Robert Mondavi remembered

The passing of Robert Mondavi a few weeks ago brought to me a time for quiet reflection. His death signaled the passing of arguably one of the great personalities — possibly the greatest personality — on the American fine wine scene.

The result of his enthusiasm, personal charm (he had charm by the buckets) and understanding of his place in the history of California wine making while he was living was amazing; wine would never be the same, people's perception of wine would never be the same and wine making would evolve to breathtaking levels in his lifetime.

He was one of the few people who knew he was creating wine history while he was doing it and he never let people forget that he was the sorcerer behind the scenes tapping the wand against the barrel. Mr. Mondavi was also a near-perfect showman who could flatter one while making himself or his winery look good at the same time. Here is a personal experience I will share with you to illuminate what I am saying:

My stepfather and I were invited by Mr. Mondavi to a very serious wine competition being held at the Robert Mondavi winery in the late 1970s. We were there with more than 100 fine wine professionals from all over California to judge his 1973 Robert Mondavi reserve Cabernet Sauvignon against the best wines of the same vintage from Bordeaux, France.

There were the great wine names from established wineries at the competition, as well from the finest restaurants, wine shops and very well known wine writers — all of whom were asked to blind judge (not knowing which wine was in which glass) these six phenomenal wines.

For some reason, probably because I was easily the youngest person in the foyer, I was stuck in the very back of the room at a card table by myself while all of the "luminaries" sat at long tables murdering about the wines, sipping and spitting into large, stainless steel buckets on the tables and taking notes.

Before me at my little card table was the same setup, but I was very alone and proceeded to taste the wines by myself without the benefit (even though these things are supposed to be silent judgings) of any input by the conoscenti at the other tables. At the end of the judging I wanted to use the rest room so I got up from the table and took a hard right around the corner to the men's room.

When I went back to my table, turning the corner, there sat Mr. Mondavi at my table; he had found a folding chair and pulled it next to mine! He then introduced himself to me and virtually ignored folks walking by wanting to talk to him.

Mr. Mondavi saw my scorecard, nodded, then went on a non-stop litany about the future of the wine business and what a "wonderful thing" it was that I had taken the time to visit the winery and to visit him as well as what "youth" had to offer to the future of this business. I was dumbfounded that this man would take the time to come to my little corner of the world and speak his mind to me about the wine business.

When the time came (all expectations and eyes were on the tally), the Mondavi wine came in third of six, which was a resounding success for such a young winery against Bordeaux's best. At length, he asked folks to stand and give their impressions of the wines, as well as the competition. I sat way back and listened to the pros. Then, as if choreographed, he asked me to stand for the "youth vote" and give the hall my impressions.

What?! What was he asking me to do?!

I stood and gave some sort of forgetful, shaky and uninspired one-minute-or-so impression that I am sure no one noticed. But he did ask me in front of all assembled which wine I thought was the best.

I had written down the Robert Mondavi wine, which I admitted to the entire chamber. Mr. Mondavi smiled, having killed two birds with one stone, giving the kid a chance in the spotlight and making me say that I thought his wine was the best. I think this is what this gentleman did the best: assuming the win-win game and doing it better than anyone I ever met.

When Mr. Mondavi died those weeks ago, a little bit of my youth went with him. I think he would have liked that.