Experiences for Purchase

I’m just returning from three wonderful days in Napa, Calif. Having never been, I decided to tack the trip onto the back-end of a scheduled business trip to San Francisco. As usual, I had pre-planned each of the days to the fullest extent, utilizing recommendations from friends and the hotel concierge.

My companion and I started with a simple wine tasting. We pulled into the gravel driveway and walked along a path bordered with lush xeriscaping onto the porch of the vineyard tasting room. After wandering inside, being greeted immediately and reviewing our tasting options, we were taken back out onto the porch and seated at a high top overlooking the garden in the afternoon sun. We had a nice young man assigned to guide us through the numerous varietals that we explored. The ambience was so wonderful, the environment so transportive, that I was ready to pack the whole place up and bring it home with me.

It was here that we received our introductory lesson on wine clubs offered at many of these vineyards. What I later noticed to be a common theme for all of them: Wine clubs are typically based on a minimum number of bottles to be purchased each year – shipping costs varies and the tasting fee is waived for one or both of us, depending on the number of bottles bought. One of the advantage of joining the club is the exclusive access to certain reserve or propriety wines and special releases. As I sat immersed in the wonderful landscape with a broad view overlooking the expanse of Napa Valley, it was so very tempting to sign up and have a little slice of Napa sent to me in New Jersey on a quarterly basis. And this happened at each vineyard.

Luckily my companion had a cooler head and a higher tolerance for alcohol (as I lost the capacity to do the math after the third sample). His intervention prevented me from joining every wine club we encountered and/or amassing an assortment of bottled wines that I would have to figure out how to schlep back home. Much to the well-concealed chagrin of a succession of hosts, reason reigned.

The vineyards ranged from the very posh to the very simple. The people were all fabulous: friendly, unassuming, and most importantly, passionate about the wines. The tasting room of the vineyards on the second day was more on the basic side, but boasted the winning wine at the 1976 Paris wine competition that put Napa on the wine map and legitimized American winemaking. So what this vineyard lacked in the posh department, it made up for in authenticity. The place felt intently focused on the heritage of the wine production process in California and the craft of making magnificent wines, and not so much the actual experience of sampling the wine. But in an interesting twist, and taking full advantage of the active (and very early) harvest, the vineyard was offering grape stomping for a small upcharge. Now, that sounded too fun to pass up! After we finished our wines, we were directed out into the garden, where we stomped grapes in a barrel, and then stepped onto a blank T-shirt with purple feet fresh out of the barrel as a memento.

For our last day, I only planned one event. I figured it best to take it easy before heading home. But, unknowingly, I was also saving the best for last. I had signed us up for the Signature Tasting Experience at Round Pond Estate. This experience was designed to allow the visitor to see the vineyard’s full offering and get a peek into the spirit of the estate. We were driven around in a specially outfitted and lovingly restored 1941 Ford truck (with a Corvette engine). We had the pleasure of being joined by another couple, and the conversation fueled the experience through sharing.

As part of the tour, we went to the olive oil mill, and then the vinegar acetaia to learn about the process, understand a little bit about industry practices and what sets Round Pond apart. And, of course, there were tastings here, too. I had never drank olive oil before, but these were pretty delicious, and I now know just how beneficial for my health it is, as well.

From here, we walked through the vineyard to see the bee apiary. Our guide was very apologetic, as he informed us that there would not be a honey tasting, since the summer had been too hot and dry, which reduced the bee’s honey production – what little they had produced needed to remain in the hives to allow them to survive the winter. We all nodded in genuine understanding, because really, who would deprive a bee of its nourishment for the winter?

The grand finale of our tour was the kitchen’s garden, where we were treated to an alfresco lunch under a lightly vined arbor nestled in the heart of the garden, with the rooster calling from its nearby co-op every now and then, just to ensure we were aware of his presence. Here we lingered for a couple of hours, where no one hurried us and were encouraged to finish the wines on the table. It was the ultimate conclusion to a wonderful trio of days in Napa.

What Napa has managed to do as a region is brilliant. The vineyards live harmoniously together, with subtle and tasteful roadside signage announcing each location. The better vineyards have well-executed websites that raise your expectations and provide a preview of the personality that you will encounter on-site. Each vineyard has a distinct personality and point-of-view. Yes, all the products are for purchase, and most seem to be “limited-edition,” so the visitor feels the pressure of “here today, gone tomorrow,” but the impulse to buy comes from within the visitor, not from a sale pitch.

A trip to Napa Valley is a sensory journey, which affects the visitor on so many levels that it’s almost anathema to think that buying a tchotchke to sit on a shelf could be an adequate remembrance of the trip. There’s a deeper desire to be able to relive the experience – the tastes and smells – and be transported again through a sensory immersion that wraps you up like a warm towel fresh out of the dryer. With this, I can understand the need for the clubs – more for the customer than the vineyard – because just buying a bottle won’t do it; one needs regular doses to maintain the experience.

The experience is the introduction to a lifestyle, and once experienced through such powerful immersion, it’s too difficult to let go. The lesson here is the authenticity of the experience, the universal appeal, and the scalability of application to each consumer’s life. No real sales pitch is required by the vineyard, because once the passion is transferred, the customer sells themselves on the product. It’s true, I did not join any clubs, nor did I buy anything to bring home, but I’ll be on all of their websites this weekend.

Kathleen Jordan, AIA, CID, LEED AP, is a principal in Gensler’s New York office, and a leader of its retail practice with over 24 years of experience across the United States and internationally. Jordan has led a broad range of retail design projects as both an outside consultant and as an in-house designer. She has led projects from merchandising and design development all the way through construction documentation and administration, and many of her projects have earned national and international design awards. Contact her at kathleen_jordan@gensler.com.