Clara's Holistic Therapeutics Center. The room is a shop with racks and bins of bottles and vials of aromatic oils, liquids, powders and various artifacts. Incense and candles are also on display along with decks of Tarot cards and books on Eastern metaphysics. Toby peruses the assortment of things with moderate curiosity and greater amusement. The cat rubs against his leg and he reaches down to stroke it.
A woman in her late thirties enters the room through a beaded curtain. She exudes casual libido and is wearing a peasant blouse over jeans and her hair is tied in a blue kerchief. She's wearing large gold hoop earrings, many bracelets on her wrist, and some sort of amulet around her neck. Her features are attractive, but the skin of her face is a little drawn, a little wrinkled from too much exposure to the sun.
"I'm Clara. How can I help you?"
"I'm looking for a kind of musk oil. With skunk. Not too concentrated, though."
"Nocturnal animals. Sure, I have those. Homeopathic concentrations and organic extractions. What is your need?"
"My need?"
"Do you suffer from backaches? Headaches? Are you emotionally stressed?"
"What does the skunk do?"
"The skunk has the nocturnal forces, the power of the moon. The moon is calming for the nervous system."
She looks at him questioningly, waiting for an answer.
He's already sized her up, he needs to give her something. "Maybe the organic extraction. Is it stronger?"
She nods and walks to a set of shelves against the far wall. She searches through several rows of bottles and selects one of the small vials. She walks back to Toby and casts her head sideways, smiling at him invitingly.
He imagines she gives good massages.
She moves closer, holding the vial of colorless liquid. "Take five drops three times a day mixed with branch water. I can sell you some."
He points at the vial. "Can I smell it?"
She laughs. "Sure. It won't smell like a skunk, though. It's an extraction."
She hands him the vial and he opens it, holding it to his nose for a sniff. It smells like water. Okay, it's not too strong, but maybe not strong enough.
He squats down and calls to the cat, who is sitting nearby watching him with curious yellow eyes. The cat approaches and extends its nose tentatively toward the vial. It yowls and runs off. He stands up, smiling.
Clara shakes her head at him. "That extraction is only for people." She looks at him in sudden seriousness. "You will use this only for good, right?"
Toby puts a drop of the extraction on his finger and tastes it, startled. He didn't expect the strong note, given the lack of scent.
He knows she's staring at him, no longer sure this is okay. He smiles broadly, gazing warmly at her with his dark, masculine eyes. "Only for good."
It has the desired effect. She saunters away to fetch a bottle of branch water. As she rings up his purchases at an ancient cash register, she tells him, "We have spiritual poetry readings on Friday nights. You are welcome to come."
"Thanks. Maybe sometime."
Clara hands him his package of skunk extract and branch water. She makes sustained hand and eye contact. "Peace." He nods.
He's happy to be out of there, heading toward his vineyards again. The woman was a trip. A cute ass, but what sort of new-age drivel would he have to listen to afterward?
He laughs to himself as he presses down on the accelerator, feeling the Ferrari surge forward, twenty miles above the speed limit. He remembers to turn on his radar detector.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Trella Tasting Room. "Leonard will sit here and the Taster here. It'll make a nice setup for the photographers," Joe tells his two assistants, pointing at the long polished bar.
Today's blind tasting, an exclusive three-hundred-dollars-a-head event within the prestigious four-day auction, is completely sold out and Joe is now concerned there will be crashers.
"Has catering arrived?" he asks one of the assistants who is now setting up small tables. The assistant looks at him. "Not yet."
"Better check with Linda and see if she needs help."
As the assistant disappears through a door behind the bar to check with Linda, the front door of the tasting room opens and Toby walks in, wearing jeans and a dark-red silk shirt. He's carrying a bottle of wine in each hand. Joe sees him and smiles, beckoning him over.
Toby holds up the bottles. "Here's the late harvest zinfandel. One for the tasting. One for you to enjoy."
Joe takes one of the bottles and gives it an admiring look. "You're a damn good vintner, Toby. Your grandfather would be proud of you."
Toby looks Joe in the eyes. "I am proud of this one. Let me say hello to Linda. She's back here?"
Joe nods, taking out his cellphone to answer an incoming call.
Toby walks behind the bar and through the door that leads into the service area, carrying the other bottle of his newly-bottled late harvest zinfandel.
Linda is a tall woman in her mid-fifties with silver hair done up in a French twist. She looks elegant in her matching blue-gray silk pants and blouse, even rushing around with a dozen culinary details on her mind. She smiles warmly at Toby. "I'm so glad you decided to participate today."
They exchange kisses on the cheek, not air kisses, real ones.
"Need help?" he asks her. He's counting on the fact that she will. It's why he came this early.
"Probably." She turns to the first assistant. "Are we ready to open the wines?"
The assistant nods.
The second assistant appears at the door. "Catering just arrived."
Linda turns to the first assistant. "Come help me now. Then we'll open them."
A stunning opportunity not to be wasted.
Toby gestures at the row of wine bottles. "Want me to? Here's your tenth entry." He holds up his late harvest zinfandel.
"You're an angel. Thanks."
She gestures toward the bottles. "These are the first five, those are the second." Then she darts out of the room, both assistants following her.
Toby begins to uncork the first five wines selected for today's tasting. There will be two flights of wine, both red. He thinks it will only be necessary to address the first flight. They include a Dark Moon '07 Russian River pinot noir and an '05 merlot from Raptors Rise, Carneros. The third entry is an elegant '04 cabernet sauvignon from Sente, a premier Napa winery whose vintner is a known perfectionist. And here is Todd French's '05 meritage. Toby doesn't mind that Todd's wine is in this batch. An '04 petite sirah from Black Falcon completes the first flight. Toby's own late harvest will be included in the second flight. It won't touch the glasses he's setting up now.
Where are the glasses that Linda is using for this tasting? He needs to get this right. He spots a tray set up with ten large tulip-shaped crystal wine glasses. Five for Leonard Pillar and five for Cory-the-Taster.
Toby glances at the door. He reaches into the front pocket of his jeans and pulls out a tiny vial, his new-age nocturnal animal extraction.
The first assistant suddenly appears in the doorway and Toby immediately encloses the vial in his hand, pretending to be examining the labels on the open wine bottles. His heart is pounding.
The assistant hunts for something, picks up two ceramic trivets and leaves again. No time to waste.
Quickly, Toby opens the little vial. He works with calm concentration -- no time to panic or think about failure. He places three droplets from the vial into each of five glasses on the tray, an extra dribble falls into the middle glass. No matter. He corks the vial and returns it to his pocket. Then he carefully picks up the tray and carries it into the tasting room.
The second assistant is setting up a chair and stand in one corner for a musician. Toby walks to the end of the bar and addresses him in a casual, relaxed tone. "Where are you seating Pillar?"
The assistant gestures to a seat along the bar and Toby sets out the five wine glasses that have not been contaminated with droplets from his vial. He looks up
at the assistant. "And the Taster?"
The assistant points to a farther seat just around the corner from the first setting. Toby places the droplet-tainted glasses in a row there. The droplets are now dried and invisible.
Mission accomplished. Toby, with a sense of relieved satisfaction, wanders back to the service room to see whether his help is needed further. Linda has returned.
Chapter Fifty
"That's the guy!" a willowy blonde whispers to her tall companion as she points to Cory being led by Snoots through the front entrance.
Snoots pushes forward through the crush of chic, affluent people, who are each holding a glass of red or white wine. The mellifluous notes of a classical guitar float festively from a corner of the room amid the happy din of conversation.
The mood is boisterous after a morning and lunch already spent elsewhere in Napa at elegant wine and food functions. The energy of the place is focused on a spot at the bar where Leonard Pillar is sitting, surrounded by friends and acquaintances from the wine world.
Leonard is one of the only people here without a glass of wine in his hand at the moment; he looks comfortable in a black crew-neck sweater and gray slacks, chatting amiably with Joe Trella and Saul Miller. Toby, Todd French and several other winemakers are standing nearby, looking on.
Joe breaks away from the elite gathering to greet Dawn and Cory. He makes the important introduction. "Leonard, let me introduce the Taster, the blogger of Blind Tasting."
Joe steps aside to let Cory approach Leonard, who extends his hand to Cory and connects in a hearty handshake. "Real pleasure."
Leonard Pillar.
"It's an honor to meet you," Cory replies. "I've subscribed to your newsletter for years."
Leonard laughs good-naturedly. "And I've been following yours. Very nice call on that 2005 Dry Creek merlot from Balistreri. They were new to me. Too many people are shunning merlot these days. It can be a remarkable wine in the right hands."
Leonard reaches down to pet Snoots, who has pressed his head forward, tail up and wagging. Focusing on the dog is a way to shed some of his own nervousness, which he rarely experiences. But, he is startled by the intelligence, the quiet poise, of the young Taster. Is he about to go head-to-head with an unprecedented talent here?
Cory turns to acknowledge Todd French when Todd taps him on the shoulder. Cory then covertly notices Julie standing behind Todd. Her beauty and sophistication grab him anew. Today she's wearing jeans and a white blouse, and her red hair falls loosely around her face.
She's been observing him, too, happy that he's here with Dawn and not Becca. She moves forward to identify herself to him and clasps his arm. "It's Julie. I'm just a spectator today."
In fact, she, Denis and Saul had been part of a morning wine symposium at another Napa winery and were invited by Joe to drop in on his event gratis, given that they are all good friends of Leonard Pillar.
Joe, who is thinking ahead to this evening's silent auction scheduled in Rutherford, turns to Leonard. "We should probably begin, if you gentlemen are ready."
Leonard smiles, giving an easy shrug that conceals an inner tension. He takes the initiative and leads Cory toward the seats where the glasses for them are already set up. He continues their previous conversation. "There are some very interesting small wineries up in the Okanagan Valley whose products aren't distributed outside of British Columbia."
The assistant behind the bar tries to catch Leonard's attention, indicating he should take the seat closer to the crowd. But, Leonard is focused on talking to Cory and continues around the corner of the bar. He pulls the closer seat back for Cory, inviting him to sit there.
"Mr. Pillar, I think they wanted you here for the pictures," the assistant comments, remembering what his boss told him.
Leonard waves his hand casually, dismissively. "This is fine, no?" He reassures the worried assistant with a broad smile. "I'll hold my glass up high."
He looks more seriously at the assistant. "No pictures until after the tasting, remember?" The assistant nods deferentially.
Cory sits down on the near stool and that's that.
Toby sees the situation from across the room. If he were watching his own winery burning up in flames he might possibly feel worse.
Joe is now behind the bar and taps a spoon against a glass; the guitarist stops playing and the talking subsides.
"Welcome, everyone, to this historic event within our gala Auction Wine Country weekend. I hope everyone has been enjoying the excellent wines that are being poured at the various venues and the wonderful food from the many talented local chefs in the region."
Happy applause.
"We are delighted to see you here at our own special wine tasting, and I want to thank all of you personally for your generous contribution to this particular event this afternoon, whose entire proceeds will benefit a number of worthwhile charities in the area. In recognition of your generosity, we have with us today the most recognized and respected wine critic in the world -- Leonard Pillar."
Joe sweeps his arm toward Leonard. There is a burst of applause and loud cheers. He waits until it subsides before continuing. "Leonard has very graciously agreed to make this extraordinary, first-ever public appearance as a blind taster. Our wines today are local to Napa and Sonoma, but, in compliance with his exacting standards of impartiality and his great personal integrity, no wines from Trella are represented in these selections today. Are you happy so far, Leonard?" Joe calls out in a friendly tone.
Leonard smiles. "No promotions, Joe. You're doing fine."
More appreciative laughter from the crowd.
Joe nods. "And, if you attended our blind tasting last month, you will recognize the Taster of Blind Tasting, the wine blog that's been creating such a stir." Joe indicates Cory with a flourish of his hand.
Another burst of hearty applause.
"We're following a similar format to that tasting. Today, we're pouring two flights of five red wines, ten in all. Vintages are from 2004 on. The name of the game is to guess the varietal, the region, the vintage, the producer, the vineyard. We don't expect much, do we?"
More laughter ripples through the crowd.
"Seriously, though, it is a rare opportunity for all of us to observe a true master" -- Joe points toward Leonard -- "and, may I say, a new master" -- Joe points toward Cory -- "at work, engaged in a most difficult undertaking. Out of consideration for this, I would ask that our photographers refrain from taking pictures while the wine masters are at work."
Enthusiastic applause.
Joe has the crowd beautifully focused. "After the tasting, all of you are cordially invited to enjoy refreshments on the terrace. Yountville's own Gold Foundry with chef Gil Thomas has put together a wonderful spread for us."
This news brings further applause and some 'oohs' and 'aahs'. The Gold Foundry is legendary.
Cory covertly activates his electronics during Joe's speech. The assistant behind the bar is now pouring wine into the first flight of five glasses. The five bottles are wrapped in plain brown paper. No labels.
Leonard picks up his left-most glass and swirls the wine skillfully, purposefully. It's the gesture of a man whose hand has swirled tens of thousands of such glasses. He holds the bowl up to his famous nose for a sniff. Then he tries it, holding the wine within his mouth, circulating it, sucking it gently across his palate. He then spits the mouthful of wine expertly into a silver bucket.
He looks puzzled and emits a small sigh before offering his first impression. "I think this is a gamay noir, really hard to say. Not a typical Napa varietal, that's for certain. Striking tart mouth with metallic notes, very unusual finish."
Cory is swirling and tasting the first wine. He dips the thumb of his left hand over the rim of the glass and performs the now well-practiced finger moves with Snoots.
Toby is watching him intently.
Snoots doesn't press any activation point on either sneaker, but Cory is damn sure the wine is not a gamay noir.
But, he'll just have to wing it.
"I'm guessing this is a pinot noir. It's a young wine." It's a wild guess, but he thinks it's not as crazy as Leonard Pillar's call.
Leonard swirls and sniffs the second glass. He frowns in concentration as he analyzes the liquid rolling across his tongue. He turns a little to address the assembled crowd. "Odd. There are notes of, strange notes of...musk. A musky mourvedre."
Leonard shifts on his seat, a little unsettled at this point.
Cory employs his index finger to obtain the sample. He receives information from Snoots:
05 merlot cajun carn
He takes a little time before calling it. "This is predominately a merlot, I'd narrow it down to '05, but the producer is harder. Probably from Carneros. Cenote and Cajun come to mind."
Joe and Denis exchange a private look, this young guy is damn close with one sip. Cenote is up the road from Raptor's Rise, the actual offering in the glass.
Leonard looks at Cory with a concerned, almost irritated expression. "Where are you getting that? This is not a merlot. Where is the chocolate, the coffee, the lush softness? This wine has a gamey spice on the finish."
Cory doesn't understand how Leonard Pillar can be so off on these wines. Does the guy never do blind tastings, even in private? That's not possible. Something is wrong. Just keep going.
He picks up the third glass, swirls, sniffs, and offers Snoots his middle finger. Snoots detects a hit:
04 sente cab-sauv. 98 pp
He thinks it's possible this is an exact match. He'll call it that way. "A cabernet sauvignon. The fruit is big, balanced. It's a great Napa done in the Bordeaux style. I'd say very likely the 2004 vintage from, probably Sente."
Leonard picks up the third glass, swirling and sniffing its contents. A smile crosses his face; he likes the nose and it's something familiar, too. He takes a sip and coughs. He spits the wine into the bucket and puts the glass down hard with a ringing clank.
Blind Tasting Page 26