Original publication: Pécsi borozó - 2022.09.02.
Written by: Dániel Ercsey
Photos: Etyeki Kúria - Péter Szőke
Sándor started from a small village along the Sajó, then ended up in Budapest’s vineyard garden via Gyöngyös, California, Eger, and Tuscany. We spoke with Merész Sándor.
– Everyone knows the wines of Etyeki Kúria, but relatively little is known about you. For example, I don’t even know where you were born!
– I was born in Vadna, in the Sajó valley, not far from Kazincbarcika. Today, it’s far from any wine region, but even in my childhood, there were wild vineyards on the hill. Perhaps the order of the world is trying to reset itself so that Ágnes Herczeg, born in nearby Dédestapolcsány, and the late Tibor Gál from Putnok, if God takes away the vineyard, compensate with experts.
– Which wine region did Vadna belong to back then?
– The vineyards of Gömör extended this far, and in fact, this formed a region with areas now belonging to Slovakia. In my childhood, we used to visit relatives in Rimaszombat, where at that time the state cellar farm and vineyards along the Sajó still existed. None of that remains today. But I’m not sad because the world changes. A cousin of mine and her husband moved back from Pest to Vadna, planted a hectare of vineyard, and the wines can already be tasted, so there is a way back from nothing along the Sajó as well!
– This conversation should be about you, but what you’re saying is very exciting! What areas did Vadna include?
– There were backyard vineyards during socialism, but before that, they took it seriously enough to carve terraces into the limestone for the vineyards in the 19th century. In neighboring Sajókaza, the Radvánszky barons were involved in wine production; there was an industrial rail line built to the cellar, from where the wine was transported abroad by train in tank cars. Of course, it wasn’t just the wine that was interesting here; the library of the Sajókaza castle held the only Renaissance-era original handwritten poetry book of Bálint Balassi.
– What was it like growing up in Vadna? How long did you live there?
– It’s a small Reformed village with 600 people. Everyone knows everyone; for example, they tried to keep the school open even then, despite the low number of children, by having split classes with two grades in one room. This was the case in the lower grades, and later I attended school in Kazincbarcika and completed agricultural technical school in Putnok. So, I lived in Vadna until I was 19, and my fondest memories are tied to this place.
– What did your parents do for a living?
– I would rather start with my grandparents; my grandfather had vineyards in Dubicsány, Sajókaza, and Vadna, and in the latter, he even had two plots, so vineyards were important to them, although by my childhood, mostly only direct-producing plantations could be found.
– Why did you start the list with your grandparents?
I grew up in the old world; my parents worked, and the grandparents were at home—they raised us with discipline and life lessons. They gave me and my sibling the tools for life and critical thinking, passing down the turbulent history of the 20th century. My maternal great-great-grandfather, József Szabó, born in 1873, was a well-traveled man. Since the turn of the century was a tough time for rural peasants, he went to America to try his luck. He worked in mines and industrial sites, sending money home, which was used to buy land and a house. They managed well, and by the time he returned for good, he was considered a wealthier farmer. This phenomenon is actually the subject of Imre Oravecz’s novel trilogy, The Children of the Soil. My great-grandfather went to work abroad three times and returned three times. The first time he bought land for those who stayed home to work. The second time, a house; the third time, some machinery. When we looked him up on Ellis Island (where the immigration office operated), we even found that on his second trip, he traveled aboard the legendary RMS Carpathia.
– It must be exciting to grow up among the stories of such a great-grandfather.
– Of course! Seven children were raised by my great-grandmother, including my grandmother, and the descendants—the children and grandchildren of the seven siblings—keep in touch. We get together and organize a huge family reunion every year in Vadna; even the fourth cousins know each other. We start by filling the Vadna Reformed Church with about one hundred and forty people, then the eating, drinking, and chatting begin.
– Let’s turn back a bit to Vadna. After you finished the mechanical technical school in Putnok, what did you do?
– I was heading to Nyíregyháza, where they trained aircraft mechanics at the time. I fell in love with crop-dusting helicopters and was determined to pilot one. Of course, I wasn’t accepted, but based on my grades, I got into the Gyöngyös College without an entrance exam. I didn’t mind because several of my friends went there, so during the last summer break before college, we decided that one of us would become an ornamental horticulturist. In our minds, we pictured the baron’s ornamental garden’s white-gloved gardener transplanting geraniums, so I quickly forgot about helicopters. When we arrived in Gyöngyös, it turned out there was no ornamental horticulture program, so I became a general gardener. You could specialize with your thesis topic, choosing between vegetables, fruits, and grapes. The head of the vegetable department was a strange character, so I stuck with fruits and grapes. Lajos Szőke was appointed head of the viticulture department then, and he played a role in us ending up there.
– Was this already the legendary class of Hungarian winemaking?
– No, at that time only Gabi Rakaczki (the chief winemaker of Sauska Tokaj - ed.) was with me; we paused our studies half a year before the final exam to spend a whole year just learning languages. When we picked up again a year later, we met Zsolti Liptai (chief winemaker of Pannonhalma Archabbey - ed.) and Sanyi Zsurki (Tokaj winemaker who is also the chief winemaker at Villa Pátzay in Badacsony - ed.). We graduated together with them, and then the postgraduate viticulture and winemaking program started immediately, where that legendary team came together, joined by Tomi Magyar, Jócó Ádám, Márk Egly, István Ipacs Szabó, and Karcsi Erdélyi. The college only required that the program would start with 22 applicants, so we began recruiting at our regular spot, the Nosztalgia bar in Gyöngyös. You can imagine!
– Was it obvious that you would be the great winemakers of the future?
– No way! (laughs) The only goal was to stay students for one more year and avoid having to go to work! Of course, the one-year training program was motivating too, full of domestic and international practicals, tastings, and cellar visits, so we never got bored! We started with a harvest, then went on an Austrian tour that literally blew our minds. In the mid-90s, it was the first time we realized there was another way to do this, unlike at Egervin. That’s when the team first drank pálinka that we didn’t want to run away from crying. Then came the German tour, followed by a bigger trip to Italy, and after that, it was clear that this was what we wanted to do.
– I know you worked abroad too, but I don’t know how you ended up there.
– We came across an advertisement about the opportunity to apply for a study trip abroad, fully funded by the Ministry of Agriculture. Pista (referring to István Ipacs Szabó - ed.) and I immediately got on the bus and headed to the Ministry! Our final exams were at the end of July, and by August 10th, we were already in California, where, of course, things didn’t turn out at all as we had imagined.
– What happened next?
– We ended up in the northern part of the state, at one of Kendall-Jackson’s large processing wineries, Vinwood Cellars. Pista and I arrived for the harvest, each with 400 dollars in our pockets, thinking it would be enough. We felt like kings of life! Our life there started with a conference where a hundred like-minded young winemakers from all over the world gathered; we visited wineries, drank, talked for three days, and almost all our money was gone. But we thought that after the conference, the wineries would call us and we could start working. Then, on the third day of the party, the organizers dropped a bunch of classified ads on the table, telling everyone to rent an apartment and buy a car. We just looked at each other, Ipacc and I, wondering how on earth we were supposed to afford that?!
– It didn’t start well…
– The continuation was even worse! We had just enough money for the two of us to rent a room for a week, then on our first workday, we took a bus toward the winery, but from the last bus stop, we still had to walk six kilometers to the cellar. People were surprised when they found out how we ended up there! In the end, we barely made it to our first paycheck without starving; Pista lost ten kilos in two weeks, I lost sixteen. In the beginning, we took on everything—overtime, night shifts—just to get back on our feet.
– Was America all about hardships for you?
– At first, yes, but later we were able to travel, taste a lot, and I still benefit from the professionalism of the winery. It was a huge winery with a well-structured hierarchy. At the beginning, we joined a team doing “körfejtés,” which meant we worked 12 hours a day doing this, and at the end, we handed over the whole place disinfected to the night shift. Then, when the work ended, we still had two months left on our visa, so we didn’t come home but went down to Florida for the orange harvest.
– How were you received at home?
– I came home full of confidence, thinking I already knew everything, had seen the world, so I just had to pick from the offers. That’s not how it happened. After three months, I called Pista to see what was going on with him. Same situation, meaning nothing. So we decided to try the American scholarship again! By then, Gabi Rakaczki had joined us, so we found ourselves back in America in 1998 after 1997.
– How did this story turn into a continuation in Eger?
– Thanks to Tibor Gál! Tibor and I had a special shared past, our grandfathers fought through the war together and came home from captivity together, and they were from the same village, as I mentioned at the beginning. Our parents also knew each other, so when my father met him, he told him, "The kid is studying to be a winemaker," and Tibor sent word that when I graduated, I should call him. After we couldn’t find a job following the first trip to America, I called him; I remember he had a broken leg, probably some horrific football injury, so we talked in the hospital in Eger and he offered me a job. I even wanted to cancel the second trip to America, but he wouldn’t let me, saying I should go and after that, my place would be waiting for me. And so it was, from early 1999 I worked at GIA under Tibor Gál.
– What kind of person was Tibor Gál?
– He was a tough guy, not the "teacher type," we worked with him on the principle of adapt or leave, but he threw me straight into the deep end, taught me to take responsibility, which was a good lesson. I remember in 2001 he called me and asked if I wanted to work in Italy. I started stammering that I was interested but needed to discuss it with my family and think it over. He said, "Okay, take your time, I'll call you back in ten minutes!" (laughs) Of course, I said yes, a few weeks later he took me to Tuscany, we met the Pellegrini family, they didn’t speak English, I didn’t speak Italian, but Tibor spoke, they smiled a lot, then we shook hands. When we got back to Eger, Tibor sent me off saying it would be good to learn Italian since I’d be starting in Tuscany in two weeks.
– Did it work out?
– Not really, the two weeks of intensive study only served to make me realize that the Italian language has nothing to do with English. But there was nothing to do, in two weeks I had a meeting arranged with Tibor in Tuscany, he took me through the vineyards, showed me the cellar where the masons were still smoothing the concrete under the tanks, then casually said in the vineyard that the harvest would start here tomorrow! And it did, Tibor and I watched as the first batch of grapes arrived, as the destemming started, then he slapped me on the shoulder and said, "I'll come back in a month, don't screw it up!", got in the car and left. And I was left there with two cellar workers, a 45-hectare estate, and a 15,000-hectare commercial cellar, while literally all I knew in Italian was bon giorno and vino rosso.
– Which winery was this?
– At Aia Vecchia in Bolgheri. Besides our own wines, we also bought and blended wines, which were later purchased by partners like Banfi or Antinori. For example, I made novello (young wine) there for the first time, using carbonic maceration. Italians are quite relaxed, tough businessmen, but they don’t take life too seriously. The owner asked us if we had ever made wine that way before. Tibor and I said yes, and he said there’s a market for it now, so let’s make 500 hectares for him tomorrow. That’s how things went there…
– I thought the Tuscan estates were all about top-quality wines.
– You have to make a living somehow! There are huge cooperative cellars in Italy, and we visited them all; that’s where we bought the wines that we then blended in our own cellar and sold on. These wines formed the base wines for many famous wineries. That was the cash flow. The real enjoyment came from the cellar in Bolgheri.
– How long were you in Italy?
– For four years. By the end, I was really exhausted; by then, I was responsible for several wineries, and the workload was enormous. I developed a stomach ulcer from working 16-18 hours a day, and I felt I had to come home. I told Tibor as well, and he didn’t mind; there were plenty of places where people were needed. He was doing exactly what I was, just on a much larger scale. There was the Eger cellar, the Nagygombos winery, the Pannonhalma Archabbey winemaking project was starting, he managed the Antinori estate in Bátaapáti, gave consulting to the Heimann family, had a project in Tokaj, one in South Africa, several in Tuscany, and at that time a new investment was starting in Kárásztelke, Romania. He was also considering an estate in Croatia and, I believe, one in Piedmont as well. If this didn’t make it clear, I’ll say it outright: Tibor Gál was insanely busy at that time! It was planned that Andris Kőszeli (the head winemaker of Jackfall - ed.) would take my place, but life had other plans; Tibor died in a tragic car accident in South Africa.
– How did your life develop after that?
– After Tibor’s death, I came home; in 2005 I was already managing the harvest in Eger, and that year I also got married. Before that, we lived together in Italy for a year, so I was sure my fiancée knew exactly what a winemaker’s life is about.
– It was quite a chaotic time in Eger, wasn’t it?
– Yes, I eventually left the Eger cellar too, I simply couldn’t make a living there, I had to change. In times like this, we first reach out to the old team; I called Pista (Ipacs Szabó - ed.), to see if he knew anything, and he said that the brother of the Vylyan owner was looking for someone in Etyek, so that’s how I ended up at Kálmán Debreczeni’s winery. It was called Debreczeni-Ferenczi cellar, they had a rented cellar in Budafok, 16 hectares of vineyards in Etyek, and another six hectares in Szekszárd. I worked there from 2006 to 2009, we got the cellar on track, then I got a call…
– Is this already the precursor to the Etyeki Kúria period?
– Absolutely! In the fall of 2008, a headhunter company called me saying they were looking for a winemaker, there were several rounds of interviews, and finally I met with Sára Matolcsy and her team, and in 2009 I was already harvesting in Etyek.
– Just like that, quick and easy?
– I don't know what was going on in their heads, but even then, for example, Laci Babarczi was here, and after I reviewed the estate, I told him that this whole concept is not viable; this much wine at this price won't sustain the estate. I think they liked that too, because they sat me down and outlined their future plans. In 2010, we already started planning the winery building and had the Sopron areas, but back then they still wanted to market those in Austria. Fortunately, the owners have continued to look for people for positions, so every area has a person responsible who knows their specialty best. The team is great, it’s a pleasure to work here every day!
– So far it seems you have found your place in life, but if you weren't a winemaker, what would you like to do?
– Honestly? I can't imagine that. I am as much in my place as a person can be. I am grateful to life that it turned out this way!
