“1979: Chile, the wine challenge
It gives me great pleasure to join you today in thanking you sincerely for your warm welcome and admission to the Académie Internationale du Vin. My name is Joseph Puig, I am 60 years old and, like my ancestors, I dedicate my entire life to viticulture, the production, distribution and sale of this noble product. I sometimes think it’s the wine and not the blood that runs through my veins… And I’m delighted and happy about it. Maybe that’s why I’m here today, because I understand wine in a very comprehensive, global and democratic way; maybe also very anarchistic at the same time, so in the end, the noble product is fortunately quite free and teaches us in every harvest, in every vinification many new things and sensations that we didn’t know before.
It’s always him who keeps us going and going in our profession; we’ll never be able to catch him, he’ll always be ahead of us to show us a new path to follow, each time different. It’s precisely this independence and rebellion in wine that always compels me to try to be wiser and to follow each year with more passion than ever the path opened up long ago by my great-grandfather, as Jean Paul Gardère, former manager of Château Latour, used to tell me. Wine is passion and function; if you take away the passion, you become a civil servant. It’s absolutely essential to avoid this situation. The little story that follows is also part of this shared passion, which has caused me a great deal of suffering, but which has also taught me a great deal about the dynamics and positive situations surrounding the international heritage of wine.
When I arrived in Chile a long time ago, I wondered, as a matter of principle, whether I’d stay there much longer or leave soon. When I got back, I saw a rather old-fashioned situation, because the winegrowing structure I’d heard of as modern didn’t exist at all: no temperature control, no new wood, neither French nor American, no innovative spirit, a lot of chauvinism of course, and above all a winegrowing social culture that was deeply rooted, ancient and far from questioning. To tell you that when I imported stainless steel, the Central Bank of Chile had to create a new code, and for wood (the last time they swallowed imported new wood was 25 years ago. They also had to create a new epigraph). I still remember that in winter, when the hail came, we’d run through the night to light up the piles of old tires to form artificial clouds and prevent the sun’s harmful penetration of the grapes.
Only the great pre-phylloxera vineyards were there, superb and proud like the real “carabineros” of the old general’s time. Seeing all this panorama and doing a little reflection, I’m absolutely sure that it was these grape varieties that won me over. It was time to decide whether to stay or go. Despite having suffered a lot socially, with problems of integration and different habits and customs, I can say that, fortunately, I stayed for 5 years and only left when the company had consolidated its self-financing. 1979 was a time of difficult challenges for me. My time in Chile had a major impact on my life, my way of doing things and, above all, my personality.
After setting foot in Chile, everything seemed to be going against me: the language, the civilization, the culture, the dictatorship. But worst of all were the infrastructure drawbacks. It was December 1979 and the harvest was almost here, the steel vats to finish blending and the facilities not ready and not meeting basic needs. The neighboring winemakers looked at us as if we were from another planet; they came over, looked around and asked questions: “Oh, aluminum tanks…”, they said. “How much does that cost per liter?” “A dollar or so,” I replied. “A dollar? Here in concrete it’s 0.10 centimes and no taste of aluminum in wines like yours… We think, Monsieur, that you made a mistake in coming to Chile… And what’s more, we don’t like your wines at all! Do you know that the important Spanish houses A and B have also been here to do the same thing as you? Do you know how long they’ve been in Chile? Guess, guess, less than two years… Ah and they had a lot of money.”
More gloom to add: when the fresh, fantastic, temperature-controlled Sauvignon Blanc was finished, my fellow competitors would taste it, and comment, “What’s this? This wine reminds us, excuse me, of horse pee! That’s nothing at all, just taste it and take a leaf out of Las Enclnas wine, the best white wine in Chile, which goes very well with everything, but especially with oysters! I admit that I was impressed by these words and I was afraid of everything, but tasting it at the first opportunity, I burst out laughing inside, because I found their wine oxidized, a kind of sherry, without personality, impossible to marry with food; maybe as a dessert. My next question was this: “Maybe they’re right, why am I here?” After a little thought, I came up with the answer: because there’s a lot to be done here in the field of winemaking. On the other hand, I didn’t travel 10,000 km from home to make the same wine they produce. For better or for worse, I was there. I may or may not succeed, but I had to keep going and work hard with all the tenacity I could muster.
I thought: “If I make a different wine, the sale must be different too, more in line with my wine”. But it wasn’t easy, because as I said before, the culture was different. I started selling the new wine in places where it would be little appreciated and accepted, places frequented by European people and customers. Embassies, country clubs, international hotels, Spanish clubs, European restaurants and so on. A tiny bit of sunshine was beginning to take a positive shape, but it wasn’t enough to sustain a 100-hectare, 300,000-bottle operation. I once wondered whether I’d still have wines in stock when I retired! But alas! One day I woke up feeling more positive than ever. The idea of convincing customers seemed perfect, but why not convince the competition at the same time? I had a good feeling.
I developed this idea and started visiting the country’s leading wineries. They immediately understood that without technology, exporting to compete with other European or American wines would be very difficult, especially for white wines. At the time, I remember well, they hardly exported whites. The reds were exported well, but the old wood (rauli) was not the most ideal for making top-of-the-range wines. They knew perfectly well that by incorporating new French or American wood, they could improve their products. And to my good fortune and satisfaction, they started importing winemaking technologies, one after the other, non-stop. Now, Chilean wines, white and red, have succeeded and deserve great international prestige, recognized the world over.
That’s how the Torres operation, a pioneer of modern viticulture in Chile, began to succeed. If more people made the same style of wine, it would be much easier to change the consumer’s wine culture. Everyone, all at the same time, was a winner: producers, distributors and above all consumers, who began to drink fresh, light, well-structured wines with personality. On the other hand, this same friendly competition was unwittingly giving us free publicity. Customers and consumers commented: Look, Concha y Toro, Santa Carolina (examples) also make a wine like Torres. It’s not bad at all. It’s not hard to get used to. As I said earlier, I’m sure we’ve also brought to the country different sales ideas, also fresher, less heavy, with more personality and character, such as the new wines.
No publicity at all, but thanks to our novelty, several press articles were written about us (journalists found us a great source of information: pioneers, innovators, etc.). We invented sommelier visits to our cellars, I did tastings in restaurants at the time of service; we organized introductory courses in gastronomic culture for sommeliers, we created a wine club, published a wine bulletin, etc. We were also the first to publish a wine newsletter. The competition thought we were crazy, but in the end they followed our strategies very closely. From nothing, and almost unwittingly, the Torres operation opened up a great and interminable economic path for other winegrowers interested in the Chilean challenge, pre-phylloxera and the great future. Fortunately, others have followed suit.
Of all my internships in Chile, I have to admit that the most difficult part was selling and distributing the new product, given the cultural differences in consumer habits. But then again, anything is possible in this life. There are easier situations, more complicated situations, faster situations, slower situations, but in the end it’s like everything else, you just have to understand and practice a few formulas that I consider very important: know where you are and adapt to all possible circumstances. Agree a coherent program of action. Apply intelligence and know-how. Be patient: life doesn’t end today (this was my favorite expression). Be tenacious: don’t change your goal! You have to get there. Be humble, especially when it comes to selling. That’s the most important thing, because everyone knows it. And never forget that the best wine salesman has much to learn and little to teach. He will only teach by learning. Always, even if you’re selling other things that are less successful.