“You are part private banker, part art curator, part psychiatrist,” explains Jeff Smith, Hollywood’s go-to wine cellar consigliere, of his job. “Sometimes you’re hosting private dinners for your clients; sometimes you go in through the back door.”
Smith, 63, grew up in Beverly Hills and now lives in Bel Air, a short stroll from the neighborhood’s storied Moraga Estate vineyard. (“I tasted it long before [owner] Rupert Murdoch bought it.”) He’s married to Amy Jo Smith, the longtime chair of Hollywood trade organization the Digital Entertainment Group.
Smith himself found his niche at 40. In 2001 — after bouncing around entertainment in A&R, marketing and programming positions — he took charge of organizing the cellar of his father, legendary music executive Joe Smith, who led Warner Bros. and Elektra/Asylum in the 1970s. From there he accrued initial customers who were also family friends, including über-manager Irving Azoff, film producer Freddy DeMann and Mel Brooks.
“He’s advised me throughout the years: to purchase, to auction [off],” Brooks tells THR. “But more than that, he’s been a wonderful friend to lift a glass of good wine with.”
These days, Smith’s client list, by referral, is heavy on industry luminaries known by one name as well as those whose lucrative toil in the more anonymous sectors of show business has allowed the amassment of a 20,000-plus-bottle collection. Smith helps them accrue, downsize, transport and secure their spirits. “He’s the Willy Wonka of wine,” avers strategic communications consultant Steve Elzer, who was previously senior vp media relations at Sony Pictures. “Jeff knows who’s sitting on the unicorns that people want and who’s willing to part with them at the right price.”
Smith’s primary service, though, is organization, turning a jumbled hoarding into a legible gateway delineated by price, score, context and — most important — drink-by date. “If you don’t know what you’ve got, you can’t enjoy it,” he says.
Smith, who worked for two decades on his own, became the chief wine officer of storage firm Vino Vault a year ago. (The company was founded by Jeff Anthony, who had experience preserving master tapes and motion-picture film at records management company Iron Mountain, where he ran the entertainment division.)
Smith learned early that his value proposition was at the intersection of information and time. He recalls suggesting that a top TV agent might subscribe to Wine Spectator magazine to become savvier: “He said, ‘How about you read Wine Spectator and tell me about wine.’ “
Smith, who’s published a book on storage, The Best Cellar, is often called in during a remodel, or after floods and fires, or to squire the goods to a new address, separately from the hired movers. “Wine is just the hardest thing to transport because of its fragility; I tell people, this is like a heist — but you’re in on it,” he says.
Sometimes damage is self-inflicted by improper care. He recalls visiting the home of late Variety columnist Army Archerd, who didn’t drink but had accrued bottles as gifts over the decades, including a prized 1961 Château Latour, which he’d kept on a crosshatch rack over his refrigerator. (That bottle, had it been properly stored, would be worth about $4,500 today.) “This was possibly the worst you can do: the heat, the light, the vibration,” Smith shares, sighing. “I picked it up, and the fill was too low. I told him that the bottle was worth the 10 cents for California redemption. You couldn’t drink it or cook with it or even give it away.”
As another long-standing client, Joel McHale, puts it, “He’s very up-front: ‘Drink this now or it’s going to suck.’ ” McHale adds that “Jeff’s knowledge is pretty nuts — nuts in the way of a professor who knows everything about his [area of expertise].” Smith declined to share fee scales for his work but says that he sometimes charges a day rate or an hourly, sometimes by the number of bottles in a collection.
There are, according to Smith, often commonalities among his clientele. Most live behind gates in houses where the staff outnumber the residents. A picture of the collector with a U.S. president can reliably be found on display. There’s no mobile phone reception in the cellar, which Smith became highly aware of when he found himself temporarily stuck inside James L. Brooks’ vault alongside the producer. (“The door had formed kind of a vacuum seal, and eventually it just gave way,” says Smith of how they finally got out.)
Oh, and his clients’ tastes follow a similar arc, transcending myriad domestic varietals and French appellations toward a narrow terminus. “The fully evolved collector only drinks red Burgundy and Champagne, that’s it,” Smith announces. That is, he explains, until they make it to such an advanced age that taste bud loss means that zinfandel and chardonnay become attractive again.
Smith’s Wine Recs
Champagnes
Asked for his picks for great bubbly, Smith replies that “Champagne is easy” because “the Grande Marques [or great brands] are indisputable.” He especially recommends 2008 vintages. “2008 was a banner year,” he says, calling out Cristal and Krug (both $500 a bottle, wallywine.com) and Dom Perignon ($285, vinfolio.com) as favorites. “I would argue that the 2008 Cristal is a relative bargain, and not just in terms of what it may sell for somewhere down the road. Consider that this is, arguably, one of the greatest Champagnes in the world, in a universally acclaimed vintage. Five hundred dollars is not cheap for a beverage, but even the king of England can’t do better than that.” For less spendy options, Smith suggests Grower Champagnes. “These are smaller producers, more defined by terroir than by a house style of the Grande Marques. I am reluctant to put into print my house Champagne because it is hard to find: a non-vintage Marc Hébrart Rosé, $50 to $60 a bottle, but tastes like a lot more. I tasted through dozens to find it. If you’re planning a party, I prefer non-vintage Henriot Brut Souverain or Nicolas Feuillatte Rosé, both $50 to $60 and widely available.”
Burgundies
“Burgundy is a slippery slope. It gets very pricey very fast. It often comes down to a Bee Gees song: ‘How Deep Is Your Love,’ ” quips Smith, who is a fan of Robert Chevillon’s 2019 Nuits Saint Georges 1er Cru Les St. Georges ($300 a bottle, wallywine.com). “Unfortunately, you’re going to have to wait a little while to enjoy this, maybe another 10 years or so,” he says. “Wine collecting shows The Rewards of Patience — the title of a book about Penfolds Grange, the iconic Australian wine that also takes years to evolve.” Smith adds, “If $300 is a little steep on this slippery slope, there are other NSGs [Nuits Saint Georges] from Chevillon that open at about $80 a bottle. Start there and work your way up.” He also advises that “it can be so important to focus your collecting, effort and money on great vintages — such as 2019 — as much as great producers.” Smith is also big on burgundies from Domaine Fourrier, including its Gevrey-Chambertin Vieilles Vignes (the 2010 vintage can be found via wine-searcher.com for about $235 to $250 a bottle). “The last stop on the crazy train is Grand Cru Burgundies,” says Smith. “Anything by Mugneret-Gibourg, Échezeaux, Clos de Vougeot or Ruchottes-Chambertin would be an excellent pick, but there is a comma in the price.”
This story first appeared in the Aug. 16 issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. Click here to subscribe.