Heublein Inc

When the stand-up comic suggested a magazine for comedy nightclubs, nobody laughed. That was a year and a half ago at a New York meeting of the Assn. of Professional Comedians. Now, that comic's concept is playing at clubs nationwide. Three freebie publications are making the rounds at comedy clubs from Los Angeles to New York. And why not? Fans leave ballgames with score cards sticking out of their back pockets.

The Victorian brick-lined vault filled with the fragrance of old claret as 20 tasters sat down to face 60 vintages of California's most celebrated wine. Ordinarily, tasting so many wines at once would be a daunting task, especially with jet lag factored in. But these weren't just any wines. Most of them sang in the glass, each with a slightly different voice, and the harmony was sweet music indeed.

On any given workday, Dal Perio can be found in his office sipping vodka, tequila or perhaps a cocktail. His employers don't mind. In fact, they encourage him. Perio is the "senior sensory scientist" at Heublein Inc., makers of Smirnoff vodka, Jose Cuervo tequila and more than 100 other alcohol products. His job is to ensure Heublein's products taste as they should and to help develop new products that people will want to drink. Through his lips pass a cornucopia of alcohol.

At first glance, the link between chili peppers and auto racing seems a bit obscure, but to Bruce Barnes it was a natural. After all, racing is a sport that appeals to the adventurous, and chilies are not for the faint of heart. So Barnes, through his fledgling Barnes Management Co. in Newport Beach, sold the folks at Heublein Inc. on signing the Al and Bobby Unser families to promote Heublein's Ortega brand canned chilies. The whole Unser clan made a 3-month, eight-state blitz of personal appearances at state fairs, chili cook-offs and other events to promote Ortega.

Niebaum-Coppola Estate has two faces. Most people see the vulgar show-biz facade that glorifies the Napa Valley estate's owner, film director Francis Ford Coppola. Yet behind all the glamour and hype -- and the merchandise emporium selling "Godfather" souvenirs -- is one of the world's finest wine estates. This is the most striking paradox in California wine.

Already deep in debt, Tom and Bill Berryhill--fourth-generation farmers--recently had to come up with $80,000 or lose the San Joaquin Valley farm they had cultivated for eight years. One of the wineries they contracted with no longer wanted the variety of wine grapes they were harvesting. "We were really hurting," said Bill Berryhill, 26, a big man with an unruly shock of hair.

When Jim Spaulding started Stonegate Winery in this Napa Valley village 12 years ago, his main problem was getting enough grapes to make all the wine he could sell. Today, with U.S. wine consumption stagnant for three years in a row, bargain-priced imports capturing an ever larger share of the American market, and boutique wineries like Stonegate still proliferating, Spaulding has a new problem: selling all the wine he makes.