Robert Mondavi

It’s no secret that Robert Mondavi was larger than life and the Napa Valley’s greatest booster. His remarkable foresight, drive and ambition unquestionably made significant contributions to the fame and growth of this small winegrowing region of Northern California. His life was legendary, filled with more than a little scandal and gossip, envy and troubles along with great success.

I first met him around 1972, give or take a year. His winery was new – the first new winery to be built in Napa since Prohibition, and the subject of much talk. I worked in San Francisco for Honig, Cooper & Harrington, the largest ad agency in the City at the time, with major clients such as The Clorox Company and Levi-Strauss. I was a lowly secretary in the media department, but I happened to be dating one of the account managers at Clorox and thus became the only non-executive to attend a famed annual event. Each year after the media planning was completed for the coming year, the agency hosted the Clorox execs for a bash. In the year in question, they piled us all on a big tour bus and drove us to the fledgling Robert Mondavi Winery for dinner.

When we arrived, we were met personally by Robert, who greeted us with his characteristic warmth, poured us some wine, chatted a bit then took us on a personally-guided tour of the new facility. There was no action in the winery on a Saturday evening, but we followed catwalks and saw all there was to see, with Robert filling us in on all the details. Back in the dinner area music played, hors d’oeuvres were served and much Robert Mondavi wine was tasted. The big surprise came when we sat down for dinner. I have no memory of what food was served, other than that it was very good, but I remember some of the wines.

At some point during hors d’oeuvres we were served some Hans Kornell Champagne. As we tasted and enjoyed, Hans Kornell himself talked to us about his cellars and his wines. At the table, a different wine was served with each course, and while I don’t remember them specifically, at least 2 or 3 were Mondavi wines, including a wonderful cabernet, and as each was poured Robert spoke to us about that wine. I know there was at least one other winery and winemaker involved, and I’m sorry I don’t remember who it was. The dinner closed with some Christian Brothers Brandy, presented by none other than Brother Timothy himself. Thus was my introduction to the Napa Valley from the inside.

In 1979 I moved to the Valley and during the course of my seven years in the wine industry I encountered Robert often. He and his wife, Margrit, were always the soul of gracious kindness and courtesy and when they spoke to you, they were speaking to you, focused on you alone. We met at parties, at various Napa Wine Auction events, tastings, a private dinner-in-the vineyards hosted by the Mondavi Winery honoring a visiting Spanish winegrower, and a very special evening with a select guest list honoring the handsome young heir apparent of the Biondi-Santi winery in Italy. You may never have heard of this small company, but in any given year their best wines will hit the market at a higher price than say, Romanee-Conti or Chateau Lafite Rothschild. Their Brunello Riserva is cherished, and without doubt the best red wine I have ever tasted. But, that’s a story for a different day.

During the years between my first visit in 1972 and the time I moved away from Napa in 1986, Robert’s winery grew by leaps and bounds, became a virtual beehive of activity, a world-wide center of wine and food and hospitality. It bore little resemblance to the quiet, empty place where we spent that magical evening, although of course the iconic mission-style front stayed the same.

The last time I saw Robert was several years ago when I was visiting the Valley. I drove north out of Napa into the valley and just as I left the edge of town I spotted a familiar bow-legged figure walking along the side of the road, thumbing a ride. It took a moment for my brain to process what I saw, then I pulled over immediately, but not soon enough. Another car had stopped right behind me, closer. He was in his 80’s at the time, and I’ll never know why this giant of the local wine industry was hitching a ride along Highway 29, but I’m sure there would have been a good story to hear if I’d just been a few seconds faster. When he died last year I shed a tear or two, then went out and bought a bottle of his best Cabernet and drank a silent toast to honor this extraordinary man known around the world as Robert Mondavi. We called him Bob.

Magic

There was magic in the air that night.  You might say it was merely a gathering of friends and neighbors in a pretty room to taste some very nice wines, and you would be right.  But it was more than that.  The friends and neighbors were the finest vintners in the Napa Valley; the pretty room was the elegant grand hall at the Far Niente Winery; the very nice wines were a dazzling selection of rare and precious burgundies from the remarkable cellars of the House of Leroy.  Oh, yes.  Madame Lalou Bize-Leroy, her husband Marcel and her daughter Perrine were also included in the friends and neighbors, for although their home is France, they are friends tied by a common bond of winemaking.

There was a murmur of quiet anticipation in the Hall as the guests arrived and joined the crowd.  Madame Leroy was in the cellars, with her wines.  The treasures.  She had brought with her 25 red and white burgundies, from a youthful 1978 Meursault to the last flight -- a 1949 Musigny and a 1949 Richebourg.

A formal white cloth had been laid the length of the great hall, each place carefully set with arcs of glasses.  When everyone was seated and the preliminaries finished, the first wines were poured while Madame Leroy presented a slide show of the vineyards and towns where the wines were grown.  She spoke in French, for she was nervous with this group and unsure of her English.  Her words were translated as she spoke, as she tasted each of the wines in their turn and offered her own opinions of them.

Magic is the only word for it.  The energy of the event spilled electrically through the room holding all in its spell.  The spell of being present at such a momentous affair, not really earthshaking on the surface yet momentous, nonetheless.

Around 1982. Written then.