Leonard trusts his own palate, his own taste memory. They have served him well and, he hopes, the public also. But, he needs to follow this new, obscure blog more closely.
Paris, Charles de Gaulle Airport. With more than an hour before his New-York-bound flight is scheduled to board, Leonard Pillar checks email on his laptop.
He's enjoying a glass of bordeaux in the plush comfort of the American Airlines Admiral's Club. As a high-milage traveler, he deeply values the island of soft-lit calmness available here in the otherwise fluorescent cacophony of airport culture.
He checks his own blog and reviews reader comments to his latest post. He goes to Blind Tasting; there are two new reviews. The Taster blogs:
We really enjoyed the 2007 zinfandels from Two Ravens. A small place out on Dry Creek Road in Sonoma, it was started five years ago by Tobias Rovati, formerly the master vintner at Rookery Estates.
There is a link to Rookery. He continues reading.
These are complex, big wines. Of special note is the extraordinary Fire Lake, rich in peppery plum and smoke. Check out another wine with striking similarities in structure and taste to this Two Ravens offering.
Leonard decides to click the PayPal button even though he feels paying three dollars for the information is questionable.
He's startled to learn what the wine is -- a highly acclaimed 2007 Red Crest zinfandel produced by Callisto Cellars in Sonoma. He himself awarded it 96 points and the blogger mentions a current retail price of seventy-five dollars a bottle. If you can find it. The Two Ravens Fire Lake lists at twenty-two. Leonard smiles. Maybe not for long.
He makes a note on his Blackberry to call Two Ravens and have some zinfandel shipped to him. He reads the second new Blind Tasting post.
More rocket juice from Two Ravens. This 2007 syrah, Love Child, is an Estrella River Clone brought up from Paso Robles to their Alexander Valley vineyard. It's loaded with blackberry and spice, and possesses a long, silky finish. Pure rapture. Are you curious which cult it closely resembles?
Another button, another three bucks. With a sigh, he punches through to see the mystery wine. Holy shit.
The Taster is comparing the Two Ravens syrah with one from Alexa Croft, the Santa Rosa garagiste whose '07 syrah Leonard assigned 98 points to. It recently sold at auction for about a hundred and ninety dollars a bottle. The Love Child is only thirty-five.
Can these two wines really be so similar? Leonard studies the charts of the two wines' attributes, according to the Taster. The guy is definitely ballsy to lay out so many specific traits this way. On the other hand, his call on the Grouse zinfandel was nothing short of astonishing.
Leonard makes a note to order the syrah, too.
Connecticut countryside. Leonard Pillar's interest in the Taster deepens significantly when he samples the zinfandel and the syrah from Two Ravens. The Fire Lake zinfandel is astoundingly similar in nose, mouth and finish to Callisto Cellar's Red Crest. And the Love Child is damn close to that sublime vintage from Alexa Croft. Really damn close.
He now feels a mixture of open admiration and blunt competitiveness toward this guy, the Taster. It's one thing to make a lucky call. It's another to keep making these startling and unexpected comparisons.
He wants to meet this guy. But how? He decides he'll write up a short post on his own blog praising the Taster's spot-on comparisons and his fearless and unique approach to his wine blog.
If the Taster is legitimate, he deserves the credit. Leonard would welcome him as a fellow critic, the rarest kind who chooses the lonely high road of remaining apart from the temptations of the industry, whose palate is not purchased, who does it on sheer talent.
On the other hand, if the guy is involved in some sort of collusion with certain producers, or something worse, it's important to reveal it, to expose it to his own loyal readership. He sincerely hopes the guy is for real.
Cory experiences the force of celebrity when he reads the online mention of his own blog on Leonard Pillar's website, The Wine Perspective. Within days, the web traffic to Cory's site jumps to thousands of hits per day, not hundreds. And coin is beginning to pile up in his PayPal account.
Cory hopes Snoots can keep identifying these interesting match-ups between relatively unknown vintages and the Pillar high fliers. But, they are definitely in uncharted territory.
Chapter Twenty
St. Helena, Napa. It's lunchtime and Cafe Brix is bustling with locals, which means winemakers and grape growers. Toby Rovati, dressed in jeans and chambray shirt, is sitting at a corner table with Joe Trella, a long-time friend and associate.
Joe is a fit, wiry man in his early sixties with a head of well-groomed silver hair. He's tan and clean-shaven and wears a casual, but good quality white shirt rolled up at the sleeves. Joe runs one of the most prestigious wineries in Napa, and one of the oldest family-operated ones. He's a major player in this community.
He refills Toby's wine glass as an attractive blonde in her late thirties sets down their lunch orders, grilled prawns over a bed of arugula, and a hearty homemade minestrone, pasta e fagioli.
The woman, Gail Browning, is the owner of Cafe Brix and she knows Joe and Toby well. She and Toby were romantically involved a year ago and have remained friends.
Toby knows the soup will be excellent; she taught him to make it one rainy afternoon in his Tuscan-styled kitchen in Healdsburg.
She fetches a water pitcher and refills their glasses. "That arugula is from Cloverdale. Picked this morning."
Toby smiles at her. She smiles back, admiring his Mediterranean good looks, his calm, understated strength.
"Gail, it looks fantastic. From Grady's?"
"Uh huh. He's growing a lot of micro-greens these days. He thought San Francisco would be his market, but everything is selling out here in the valley." She gives Joe a glance. "I hope you like the soup. The prosciutto rind is from Emilia."
Joe tries the minestrone, gives an approving nod. She is happy now and darts off to attend to her other regular patrons.
Joe tries more of the excellent soup. "So, we're thinking of a gala dinner. One hundred seventy-five dollars a head."
"One of Linda's fundraisers?" Toby asks, trying the prawns.
Joe nods, taking a sip of wine. "The initiative for research on resilient viticulture. We've raised nearly three hundred thousand this year from the contributions of wineries both here in Napa and Sonoma. Plus the two wine auctions."
Toby savors the riesling in his wine glass. It's from a local small producer and he and Joe are friends of the winery owner.
"Joe, you set a good example for all of us."
Joe is pleased, but dismisses the compliment. "Toby, it's good publicity. Any winery can always use good publicity."
Toby smiles. He's been enjoying some good publicity of his own over the past couple of weeks. After the favorable review of his wines given by the Taster, Leonard Pillar picked up the story. Then, the phone at Two Ravens started to ring.
Toby is now sold out of his 2007 zinfandel and his 2007 syrah. People have called offering him three times the price of the wine. Four times. One determined fellow offered more than five times. But there just isn't any more of it. He has sold every bottle.
A slight, sandy-haired man in his early thirties approaches their table. He's wearing wire-rimmed glasses and projects an aloof, analytical air.
Both men recognize him at once as Todd French. He's a young celebrity winemaker from the Bay Area, he's not a local. His voice is soft and higher pitched than either of their rich baritones.
"Joe, Tobias. Good to see you. How's the vine?"
Toby and Joe both rise briefly to extend cordial handshakes. They don't invite him to sit down.
Todd continues to stand by the table and remarks to Toby, "Well, you got some favorable write-ups recently. I read that Pillar bit. Congratulations."
Toby gives a little nod. "Thanks."
Todd shakes his head, trying to initiate some bonding with the two winemak
ers. "That Blind Tasting blogger disclosed my sources. How he could know this I have no idea. It's a bit unsettling. And it's going to affect what I pay for those grapes in the future."
Toby smiles ironically, he's not going to bond with Todd. "I guess Mike Grouse should thank him."
"I imagine he already has. Sure, it's nice for a little family winery to do well. But, I'm the one who put those grapes on the map."
"I'd say the Taster did that, Todd."
"You're technically right, Tobias. But, I shopped the sources. I saw the vines' potential. Now Grouse gets to ride my coattails."
Joe Trella has had enough interruption at lunch, he wants to enjoy his prawns. He smiles agreeably at Todd. "Winemaking is a tough business. We all know it." But, there's a glint of fire in Joe's eyes. You're among men here. Don't whine.
Todd wants the last word and has it. This remark is intended for Joe, whose wines are prominent and expensive. "Yeah. I'll bet Gucci thinks the handbag market is tough, too. With all the cheap knock-offs sold on the street. Gentlemen, enjoy your lunch."
Todd turns away and goes to a table across the room where he has spotted an acquaintance.
When he's beyond earshot in the crowded cafe, Joe remarks, "Mike Grouse deserves credit for his grapes. Winemaking is more than a branch of information science. I'll bet Todd French never touched a vine in that block of Rockpile. He learned about that vineyard from hearsay, from figuring out who put a little of it in their cuvées."
Toby nods, enjoying a spoonful of the pasta and bean minestrone. He considers himself a better winemaker than Todd French, though he'd never make such an assertion in public. Not even to Joe. He's done well as a local; he doesn't produce a lot and he sells most of it to some of the better restaurants in the area. Joe has told him that he needs to attend to his marketing, cultivate distributors. He knows Joe is right, but finds it much easier and more pleasant to check his barrels, inspect his grapes, focus on the art of winemaking.
Blind Tasting's recent blog review and Pillar's comments on it, though, have provided the sudden boost he needs to begin acquiring the reputation he feels he deserves. And there is now last year's Silver Ridge syrah, still in casks. It could be a masterpiece.
Joe finishes his prawns and looks at Toby. "That blog's review of Mike's Rockpile vines has got me thinking. Instead of a gala dinner, what if we host a blind tasting? The kind of tasting where you have to identify the wines, not just rate them. Invite this guy and see how good he really is, this Taster. Think there are enough curious wine lovers out there who would be interested in attending such an event?"
Toby considers the idea. "I met his business associates when they came up to Sonoma for my wine. They seemed pretty young and not really wine biz people." He remembers the cute brunette. She seemed smart and he liked her sultry voice, but neither she nor her companion struck him as people who knew much about wine.
"What are you saying?" Joe really wants Toby's input on this.
"Joe, I think it's an interesting idea. This guess-the-label tasting you're envisioning is almost never done in public, and for good reason. It's incredibly difficult. That blogger is enjoying the limelight right now after Pillar's thumbs up, so from his perspective, he has almost nothing to win and everything to lose by performing a public tasting. I don't see why he would accept the challenge, unless other wine masters were willing to take him on. Maybe he'd feel more pressure then."
"You're absolutely right. Denis Stafford might agree to participate, and he'll know who else."
Toby considers Joe's choice, nodding. "Denis probably will. Too bad Pillar never does public tastings."
Joe smiles broadly at him. "He doesn't now. He may have to change his mind if the Taster is really as good as he seems."
Chapter Twenty-One
Cafe Medici, Palo Alto. Dawn pulls a handful of receipts out of her book bag and hands them to Cory. "Seven hundred and fifty dollars for the last wine run up to Sonoma. All business expenses. Speaking of which, do you need some help with your mortgage, Cory?"
She hadn't meant to sound so blunt, but was there a subtler way of asking him?
He stuffs the receipts into a pocket of his book bag and looks at her. "With the Pillar publicity, the blog is still not quite breaking even with what we are outlaying for the wine. Daily traffic on the site keeps trending upwards, so that could change."
"And meanwhile?"
"Dawn, you and Rob are just amazing." Cory looks her in the eyes. "Rob will pay the mortgage next month if I need him to." He sighs. "This may be an insane, hopeless business model."
"You need more time to know whether that's true or not," she counters, wanting to encourage him. "We know how good Snoots is, the rest of the world just needs to catch on."
They continue their mid-week lunch at an outdoor table; the cafe's patio is packed with diners on the beautiful, sunny day. Cory is drinking a glass of wine, but Dawn is sticking with caffeine, an afternoon in the lab ahead of her.
As Dawn takes a bite of her salad, she sees sudden emotional devastation on Cory's face and turns to see what he's looking at. Becca and Derek Hammond are coming their way, apparently headed for a table closer to the edge of the patio's wall. Becca is wearing matchstick white jeans and red stiletto heels, her long hair ripples as she walks. She is being led by Derek, who has possessive hold of her hand.
Becca sees Cory now, and when she and Derek reach his table, she stops and tilts her head in a friendly way at him. "Hi."
Derek extends his free hand and Cory shakes it numbly. intensely disliking the guy's narcissistic self-confidence, his casual Euro look.
Derek smiles smoothly at Dawn. "Nice to see you. We just got back from Hong Kong. Intense week of meetings with our international partners."
Cory looks down at his food to conceal his reaction. Then he looks at Becca, trying to read her.
Becca probes him. "Are you still doing that visual object stuff?"
He looks directly in her eyes. "I've left high tech. For now."
She inclines her body slightly away from the table and closer to Derek. "That must give you a lot of time to explore...different things."
"Yeah."
She edges a bit further away, tossing her hair to one side and Cory can smell her violet perfume. She flashes one of her wood nymph smiles at him. "Well, good luck with everything."
Derek isn't quite ready to move on. He smiles in a breezy, confidential way at Cory. "I see you're a wine drinker; you should try the Casper Creek pinot noir here, they pour it by the glass. I don't really follow wine, but this pinot reminds me of one from an outstanding Tadpole Valley vintage. Amazing resemblance. Drink it now before everyone figures it out."
Derek puts himself into reverse now. "It's been a pleasure. We've got to grab a bite and bounce. I'm triple-booked for meetings."
He leads Becca to a table at the patio's edge where they sit close together.
Cory tries not to look at them, but isn't successful. His eyes keep returning to Becca's head, which is bending toward Derek's in an energetic gesture of familiarity and attraction.
"She looks happy," he finally remarks. There is real defeat in his voice.
"How can anyone tell? She's always like that. That smile."
Dawn continues with a dose of Derek derision. "The guy apparently reads Blind Tasting. That bit about Casper Creek was lifted straight off your blog."
"What a phony! Pretending he could discern a resemblance to that Carneros masterpiece. That was pure Snoots."
Dawn grimaces in empathy, wanting to fan this fire. Secretly she thinks the pretentious young entrepreneur is perfect for Becca. Cory is way too bright for Becca in her opinion. The girl's main draw is her extraordinary looks, and, unfortunately, she's done a number on him. Dawn envisions her best friend involved with a woman of...accomplishment.
She and Cory look out for each other, but try not to meddle in each other's love life. She's pretty sure he disapproved of the married neurosurgeon she fooled around with
in graduate school. He was forty-seven and it was never serious, but the relationship had entailed sneaking around on stolen weekends.
The thirty-eight-year-old research endocrinologist had been more of a problem. He wasn't married, but he became more serious than Dawn wanted. He turned up the dials right before her comprehensives so she fled to a friend's house in La Honda to get away from him while she studied for the exams. The endocrinologist made Cory's life miserable when Cory wouldn't disclose where she was. But, even after she successfully terminated the relationship, Cory never grumbled to her about the guy. He is just that kind of a friend, and she loves him like the brother she never had.
Cory's cellphone rings. "Hey Rob. What's up?"
He straightens up in his seat, his face now focusing on whatever Rob is telling him. "No shit. When did he call?"
Dawn looks over at him with growing interest.
"Can we give him an answer in a few days?" Excitement is replacing dejection on Cory's face. "Yeah, we need to figure this out. Okay, see you then."
His brown eyes focus on Dawn. "The winemaker at Two Ravens called Rob. Trella Winery in Napa is hosting a fund raiser, a blind tasting with some California wine judges. And they want me to participate as one of the blind tasters."
"Wow." She stares back at him.
"You know who Trella is? They don't need publicity from my blog, their wines are legendary. So why are they asking me?" He looks her straight in the eyes. "And what do we do?"
She shrugs. "We've always known Snoots would be the issue. It's happening faster than I could have imagined. But, Cory, that's called success."
"We need to decide something, Dawn. Soon."
"Want me to come by after work?"
"If you can spare the time, yeah, it would be great."
She nods and glances at her watch. "God! I'm late."
She gives Cory a wickedly sarcastic smile and delivers a passable imitation of Derek Hammond in a somewhat higher, feminine register. "I'm triple-booked for meetings; target-oriented synthesis, oncogene overexpression and cytoblot assays."
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