinot Noir last year that hadn't fully awakened yet. It felt like we were making too much of a fuss, so we decided to just release it. Please don't misunderstand; it’s not because we lack confidence in the quality.”
It was true that I didn't want to seem like I was making a fuss, but the price of Pinot Noir was rising steadily anyway. It had reached a point where farms we had contracted by the plot were hinting that other wineries were offering them higher prices.
Currently, in the Sonoma area, the atmosphere between farms that grew Pinot Noir and those that didn't was starkly divided, and rumors were rampant that farmers were agonizing over whether they should switch varieties. In such a situation, I was concerned that gathering people for a Pinot Noir tasting might draw unwanted attention from neighboring farms.
Also, since wine enthusiasts try to experience all the wines from a winery if the flagship line is well-received, if today’s tasting results were good, there was no need to go as far as a tasting for the Pinot Noir.
“That’s a shame. I’m just disappointed. Well, please let me know when the Pinot Noir is released. I’ll be the first to order it.”
“Yes, I will.”
And so, the tasting concluded with great success.
A luxury sedan glided into the Harrington family mansion on the hills of Healdsburg. The person who stepped out of the car was André Leclerc, the owner-chef of the San Francisco Michelin-starred restaurant Le Jardin. He was carefully holding a bottle of wine in his hand. It was Echelon, which he had secured at the tasting held at Redwood Winery that afternoon.
As he entered, expecting to see what kind of reaction he would get, Mark Harrington, who had been sitting in the center of the living room, stood up.
“You brought it.”
“Fortunately, they had finished bottling and labeling and were ready for release, so it wasn't too difficult to get it today.”
Mark’s touch was more impatient than expected. He took the bottle the chef offered and read the label.
“Echelon? I’ll have to see if it has truly reached the pinnacle its name suggests.”
A faint smile spread across his lips. Since he had no business relationship with them, it was natural that he hadn't been invited to today’s tasting, but Mark found it hard to overcome his curiosity. He wanted to know what kind of quality the real red wine that Redwood Winery had properly prepared would show.
Mark immediately picked up a corkscrew. With a short, clear pop, the cork came out. For a moment, the scent scattered briefly into the air. He caught his breath and said.
“The decanter.”
Sienna, who had been nervous since Dad was waiting anxiously, quickly moved to bring the crystal decanter. Mark tilted the bottle and carefully poured the ruby-colored liquid. The wine caught the light and flowed slowly down the glass wall.
Leclerc smiled as he watched.
“It will take about 30 minutes to fully awaken.”
Mark, having set aside his anxious heart for a moment, cast a glance toward Leclerc.
“How was the tasting today?”
“Many people came. The influence of the previous Cerassia was certainly significant. Everyone thinks Cerassia isn't Redwood’s flagship wine. They all wanted to see the real thing.”
“Hmm, I suppose so.”
“The reaction was...”
Leclerc, who had been watching Mark’s expression, gave an awkward smile and said with difficulty.
“It was very good. There was even talk that it might have been made with grapes grown in To-Kalon.”
“That good?”
Mark, who had already experienced it once at the alumni wine showcase, frowned and looked at the purple liquid in the decanter.
“It’s only the first vintage, so the anticipation for even more skilled balance in the future has grown.”
“Is that possible?”
“I don’t know. They didn't label it as a common Cabernet Sauvignon from the start. At the very least, it seemed they had a clear direction.”
With things turning out this way, Mark was even more curious about what the still-sleeping Pinot Noir would look like by now.
“That aside, how is the wine market these days?”
“Haha, it’s full of stories you’d like, Mark. Because of Sideways, customers are only looking for Pinot Noir. We’ll probably have to place an additional order for our restaurant soon.”
“That’s great news.”
As if they had forgotten they were ever talking about Echelon, the two engaged in a lively conversation about other topics. Only Sienna bit her lip, staring intently at the transparent decanter.
Then, after about 30 minutes had passed,
“Dad, it’s time.”
At those words, Mark slowly tilted the neck of the decanter into his glass, filling it. After lifting the glass to feel the aroma and taste, Mark quietly set it down. His eyes were wavering. It was an expression rarely seen on his proud face. And after feeling the lingering finish in his mouth for a long time, he opened his mouth.
“It’s the real deal.”
Leclerc, who already understood the shock he was feeling, smiled quietly.
“That’s right. It’s a real wine.”
“Can it develop even further from here?”
“It might be possible. If that happens...”
“Another monster winery will have emerged in Napa.”
He looked at the golden symbol and the word Echelon on the black glass bottle with wavering eyes.