Wineau Book List

I may be alone in that I find it difficult to read while on a plane. (I will not discuss what happens when I try to read--or even look at a map--in a car, but I will say that it invariably concludes with a sudden need to pull over to the side of the road.) Motion sickness is a curse, I tell you. A curse.

However, during my travels last week, I was so absorbed by The Billionaire's Vinegar: The Mystery of the World's Most Expensive Bottle of Wine that I made the attempt and suffered the inevitable consequences. This story, a parade of human vanities, is a classic tale of the con, acted by characters who fit beautifully into their roles as a despicable villain puffed up with hubris and rich victims whose arrogance and insatiable appetite for status turn them into easy marks.

Now I am reading Judgment of Paris: California vs. France and the Historic 1976 Paris Tasting That Revolutionized Wine. Also a terrific read. The writer gives the histories of now legendary winemakers--Joe Heitz, Mike Grgich, Warren Winiarski-- and describes how this event that really did change the wine world came about. It was the flap of the butterfly's wings felt round the world. When the event was conceived, no one--NO ONE, not even the organizer--had any idea that this event would change the course of the pour forever.

(Which is an idea that forms part of my inner landscape: that we never know which of our words or actions will have the greatest influence or significance or effect, which means it is all the more necessary to both keep the faith and keep on taking steps in the directions of one's dreams, and to guard oneself in one's habits.)

However, I was a tiny bit disappointed to notice this error in Judgment of Paris:

High-quality grapes like Cabernet Sauvignon do not travel well because they have thin skins and are easily damaged in transport.

In fact, Cabernet Sauvignon is a thick-skinned grape, which the writer must know if he drinks wine (and his loving descriptions of wines indicates that he does), because those thick skins are what gives the wine those hallmark tannins. So odd, it seems like such a basic and preventable mistake. Then again, what I've learned from lo, these many years in publishing, is that "error-free" tends to be more theory than execution, as "error-free" is labor-intensive and thus expensive. The writer may have been thinking of Pinot Noir, which does happen to be a thin-skinned grape.

[UPDATE: Toward the end of the book, I just ran into another mistake, in which wine writer Jancis Robinson is given a masculine possessive pronoun, indicating that she is a man. Uh oh. I bet there was some hot water around that one.]

Not that I mean to sound like an obnoxious know-it-all; we all make mistakes. But I'm not just reading for fun. Because I understand that I am behind the curve in my wine knowledge, I've dedicated this summer to furthering my wineau education (which furtherance extends to the Frahnch and Espahnish and Portuguese) in preparation for the sommelier diploma program that begins in October, and to which I have not even been formally admitted (which I confess does make me a little nervous).

When I finish this one, I'm moving on to a book about the Mondavi empire, and then another about the Nazis and French wine.

Those are the fun books, you understand. I am still plodding my way through The Art and Science of Wine, Alexis Lichine's Guide to the Wines and Vineyards of France, and The Wine Bible. Still waiting for that moment when I feel as if I know something. That is a wonderful feeling, when you come to a deep understanding of whatever it is you are studying. It's going to take some time, in the immortal words of the Carpenters.



UPDATE: Fixed my mistake in verb form. And added a missing conjunction. So much for error-free publishing, eh.