Levi Dalton
Levi Dalton
The way I heard it, in the early days the gentleman would visit the sushi restaurant, a small place on Rodeo Drive, quite often. He would sit at the bar, and slowly, politely, ask for another piece, and then another. It was only later that he started to phone his orders in. Truth be told, Taisho, as we called the chef, vastly didn't like and usually wouldn't do take out orders, but - and this is true to this day - he would do anything for a regular. And this gentleman that we are talking about never winced at a large check. So take out would be allowed. For him.
It was after the first few visits that Taisho asked the man if he wasn't in movies? It was common for the Hollywood types to find their way to this little spot for a meal. Studio heads, usually, and their chosen favorites of the day. And so it wasn't implausible that this rather rotund, older gentleman might be involved with the motion picture industry. Wasn't he? Good movies? Taisho had imigrated from Japan as an adult ("to play golf," as he would explain), and was still unsure of his English. But aren't "You from Tennessee New Ohleen? Aren't you Mahwron Blando?"
No, No, a chuckle, and a small smile, the man was not Marlon Brando. But thank you, thank you. No, I am me, he said. And then he asked quite nicely if he might have the Nigi Toro roll.
It was the driver who gave him away, much later. Arriving for the latest takeout meal, "Is Mr. Brando's order ready?" he wanted to know. "Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwhhhhhhhh, So!!!!!!" Taisho says each time he gets to this part of story. "Bwando. He was plivate style - and then a pause for emphasis - plivate style."
It seemed like the highest compliment. Maybe it is: private style.
I wonder now how marketing will take place. Really, I do. How will the word get out? So much of the last two decades was spent fostering lifestyle affiliations and placements. And cultivating both a sort of critic and a sort of tourist who may now, in all likelihood, cease to be as relevant as they once were - if they even exist. What should the California wine industry do? How should they go about convincing people outside of their state to drink their wine? Domestic sales seem stagnant in this corner of the country (nyc). I can't remember the last big time Manhattan opening where the restaurant proudly held forth their cellared selections of California wines. It wasn't always like this. Remember the Four Seasons and their California Barrel Tasting Dinners?
I personally cut my teeth on California Cabernet. I remember how much I used to like BV Georges de Latour. I had the 2005 recently: bug juice. The fans of those wines do seem loyal, but really, how many are there anymore?
I wonder if the California wineries aren't about to suffer a "Lost Decade" of backwards growth and stagnation the likes of which they haven't seen since Prohibition.
Sometimes I am saddened by the loss of wineries like Havens. But more often I cast a sad eye at the loss of wineries like Ridge. Why couldn't they stay "just me," I wonder sometimes? Was the pressure to oak and jam it up really that strong? Anyway, the tide has turned.
Who buys the wines anymore? Who will?
It was after the first few visits that Taisho asked the man if he wasn't in movies? It was common for the Hollywood types to find their way to this little spot for a meal. Studio heads, usually, and their chosen favorites of the day. And so it wasn't implausible that this rather rotund, older gentleman might be involved with the motion picture industry. Wasn't he? Good movies? Taisho had imigrated from Japan as an adult ("to play golf," as he would explain), and was still unsure of his English. But aren't "You from Tennessee New Ohleen? Aren't you Mahwron Blando?"
No, No, a chuckle, and a small smile, the man was not Marlon Brando. But thank you, thank you. No, I am me, he said. And then he asked quite nicely if he might have the Nigi Toro roll.
It was the driver who gave him away, much later. Arriving for the latest takeout meal, "Is Mr. Brando's order ready?" he wanted to know. "Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwhhhhhhhh, So!!!!!!" Taisho says each time he gets to this part of story. "Bwando. He was plivate style - and then a pause for emphasis - plivate style."
It seemed like the highest compliment. Maybe it is: private style.
I wonder now how marketing will take place. Really, I do. How will the word get out? So much of the last two decades was spent fostering lifestyle affiliations and placements. And cultivating both a sort of critic and a sort of tourist who may now, in all likelihood, cease to be as relevant as they once were - if they even exist. What should the California wine industry do? How should they go about convincing people outside of their state to drink their wine? Domestic sales seem stagnant in this corner of the country (nyc). I can't remember the last big time Manhattan opening where the restaurant proudly held forth their cellared selections of California wines. It wasn't always like this. Remember the Four Seasons and their California Barrel Tasting Dinners?
I personally cut my teeth on California Cabernet. I remember how much I used to like BV Georges de Latour. I had the 2005 recently: bug juice. The fans of those wines do seem loyal, but really, how many are there anymore?
I wonder if the California wineries aren't about to suffer a "Lost Decade" of backwards growth and stagnation the likes of which they haven't seen since Prohibition.
Sometimes I am saddened by the loss of wineries like Havens. But more often I cast a sad eye at the loss of wineries like Ridge. Why couldn't they stay "just me," I wonder sometimes? Was the pressure to oak and jam it up really that strong? Anyway, the tide has turned.
Who buys the wines anymore? Who will?
