Reflections on a Summer at Robert Mondavi Winery

By now you’ve heard many heartfelt reflections on the passing of Robert Mondavi, from those who have known him well over the years. But what about those who started drinking wine after Robert had left his impact? When the maverick had already convinced the world that fine wines could be made in California?

One of my first meaningful wine experiences was during a summer I spent giving tours at the flagship vineyard in Oakville, Napa Valley. I felt his influence pervading through everything we did. At that time Robert was 89 (I was there for the big 90th soiree) and the vineyard was still family owned. These were some of the last few, precious moments that the family had, with complete ownership of the empire that Robert had nurtured. I didn’t realize this at the time, of course.

On my first day I discovered Robert’s absolute dedication to education. I started training for an unspecified job, with fifteen other students, learning everything from canopy management to rootstocks and of course, memorizing their many brands and their significance (he was a business man after all). I honestly had no idea what I’d be doing, but I figured my alphabetizing skills might come in handy. Did it matter if I knew what a cordon spur training system was? Not really, but that was Robert’s way. Every new employee went through the same rigorous training process whether cellar sprayer or secretary. In the end, I did end up using this knowledge feverishly, when they asked me to lead tours, rather than doing that clerical job I’d signed up for.

Educating Americans on wine was always important to him, so I wasn’t surprised to see it playing out in his business. But how many other businessmen would take a week of their employees’ time to educate them on skills they might never use on the job? To say that Robert Mondavi was unique, is a gross understatement. We spent a week, trapsing around the vineyard with gigantic white binders with pages and pages of information to learn. And boy, were there quizzes! I’ll remind you that I was merely 21 years old, by far the youngest person going through this process, and the whole thing was quite intimidating. But in the end, I came out of it with a love for wine and a thirst for knowledge. Of course, growing up with my parents, wine was always a part of our lives, but no matter what your parents do, there’s always a teenager in you, dying to reject it.

When I reflect on Robert Mondavi and my summer spent at the vineyard, I think of one word: perseverance. It wasn’t easy for him to convince the world that fine wine could be made in California. As you can imagine, he heard the word “no” from restaurants and nonbelievers, time and time again. It takes a certain steadfast belief in your own principles, to push on even when others disagree. It takes perseverance to stand outside on highway 29 and flag down passing cars so that you can invite them in for a taste of fine Napa Valley wine. It takes perseverance to convince people of the value of using a week of people’s time for the sole purpose of education, the cost of which may never be redeemed. Robert persevered in everything from his job, to his social life. The story of his courtship of Margrit though, is for another time.

We all have something to learn from the passing of Robert Mondavi, whether we are 21 or 71 and that is to trust your own instincts and persevere, ignoring what naysayers may cross your path.

Filed under Wine Legends | Comments (2)

The Twilight Years, With Wine

A guest post by Adam Strum.

The mere act of sharing a bottle brings a measure of comfort and joy to members of The Greatest Generation

Up until a few years ago, the dinners at The Fountains at Millbrook retirement community in New York had been a somber and sedate affair. The 60 residents would arrive at precisely 5 pm. The seating plan, menus and social rituals had become, understandably, routine. It was the social highlight of the day, yet there was a formality and predictability to the dinner hour that could become wearisome.

Then, a new arrival at The Fountains, a charismatic, well-dressed and vigorous octogenarian, began entering the dining room most nights toting a cane in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. One night it might be a Tuscan red, the next night a Zinfandel from California, the next a crisp Sancerre. Heads would slowly yet eagerly swivel to see what she had brought that night.

For many of these senior citizens, fine wine is a revelation. During their youth, as they coped with the Depression, if there was wine at the dinner table, it would have been undistinguished jug wine. As they matured and dealt with the deprivations and tragedies of World War II, stepping up to the bar meant a beer, a shot of whiskey or some other hard concoction. The drinks of their day were the martini, gin and tonic, Tom Collins and Manhattan, not Meursault and Merlot.

But to the residents of The Fountains, just as their world was shrinking, a whole new world of flavors, textures and conviviality opened. This spunky, well-spoken old lady started sharing modest pours of a variety of quality bottles, introducing many of her new friends to the pleasures of the vine. What had formerly been a quiet dining hall was now alive with banter about wine types, laughter and shared memories.

Her name was Gertie, but they called her “the wine lady.” In a matter of months her influence had become so pervasive that many of the tables in the dining room already had their own uncorked bottles in place by the time she arrived for dinner—residents began acquiring their own bottles, often by asking relatives to bring some wine when they visited. Furthermore, Gertie organized a wine club of sorts which she dubbed the Fountains’ “OWLS,” or Old Wine Lover’s Society. Members met once a week and each participant brought a bottle; they enjoyed discussing the virtues and nuances of the various wines.

It didn’t take too many glasses of wine to establish Gertie as the most popular dining companion at The Fountains. Almost every day she received a phone call from one resident or another inquiring as to her availability for dinner that evening. And it didn’t stop with the residents; the kitchen and wait staff would hover around her table, knowing that out of kindness she would make sure to save a taste for each and every one of them before the evening was through.

This introduction of wine changed the attitudes and lives of many of the members of this community by adding simple, delicious pleasure, helping to forge new social bonds, awakening memories of good times gone by and perhaps in some instances, numbing the pain of aging.

Wine is in a special position to do so. There’s nothing wrong with the whiskies, white spirits, beers and cocktails that this generation is identified with. But wine is about the dinner table, not the local bar. It’s about family and food. For Gertie to place a Brunello in the center of the table for everyone to enjoy said something completely different than if she’d placed a bottle of whiskey. Enjoying a sip or two with dinner gave residents an option, permission, if you will, that they might not have had otherwise, given the medical therapies many were on.

Even for this proud generation of Americans who built a great nation and defended it with their lives, who were some of the last remaining parents of today’s “baby boomers,” it was not too late to learn about the pleasures of wine. All it took was one passionate wine enthusiast to influence and bring happiness to all of those around her.

The members of what was deemed the “Greatest Generation” (in the superb book by Tom Brokaw) were united by a common purpose and common values, many of which have been lost today—duty, honor, economy, courage, service, love of family and country and above all, responsibility for oneself. We can still learn a lot from them, even as they leave the stage.

In Loving Memory of Gertrude M. Strum
August 9, 1920 — July 25, 2007

Stay tuned for “The Twilight Years, With Wine” as my Dad’s column in the October issue of Wine Enthusiast Magazine

Filed under Wine Legends | Comment (1)

Ernest Gallo Dies at 97

It is a sad time in the world of wine as Ernest Gallo, one of the most influential pioneers of the wine industry in America, passed away yesterday at the age of 97. After the repeal of prohibition in1933, when Americans were drinking anything but wine, Ernest and his brother Julio (who has since passed) saw tremendous opportunity for wine in the United States and started a winery in California’s central coast. They borrowed a bit of money and invested in creating mass market jug wines to please the American palate. The Gallo family is often credited with laying the seeds for America to become a wine drinking nation, while Robert Mondavi (who is approaching Ernest’s age) proved that Californa soil can not only produce wine, it can make wines of the same caliber as those from France and Italy.

These days the Gallo family is one of the largest wine makers in the world and Ernest Gallo is one of Forbes’ 400 richest Americans. I have a special place in my heart and connection to the Gallo family as my Father got his start in the wine industry by selling Gallo wines as a door-to-door wine salesman when he was my age exactly (23 years old). Ernest Gallo has certainly left his mark on the wine industry and he will truly be missed.

In case you missed the link, please check out my father’s thoughts on the passing of Ernest Gallo

Filed under Wine Legends | Comment (1)