Nine Suns:

A blindingly white common egret stands still, hunting in the blue shallows of Lake Hennessey as I round a corner, and head up Long Ranch Road. When I was a kid, my brother and I would spend long summer days fishing off the shoreline of Hennessey, catching mostly smallmouth bass and blue gill. Back then, the countryside surrounding the lake seemed unassuming; dotted with oak trees, manzanitas, and grazing cattle. The occasional grand homes were well hidden behind imposing metal gates. 

Today, Lake Hennessey is perhaps dwarfed in notoriety by Pritchard Hill, the neighborhood that towers above it, often referred to as Napa’s Grand Cru. Rising from 800 to 1,800 feet above sea level, Pritchard Hill might more appropriately be called a mountain.  The wineries of this tony neighborhood read like a who’s who of coveted American wines: Bryant Family, Colgin, Brand, Gandona, Continuum, Ovid. Ascending Long Ranch Road, vineyards come forward in relief against a bright summer sky. With verasion under way, the occasional light purple cluster catches the eye.  The road is circuitous, necessitating a slow approach. Soon, a sign carved in the image of a Houyi, a fabled Chinese archer for whom the Houyi Vineyard is named, appears, signaling the eastern boundary of the Nine Suns estate. I am now at about 1,300 feet above sea level and the view of the valley below is expansive, august, breathtaking. 

I’ve arrived early in anticipation of a full day with Becker and Touquette. We’ve decided to start our day on Pritchard Hill, and later, we’ll descend the valley and visit their estate on Wappo Hill, in the Stag’s Leap District.

When I ask Becker what the new name of the estate will be, he answers, “Nine Suns.” He says it matter-of-factly, but must read some confusion on my face, adding, “we like to keep the names of places we’ve acquired. It’s how we honor their legacies; the people who came before us. The idea is to respect the past, while putting our fingerprint on the present.” Becker, 44, is self-assured, yet ruminative. In profile, he resembles a young Chevy Chase, though he is decidedly more reserved. Having served in the US Airforce for five years where he was stationed in Afghanistan, Becker retains a more formal, military bearing. Touquette, 46, and a native of Bordeaux, is the more jovial of the two. Tall and rangy, wearing a bucket hat to protect his bald pate from the summer sun, he is energetic, open. His good humor and easy smile belie an exacting, driven winemaker. His resume includes successful stints at Screaming Eagle, Ovid, and Dalla Valle. 

We hop in a souped-up golfcart-like vineyard vehicle and explore Houyi. Comprised primarily of dense volcanic rock, the soils themselves appear inhospitable, but the volcanic loam has proven over time to provide just the right amount of stress to the vines, resulting in small, intensely flavored berries. Since January, Touquette has been devoting his time to making small adjustments in the vineyard. “We don’t want to change anything on a dime. We are playing the long game. This will be a lifelong journey of trial and error,” he says. “We dug 21 pits to assess the soils.”  Piles of large volcanic rocks lay about here and there. Because rocks may not be removed from the mountain, they are instead crushed and redispersed

 They’re currently rehabilitating the irrigation system and revisiting irrigation strategies. “We are precise. Conservative.” Because of advanced satellite mapping, they can farm the vineyard vine by vine, quite literally. “We can control vigor,” he says, sounding like a bonsai practitioner. Touquette points out a few vines that are struggling at the end of one vineyard row. Their canopy lacks some vitality.  “These need a little more attention. Some help. More care,” he tells me. 

Famed vineyard manager, David Abreu, assists with vineyard management at the Pritchard Hill estate. As we round one dramatic vista after another, Touquette points out the cult wine producers that surround us on all sides. Make no mistake, though, Realm--- with wines highly coveted by collectors and wine geeks alike, and with prices ranging from $75.00 (Fidelio) to 650.00 (The Absurd) upon release---transcends the cult imprimatur. 

Cult wine producers are deliberate from inception regarding their brand positioning: their shared aspirations are to be rarefied, collected, available to a small, elite audience, aligned with the wealthy and status conscious. Cult brands are well-financed from the get-go, with deep pockets allocating funds to all areas of brand development, including marketing, design, hospitality, farming, enology---you name it. Whatever it takes to become desired by many, obtainable by a few. 

Realm, on the other hand, began as a bootstrapper brand in the early aughts. By 2011, mounting debt and bills nearly brought the enterprise to its knees. The next couple of years were touch and go, and then, in October of 2014, two Realm wines---their Dr. Crane designate and The Absurd---both received 100 points from The Wine Advocate, and from there, the tides began to turn for the relatively nascent brand. From there, sales began to be pushes, rather than pulls. 

“Wine quality comes first. Wines of place. We are here not for the lifestyle, but to cultivate fine wine,” Touquette says. Becker adds, “What is hard earned is easily lost.” Realm, like Napa Valley producers MACDONALD, Jasud, Detert and a handful of others, are making upmarket fine wines. Their portfolio prices reflect high fruit- and production-costs, robust consumer demand, and a savvy understanding of luxury branding. These producers did not set out to be cult producers. Instead, having found success among discerning wine lovers, they’ve developed a keen understanding of their position among serious collectors, and they’re navigating these waters in unprecedented ways. The Realm collection of wines, for example, includes Fidelio: $75, Tempest: $110, Bard: $120, Falstaff: $185, Farella: $185, Bourn: $225, Houyi: $235, To Kalon: $250, Moonracer: $250, Dr. Crane: $300 and Absurd: $650. It’s a broad range of price points. While it’s possible to find fine wines at relatively affordable prices, it would be anathema to the very existence of cult wines to find one that is affordable, much less available. 

After touring the vineyard, we enter the production facility to cool off. “We apply the same protocols across our properties,” Becker says, as we enter their immaculate, tidy crush pad. Touquette adds, “At SLD (Stag’s Leap District facility), all the hoses are wound the same way as here. All the glycol handles point in the same direction. We want our team to move between both estates easily, paying attention to the details, so everything is the right. Correct.” Indeed, like Chef Thomas Keller’s infamous, exacting neon green tape used for labeling items in his kitchens, and never allowed to appear askew, every detail at both estates receives attention. Focus. “The way you do one thing is how you do everything,” Becker adds, quoting a popular adage.  Touquette stops at a bank of barrels, their bungs not centered, but justified in an extreme angle. He wraps his long arms around the face of a barrel. “There is less evaporation this way. Less of a need to top off. Less disturbing of the wines.” 

Stag’s Leap District: Camp Victor and The Whiskey Hotel

In 2015, when Touquette and Becker were considering purchasing what was then known as the Hartwell Estate Vineyards, in the Stag’s Leap District off of Napa Valley’s popular Silverado Trail, they’d often discuss their options over meals taken at local restaurants. To ensure their interest remained at the time confidential, they referred to Hartwell as the Whiskey Hotel, a fictional name bearing the same initials as the hill upon which their dream property at the time sat: Wappo Hill. The name stuck. 

Today, upon driving up Wappo Hill onto the Realm SLD estate, signposts point to the Whiskey Hotel (offices) and Camp Victor (winery building).  Camp Victor’s name was inspired by the “V” in the landscape that forms the nearby Palisades, and an artist whose art appears in the winery. “The building names exist for clarity of communication,” Becker says, as we pass a striking statue at the Whiskey Hotel’s entry way:  two men, one standing atop the shoulders of the other. When I ask him about it, Becker says, “That’s to remind us that we’re standing on the shoulders of giants.”

Touquette joins us as we make our way through the remainder of the winery, eventually reaching a room where we’ll taste through a few wines. Touquette explains that, although the grapes they work with are primarily Bordeaux varieties, his approach to winemaking is distinctly Burgundian. “What’s important?” he asks, answering his own question. “Preserving freshness. My approach is reductive. I want to shape texture, manage the tannins. I am careful to monitor extraction. I never want to go too far. I use low-temperature fermentations. It’s how you respect the place.”  

A light lunch is served with our wine tasting. The intention seems to be to put these wines to work; present them within their preferred milieu; at the table. Each wine is refreshingly different from the other, showing its birthplace. What is consistent throughout the collection is the Realm house-style; finesse, textural elegance and a compelling structure.  

Supper: 

Later that evening, we meet up at Torc. We are joined by Eden Foley, Realm’s Chief of Staff. Becker brings a few wines from his cellar at home, including a 2008 Rayas. It’s not one of the more celebrated vintages from this benchmark producer, but it’s singing this evening. This is my first time at this downtown Napa restaurant, but I’ll return for their special of the night; a whole chicken roasted in an iron skillet, served with fries dusted with American Sumac sourced in New Jersey. Though I have yet to come across a better roasted chicken dish than the late, great Judy Rodgers’ created at San Francisco’s Zuni restaurant, this one comes in at a close second. 

After a few more corks are popped, I ask Becker and Touquette what Napa means to them. Touquette answers quickly and passionately. “It’s the sense of community. The connections we have here with others. The sense of place. We live here so it matters to us. This is where we are raising our children.” Becker is more measured. “I’ don’t know yet,” he says. “It’s changing. We probably resonate more with the pioneers. Jack Cakebread. Frank Farella. We’re a little bit of a throwback. We’re not backed by institutional capital,” he adds, citing the recent sale of Napa Valley icons Shafer and Phelps to large, global corporate entities. "We aren’t family owned, either. It’s us---friends----and a small group of investors. For me and Benoit, it’s a passion and a livelihood versus just a business project.” 

Are they surprised by their success? Becker says, “Yes and no. Yes, in that we never take it for granted. No, in that it’s exactly what we set out to do. We’ve always wanted people to be moved by their experience of Realm.”

How do they feel their success has been received by their colleagues? Touquette grows suddenly solemn, “In 2011, when we got awful scores, I got a lot of texts. ‘Sorry man.’ That kind of thing. When we bought Hartwell and then Nine Suns, there were fewer texts. A lot of the calls just stopped.” Touquette looks down at his plate. Becker adds, as if trying to sustain the previously positive mood, “We don’t listen to the noise.” 

Becker pours us the 2019 The Absurd. Touquette buries his nose into the glass. We all take a long moment to smell it. It’s a beauty. “Not bad,” Touquette finally says. The 2019 is dedicated to former Realm customer, Scott Canepa. “He was larger than life. Crazy, generous. But so gentle. He was number #86 on our mailing list. I will never forget that.” His voice trails off. We all go quiet when he suddenly begins weeping. He’s wiping his eyes, but the poignancy of whatever he’s feeling won’t leave him. “Sorry,” he says.

Becker, with the assistance of Foley, continues the story. When Canepa’s ashes were to be interned, they tell me, his family requested they be placed inside an empty bottle of Realm. The Realm team worked closely with the internment service staff, providing them with a hand-painted rendering of The Absurd label on an empty jeroboam of Realm. After a time, Touquette rejoins the conversation. “His family was happy with it.”

Realm wines are coveted on the secondary market and are often sought out by collectors. How do they feel about their wines being sought out by an historically discerning group? “As long as they drink them, you know?” Touquette says. “I love watches.” He grabs hold of the watch he’s wearing. “I collect watches. I have beautiful ones. I wear them. Why buy a watch and never wear it? Just to keep it in the box in a drawer. No, they are meant to be enjoyed. Same with beautiful wines. If you pay attention to a wine, it can change your life in that moment.” 

We end our dinner with a glass of champagne. “It’s a house rule,” Becker tells me. “We don’t go out as a team that often, but when we do, we always start with a glass of champagne and end with a glass of champagne.” After bidding my goodbyes, I head out into a warm, summer night. The businesses surrounding us are shuttered for the night, their storefronts dark. My brother pulls up to the curb. I’ve been staying with him while working on this story and he kindly agrees to pick me up. On the way back to his place, our childhood home, located just a few miles as the crow flies from the Whiskey Hotel, I tell him all about my adventures at Realm. We continue our talk over a couple of cold beers well into the night.