Owners Phyllis and Ed Pedrizzetti retiring after running winery
for more than half century
Morgan Hill – Phyllis Pedrizzetti is exasperated with her bonding agent, or as she would prefer, her ex-bonding agent.Â
As she tries to explain that her business isn’t really her business, her sharp, raspy voice echoes loudly in the Pedrizzetti Winery warehouse. She’s having a tough time communicating a simple concept: the winery doesn’t belong to the Pedrizzetti anymore.
“I’m not going to be in business,” Pedrizzetti, 77, says when she’s off the phone. “It’s not fun anymore. I’m too old and I’m too tired to be in competition. I’ve been here 57 years and I’ve earned a gold watch.”
So earlier this year, Phyllis, and her husband of nearly six decades, Ed, sold the winery to a San Jose family that intends to continue crushing grapes at the historic winery that’s been in the Pedrizzetti family for 57 years.Â
The winery first opened 93 years ago, which is about how long the Pedrizzettis feel like they waited to sell. They fielded no fewer than seven offers in the last few years only to have buyer after potential buyer back out of a deal when they learned operating a winery is more work than fun.
“People don’t want to work that hard,” Phyllis said. “You can’t just take over. You have to start your own business. It’s not like starting a 7-Eleven.”
The winery has been in the family since 1945 and under Ed’s direction since 1949. When they started, the Pedrizzettis knew nothing about growing grapes or making wine, but they were lucky enough to earn the pity of Mike Bo, of the old San Martin Winery.
“He taught Eddie everything,” Phyllis said. “He was very generous with his knowledge. … I started learning everything I could about wine making and the politics of the Bureau of Alcohol Tobacco and Firearms who, at that time, controlled your life.”
While she was trying to raise three kids, there were times Phyllis felt nearly overwhelmed by the demands of the winery and relentless paperwork.
“There’s so much record keeping,” she said. “For every pound of grapes that comes in to the finished product in the bottle, you have to account for every drop of it.”
But as years became decades and the Pedrizzettis became wise old hands, the winery thrived. The vines went away and the Pedrizzettis began crushing grapes imported from Monterey, San Luis Obispo and Mendocino counties. They specialized in reds, with a petite sirah being Phyllis’s favorite. Crushing grapes was always a joy, Phyllis said, “because you never know if the wine you’re making is going to be the best wine that you made in your life.”
Until 1996, the Pedrizzettis bottled about 50,000 cases a year, but a disastrous fire in 1996 put an end to most of their operations. In the middle of a seafood party, a faulty ignition switch on a propane tank sent the old redwood warehouse up in flames. The Pedrizzettis spent $2 million renovating the winery – the new tasting room and events area was designed by their daughter Janey – but they began to wonder why they stayed in business. They longed to spend more time at their home in Jackson, Mont., a town of 65 near Missoula, where they will finally retire late this year.
“We got disheartened and took the easy way out,” Phyllis said. After the fire the family bottled only 2,000 cases a year, and mostly for other people. The Pedrizetti label was available only at the winery and a few local stores.
When she gets to Jackson, Phyllis plans to write a memoir of her 57 years in the wine industry, a book that will include the secrets of her “killer prime rib” and other recipes. Ed isn’t sure yet what he’ll do.
“It will be no more headaches, no more nothing,” he said. “I just don’t know what to do so far.”
Phyllis said she won’t miss government restrictions or “the do-gooders who try to put every road block in your way.” The Pedrizzettis will miss their children who remain in South County and the great friends they made in the tasting room. Ed has to give up his daily morning trip to O’Henry’s Donuts, where he meets the friends he’s known since childhood.
One of the Pedrizzettis favorite old-timers is Rocky Rocca, who opened the market that bears his family name in San Martin. Rocca, who’s known Ed since the first grade, offered a simple compliment for the Pedrizzettis, calling them “good, honest people.”
“I’ve known them so long, I can’t tell one way or the other about them,” Rocca said. “I’ve been mad at him and I’ve been happy with them. After knowing someone for 70 years, it’s quite a marriage.”
