Wine Lives

By Paul Alexandro

Fascinating story about an exceptional hero, a bottle of wine.


Experience the progression of the wine making process while sharing the intimacy of the people surrounding it. Be transported through a journey full of excitement and passion sharing a single mission, the evolution of a bottle of wine.



Wine Lives!

It is a living organism.
It is in contact with unique individuals through the creation process.
Lives affect the final product.

Wine Lives embracing each stage.

You are invited to enter the life these characters, their experiences and corroborate how they affect the wine, while the wine affects them.



Based on a true story. The story of a humble man that purchased a winery and converted it into a successful business model.



Learn about every procedure of the art of wine making. Learn its history.



You will be emerged in each phase. Experience the harvesting, share the winemakers feelings during fermentation, watch the aging process, live the bottling and labeling procedure and accompany the owner on a journey of creating an unborn product.



A unique experience. A book unlike any other.


You will learn about wine.

You will share wine lives.

You will witness how wine lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Nov 12, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452021201

Paul Alexandro

Paul Alexandro was born in Manhattan, New York in 1972, the first son of Jacinto and Paula Jaure. Soon after birth, his parents moved to Argentina’s wine country in the province of Mendoza. His youngest and only brother, David was born three years later. He attended elementary and middle school in Mendoza. His childhood spare time was spent at the Andino Golf course where he sculptured a promising golf career. In 1986 his father drastically decided to move to America in search of a professional golfing career for his two sons. Paul graduated from South Plantation High School in Plantation, Florida as the top ranked golfer. A merit rewarded with a full golf scholarship to Florida International University. After deciding golf was not his chosen life path, he followed a repressed dream. The passion for acting resulted in a Theater degree as well as a Psychology degree from F.I.U. At the same time, he graduated college with a varsity golf letter for each year attended. Immediately after school he starred in a comedy series for ten years at Univision Television Network. Simultaneously, he assisted his father and brother in building a succession of golf stores in the Miami area called, Miami Golf. In addition, the dream of owning a winery became a reality in the year 2000 with the purchase of Jaure Winery. An owner, a wine connoisseur, an expert in the field, and a successful businessman. This is Paul’s first novel. An idea he had outlined in his head for years.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The first rays of sunlight emerge on the eastern Mendoza horizon, hitting the snow-topped Andes Mountains, making them shimmer in a brilliant silver reflection, illuminating the ready-to-harvest Tupungato valley vineyards. The Cordón del Plata, which means silver belt, was the name given to this impressive strip of gleaming snow by the natives. The prominent Andes mountain range imposes a decisive influence on Argentina’s climate, especially on Mendoza’s grape growing valley.

Argentina is situated at the southern tip of South America. The geographical amplitude and ecological characteristics of this mountain-locked valley provide a perfect environment to produce magnificent organic fruit. Sprinkled by the dawn’s dew, showing an impressive reddish-purple hue while soaking the morning’s first rays, the Malbec grape shines.

Due to its very high altitude approximately 5,000 feet above sea level, the region’s oenological uniqueness provides an ideal environment for traditional wine making techniques. Low humidity and little rainfall are ideal conditions that account for the good quality and health of any grape varietal, natural and free from pesticide residues.

As the sun rises, the vineyard’s diverse emerald tones cluster in the valley like an enormous sea of green. The fifty-acre plantation seems to roll off the last mountain chain and disappear into the horizon.

Every sixty-year-old planted vine is individually held to a quebracho, a wooden post set approximately three feet distant from the following plant in a perfectly symmetric straight line. Each row is approximately 328 feet in length and includes forty-five grape vines trained to climb and spread on a system of wires. The Tupungato Alexa Valley vineyard has one hundred such rows with a total of 225,000 blossoming Malbec grape clusters covering the fifty acre land.

A graceful, bloomed Pink Promise rose adorns the beginning of the row adjacent to a humble adobe home that is still hiding in the shadows of a majestic alamo tree. An identical rose plant rises in front of each of the five hundred lines—one beautiful, thriving flower next to the other, congregating to serve a higher purpose. Roses are most vulnerable to pest infections and would give the agronomic engineer a fair amount of time to find a cure before the microorganism attacks the precious vineyards. A lone rose bush is planted in front of each long line of vines to protect the entire row. If a single petal shows signs of disease, the caretaker will have ample time to save the entire plantation. The protector of the vines has only one mission: to assist the growth of an all-perfect grape cluster. Seventy-five perfectly round individual grapes forming a cohesive assortment, collectively capable of transforming into a single glass of wine. Four clusters uniting to immortalize their essence, transcending to become the ultimate prize, a single bottle of wine.

The autumn sun filters through the imperfect adobe window and plays on the bare clay floor. Pedro’s sleek face is half lit. The sunlight slowly crawls up his dark skin until it reaches his closed black eyes. He quickly covers them with an old flattened pillow. Cecilia is still sleeping by his side, wrapping him with her olive-toned arms, still contending with the cold night. The old cast-iron heater’s fire is now fueled by sluggish charcoal. Shivers run across her uncovered, smooth, long legs. Her beauty is discrete, a natural splendor enhanced by wide, mystical eyes and long, undulating black hair, reminiscent of a clear Mendoza night.

Pedro’s father handcrafted their bed as a wedding gift from a single trunk of alamo wood. Above it hangs an oversize wooden crucifix. An old flowered sheet is suspended from the cane ceiling, separating the bed from a worn, small wooden table. A propane gas heater cornered on a minuscule counter is considered the kitchen. Their exposed clothes are neatly folded on stilted shelves; a family photo and a native Mendoza tapestry are pinned on the adobe walls.

As the young couple lie in bed, there is a special vibe in the air, a stimulating feeling that comes around only once a year. Pedro jumps out of bed ecstatically, stretching his long, bony body. He slips into his frayed jeans, holes patched by worn blue corduroy squares, grabs his favorite khaki shirt, and slides on his shabby gray alpargatas—size eleven.

"Today is the day, he eagerly tells his awakening wife. It’s the vendimia!"

The vendimia, the first day of harvest, is an exceptional moment in any Mendocino’s life. Hard labor, patience, and endless hours working toward one goal: to make the perfect bottle of wine.

Pedro had walked the fields in the freezing winter several months ago, constantly attending to his adored grapevines. Even though his soil knowledge is limited, walking around with the agronomic engineer has taught him enough to interpret the plants’ behavior. Behind the tree line is one of his favorite spots in the vineyard. The small, undulating stream is dry, patiently waiting for the melted snow to flow its crystal waters again. Dry, too, were his trembling hands, exposed to the air after taking off his worn-out work gloves. He kneeled to inspect a parched vine, which appeared lifeless in the chilly winter day. Caressing the long, swelling stem with his bare hand, he gently wiped the ice-covered sap. The sticky glue-like material forms an elongated bubble that bleeds from the vine’s trunk. A motionless tear drops from the cut in the dry stem like a note trying to burst from an unsung opera. Pedro was witnessing the foretelling of the creation in months to come.

He knew immediately when his fingers felt the enormous amount of sap being exuded by the stem. "We are going to have a great March harvest!" he said to himself.

It is like an ancient crystal ball. The grapevine’s sap during the hibernation period is a traditional method of predicting the harvest.

The photosynthesis process in Mendoza is exaggerated by the region’s microclimate. The extremely cold winters are ideal for the dormant vineyards to fuel the ecological development, while the intense summer heat stimulates the growth of the magnificent plant’s creation, the grape.

In addition, the summer temperature fluctuation is even more helpful, since the difference between day and night might diverge from twenty to fifty degrees. The plant is exposed to one-hundred-plus-degree weather during the day, and it can fluctuate decreasing more than fifty degrees at night. An explosion of sugars and yeasts is created within the grape that rests during the cold nights and then explodes during the scorching heated day.

Wine has life; it is a living organism. From its birth in the soil, it is then harvested as a fruit within a plant’s womb, then fermented naturally—just as a creation of human species needs maturation and formation—in an oak barrica. Bottled and held captive, still evolving, maturing, becoming a round intellectual being in the darkness of the ghostly underground cellars. At the right age it flourishes, full of color, sophisticated body, intertwined with elaborate scents that captivate the most incredulous mortal, virile and full of life. Then, like every species in this cruel cycle of life … it becomes decrepit, gets old and weak—until the inevitable death.

Drinking wine is a life altering experience! The moment the cork is popped, motion stops. There is only one priority, one mission: enjoyment and appreciation for this living organism.

The Japanese culture has an ancient infatuation with finding an essence that awakens the five senses simultaneously. Wagashi is a traditional Japanese food confection that evolved into an art form in the ancient imperial once-capital city of Kyoto. One of the greatest fascinations with this food preparation is the potential for appealing to much more than just the sense of taste—it is indulging in all five senses.

Wine is the drink of gods! Hearing the cork come out of a bottle arouses your sense of awareness. Looking and appreciating the different tonalities enchants the feeble mind. The ecstasy of aromas causes anticipation of what you are about to taste. The overwhelming body, acidity, tannins, the sweet and sour velvety explosion that occurs within your mouth are an encore of flavors orchestrated by the maker, touching your body as you swallow this heavenly nectar.

March arrived and, as predicted by the prophetic sap, the grapes are at the ideal moment to harvest. Pedro and Cecilia have their morning ritual of mate, a stimulating hot herbal tea made from yerba mate dried leaves, and sopaipillas. Her delicate hand tilts the tarnished kettle, pouring the steaming water into a hollow oval receptacle, where the tiny crushed mate leaves loosely swim, raising into a foaming bubble. In order to sip this traditional gaucho beverage without swallowing the minute leaves, Pedro uses a bombilla, a metal straw with tiny holes at the bottom that filter the bitter drink.

"I am only going to have one sopaipilla; we need to rush," says Pedro, getting up from the rattan chair while taking a bite of the fried, sweetened dough.

Pedro steps out of his home and is welcomed by a majestic cloudless sky. The temperature is ultimate. He is biting his nails, walking from one side of the porch to the other; he calls on Cecilia, Let’s go, my love; it’s almost time! He is now only waiting for the anticipated green light from his patron.

Chapter 2

Appearing through a funnel of dust, riding through the land’s only dirt road, an immaculate blue Ford F150 is seen hauling toward the property’s entrance. The patron is driving while shaving his salt and pepper stubble with an old Remington Lektronic electric shaver. His wavy, grayish hair is flapping through the morning wind entering the pickup’s window. His leathered skin and tanned wrinkles conceal the handsome man. A pack of Lucky Strikes in his left jean jacket pocket and a vintage Swiss army knife in the other. Antonio Carrizo has been the patron, supervising entity, for several other wineries in the Mendoza area for the last forty years.

"Another vendimia, he thought to himself, raising his head, looking into the distance. His face lit and a half smirk appeared on his mouth. This time it’s different."

It was the first time in Antonio’s life that he was the property’s part owner.

Chapter 3

A dream comes true for Jacinto Jaure and Antonio Carrizo. At the age of twenty, Jacinto Jaure arrived in New York City in 1968, looking for adventure, new cultures, and a different lifestyle. Leaving behind his beloved hometown of Mendoza, this handsome, dark-haired Argentinean would begin his long journey toward a productive future. As an immigrant without proper documentation, his initial job was washing dishes. Hard work and determination promoted him from bus boy to waiter, and eventually to manager. In the hopes of making his dream come true, with time and effort, he became acquainted with American habits, idiosyncrasies, and lifestyle.

The seductive speaker constantly narrated stories about his beloved Mendoza, its vineyards, mountains, and luscious wines. It seemed to be his mission to explain how wine was produced and drunk habitually and how it was considered a noble, pure, and natural beverage. The existing wine-drinking habits in America at that time were convincingly different from the present ones. Wine was rarely served in restaurants and bars. Home consumption was null; it was absent at most family dinner tables.

One day, he said to his family, we will accomplish my lifelong dream!

Jacinto immediately contacted his old friend Antonio and envisioned the business proposition.

Last year was unique for the passionate visionary. Jacinto realized his sustained and cherished dream; purchasing a winery and founding Jaure Winery in his beloved and gifted Mendoza. Together with Antonio, they now have one mission: to proudly create a bottle of wine they can share profoundly and affectionately with all Americans and the world.

Chapter 4

Antonio’s truck came to a sudden stop next to Pedro’s porch, adding more dust to the terracotta residence. The first rugged leather boot steps out of the automobile. It’s a great morning, Pedro, says Antonio while closing the pickup’s door. "Are you ready for our first harvest?"

I was born for this moment, Pedro’s voice proclaims.

Are you ready Cecilia? the patron shouts while gradually walking toward the field.

Her draping wavy floral dress ripples as she runs out, slamming the wooden door after her. Yes! Yes! I am right behind you guys!

The three embarked on what would be an unforgettable day.

Every single vine leaf is caressed by a gentle breeze. They flow in the shadows of the towering alamo tree line, which protects the precious treasure from the morning sun. This prized jewel is the grape, and today it is at its optimal ripeness. The desired levels and balances for sugars and acidity have been reached. Harvesting at dawn is imperative so the grapes are still cool and the sun does not heat the land, especially when the cluster is detached from the plant and is no longer receiving nutrients.

Dozens of workers arrive at the meeting point where their chief greets them with a gentle nod.