I piaceri della cantina raccoglie i testi, scritti nell’arco di oltre cinque anni, che testimoniano il continuo viaggio dell’autore alla ricerca di novità, di classici, di sorprese, solleticando sia il palato sia la curiosità dei lettori. Fin dal suo esordio con la dirompente prosa di Le mille luci di New York, Jay McInerney ha ricevuto molti riconoscimenti. Tra essi c’è anche quello di “miglior scrittore di vini” da parte della rivista “Salon”. Le sue recensioni enologiche sono state definite “brillanti, acute, comiche e spesso sfacciatamente provocatorie”. Sul “New York Times” hanno scritto: “I giudizi sui vini di McInerney sono attenti, pieni di aneddoti sfiziosi e impeccabili citazioni letterarie.” Una guida indispensabile e sfaccettata alle infinite varietà di vino che presenta. Riesling dei Finger Lakes, Armagnac di Gascony, Amarone della Valpolicella, le bottiglie ideali da degustare con il cioccolato, sono solo alcuni esempi delle delizie che si assaporano nella raccolta: un bouquet di stili e sapori, di luoghi e personaggi ritratti dalla sapiente scrittura di uno dei più grandi autori americani contemporanei.
John Barrett McInerney Jr. is an American writer. His novels include Bright Lights, Big City, Ransom, Story of My Life, Brightness Falls, and The Last of the Savages. He edited The Penguin Book of New American Voices, wrote the screenplay for the 1988 film adaptation of Bright Lights, Big City, and co-wrote the screenplay for the television film Gia, which starred Angelina Jolie. He is the wine columnist for House & Garden magazine, and his essays on wine have been collected in Bacchus & Me (2000) and A Hedonist in the Cellar (2006). His most recent novel is titled The Good Life, published in 2006.
I came away with a list of wines to try, but the book is dated and I found the tone and style tiresome after a while. But I'm not a huge McInerney fan to start with.
Feels like a bunch of aggregated published columns put together in hopes of riding the zeitgeist of the time (Sideways?). A bit too name droppy and nowhere near informative enough for what I had hoped for.
This is a 3.5 star book for me. It's interesting, but a little bit repetitive with a lot of technical terminology and insider name dropping. If you're not already very into wine I'd save this read for later on in your journey.
Great stories about the characters that create the world's best elixir. Also, informative for those of us that tend to drink the same varietals all the time. What a great job Jay McInerney has!
No thanks. Mr McInerney is so arrogant it flows out of his writing. Far too many quips and references about women and their appearance. Get in the bin.
"Our love of wine is the fraternal bond that brings us together, and it is the lubricant that stimulates our conversations, but it's a polygamous relationship that encourages and enhances our other passions. It leads us to other subjects and leads us back to the world. It lifts us up and delivers us from the mundane circumstances of daily life, inspires contemplation, and, ultimately, returns us to that very world, refreshed, with enriched understanding and appreciation."
Most known for his New York-based novels, McInerney has also made a name for himself in the wine world, publishing three books on the topic, as well as numerous columns. "A Hedonist in the Cellar" is a collection of short essays where he discusses different varietals, regions, and his preferred beverages from each. Unlike some other books on the same topic, this is not for beginners or the uninitiated. In order to really appreciate (/understand) what McInerney is talking about, it is best if you have already read up on the subject. The tone can be a bit elitist at times, especially when he talks about pairings at upscale New York restaurants, but it's his enthusiasm and obvious love for the beverage that keeps you reading. An effective wine book should excite you and make you want to keep tasting and exploring; in that way this book is a success. If you (like Jay and myself) are oenophiles, this is an entertaining book that will have you reaching for your corkscrew.
Upfront I have to admit I only got two-thirds of the way through before stopping.
In some ways this book reminded me of something written by John McPhee, that is, it doesn't matter what the subject matter and whether you are interested in it because the great writing keeps you going (like The Founding Fish).
But for me, while the subject of wine is interesting and the writing, a collection of his columns, sometimes entertaining, it seemed almost repetitive by the time I stopped. If you are a somewhat serious wine consumer you will probably enjoy, and get a lot more out of this book than I did.
On the other hand, if someone has a list of the book's wine recommendations in an Excel spreadsheet, I would love to have it.
Since it was a collection of periodicals it was hard to build credibility to the speakers voice. Credibility in passion, education any reason why I should want to hear his opinion and it was just wasn’t conveyed for me. I loved the columns about Santa Barbara County in the late 90s and early 2000s and some of his travels to South America, but I loved those because of the characters he introduced quickly with a quote or two. Overall, the author came off unapproachable and wine has had a long history of that; said politely the book and author are a bit dated, but because they are columns you could skip to the next chapter if you weren’t loving where the piece was going.
Nice to read an adult book after a long time. This was nice and quick. A good reminder of the different wines and regions I enjoy and have yet to discover. The only negative is it felt a bit dated given it references
Some quotes I like:
1. “Why is it that most men don’t like fat women but they think they like fat wines.” — Kermit Lynch, referring to overripe California Cabernets
2. “Bacchus loves the hills.” — Latin: Bacchus amat colles
3. “Burgundy is a wine for chronic romantics — those for whom hope perennially triumphs over experience.” — Jay McInerney
This was a great collection of columns. There were a few that I skimmed over, but for the most part, I really enjoyed each one. I liked the variety of focus on different aspects of wine, from grower, to maker, to reviewer, to expert. I made a list of places to visit, and hope to be able to try some of the wines reviewed. I am not even a novice at French wine, so I did have some difficulty following all the different wines. I searched alot of these wines online, and by doing so got a rudimentary base to start with going forward. Now comes the fun part of actually tasting the wines!
The author is totally self-absorbed and holier-than-thou. Thus the book is jam-packed full of supposedly impressive names, terms, locations, and experiences. Overall just snobby and minimally informative about actual wine.
“‘Haut-Brion,’ I declared, eliciting a chorus of gasps. I examined the color, and took a sip. ‘Nineteen eighty-two,’ I pronounced. I sat down and basked in the general admiration without bothering to explain my methods…”
Saw this at the library and was taken by the intro, but there’s no structure to the book and a lot of the information is outdated. I’m sure these were fun and helpful as a monthly column, but they did not benefit from being bound into a book. To be fair, I came away with a few new wines I’m interested in trying: Condrieu and Amarone.
A light but entertaining reading about a complex and often misunderstood subject: tastes. Takeaway for me, an amateur wine fanatic: it gives enough information on to get curious about some regions, wineries and grapes. New for me: Sagrantino varietal. Now, I must seek and taste it.
3.5 really. Some of the writing was brilliant, but it was uneven. And uneven is a bit of a curse in an anthology (now dated) about wines and winemakers.
On the purchase of my flat last year, after renting 20 places in 18 years (including 6.5 years in one place), an ex-girlfriend gave me Jay McInerney's book, A Hedonist in the Cellar. She was overjoyed to find a book this bookman had not read, and one so appropriate to my newest passion in life, wine. McInerney is perhaps best known for his book Bright Lights, Big City, something everybody my age was reading in college, and then watching the movie version of starring Michael J. Fox. However, McInerney is also the wine columnist for American magazine House & Garden, and Hedonist in the Cellar is a collection of some of those columns. I find his novel much more accessible than his wine writing, however, I did learn a lot if I skimmed past the details of vintages and domaines. I believe that wine writing at its worst uses floral and excess verbiage, whereas at its best it simply says, "an excellent dry red, good with pasta, serve at ??? degrees C." Honestly, do I need to know anything more? Wines tend to suggest aromas from 4 main sources, the spice rack, cigar box, orchard and tack room, not to mention the minerals in the soil. In fact, wine aromas are "a catalog of minor vices." I know I should care, but I am not one to recall "wildly floral, modest, affable, honeyed, peach-like and delicate" while it is gracefully sliding down my gullet after some Croatian black olives salted in barrels of Adriatic seawater. This is why McInerney's wine writing, as is most wine writing, completely lost on me. I am a heathen, a peasant, a philistine, and just pass the bottle. As with poetry and art, Michel Chapoutier of Tain l'Hermitage (northern Rhone) said, "If you think about it too much you can kill it. The brain is a pleasure killer. You don't need to be a gynecologist to make love." There are some wines I love and some wines I hate, but don't ask me to tell you why. Maybe it is a lack of taste, in both senses of the word, but I just don't have the adjectives in me. Apparently, "anyone with taste buds can easily detect, in various combinations, such fruit flavors as lemon, lime, green apple, grapefruit, apricot, and even pineapple in the glass." Hmmm, not me, though I can easily identify various spices in my food. What I can tune into is anecdotes, such as the following paragraph: "My teeth are still stained from the experience of tasting the '99 Barbera d'Alba Gallina and the '99 Barbera d'Asti that spring...reminded me of a blackberry fight I had with two fifth grade classmates in Vancouver, Canada. We were picking blackberries, and after we'd willed two buckets and eaten several handfuls, we started throwing the surplus at one another. Thirty years later, Giuseppe Rivett's Barbera made me almost that exuberant." Or, "Bandol Mourvedre tastes like ripe blackberries squashed up with old teabags." Or, "If you are the kind of person who would never consider sharing a room with a wet Labrador or a lit cigar, then I advise you to skip the rest of this column." This makes me want to try a bottle. I learned some other things as well.
Whereas most dry whites can turn nasty and bitter with Asian cuisine, I learned that German Riesling is "the most food-friendly wine on the planet." Meaning, you can drink it with almost anything. McInerney says that the 2004 is like "inhaling a small electric eel." Even so, white wine goes so well with fish because it acts like lemon juice and highlights the flavor.
Whereas I tend to leave spiders alone because they are my best defense against mosquitoes and flies, wine cellars are full of cobwebs not to heighten the ambiance just for you, but because spiders are a great natural way to keep cork flies under control.
Ever wondered why wine makers add sulfur? According to Willy Frank, "Sulfur gives wild yeast a headache so they don't go into an orgy."
The owner of the Domaine de la Citodelle, M. Yves Riusset-Rouard, producer of the famous Emmanuel films, is also proprietor of the world's largest corkscrew museum.
The next wine books on my list, as suggested by McInerney, include:
Auberon Waugh's Waugh on Wine (son of Evelyn)
Kermit Lynch's Adventures on the Wine Route
Perhaps my favorite description in the book is this: "as smooth as baby Jesus in velvet pants." I suspect only god knows what this is like.
Collections of essays like this are bound to be uneven, and this one is no exception. This is really more of a 3 1/2 star rating. As other reviewers have pointed out, the strongest parts of the book are the first three chapters where his focus is on wine regions. His discriptions of these places and their wines are witty, engaging and highly entertaining.
Like the hillsides and valleys vines seem to love, the lowest part of the book is the middle, part four, in which he talks about wine personalities. The slight irritation of McInerney's frequent oh-so-clever name-dropping developed into a full blown rash for me in this part, each section of which is one extended name drop.
His cliched NYC-centric snobbery also comes into full force in part four. "A Voice in the Wilderness" epitomizes this attitude. The Finger Lakes are "the wilderness", one can hear the disgust and horror in his description of the "ramshackle" Frank winery and its visitors who drive minivans and buy wine buy the case, and its neighbors who make wine from hybrid grape varieties! Oh, the horrors of middle America!
While McInerney does have some annoying habits and attitudes, at his best he is an excellent writer and A Hedonist in the Cellar is a good read.
Soon after I started reading this book, I was marveling over how enjoyable I found it. I don't actually know all that much about wine (other than that I like drinking it). So the various descriptions didn't really conjure up memories of flavors for me. And I realized very quickly that I wasn't going to be able to use the book as an educational tool, or interactive experience, because most of the wines he writes about simply aren't to be found here, at least not in the stores I generally frequent. So why on earth would it be entertaining to read short essays about various obscure types of wine? And yet - it was. McInerney has a wonderfully readable prose style. It's not exactly evocative - it's not that you can actually taste what he's describing (at least I couldn't) - but it's somehow a lot of fun anyhow. What does come across is his personality. He seems like a guy I'd enjoy hanging out with. I don't know that I learned all that much about wine, unless, perhaps, by learning about what it might be like to be someone who knows a lot about wine, but I liked the book a lot, and definitely recommend it to anyone who has even the faintest interest in or appreciation for the noble grape.
Mr McInerney's collection of articles is thoughtfully put together with chapters comprised of themed topics. This, I believe is his 2nd in a series of three of these collections and certainly much more enjoyable than the subsequent edition (which I had read previously).
Each article, roughly 4 pages in length, was quick, eductional, generally entertaining and in many cases left me wanting more. The focus was usually on all those interesting places and their wines that often get overlooked by the masses. Frequently these essays give a heads up to some potential trends in the evoluation of our tastes. As well, greater effort was given to sharing a bit of the history behind some of the world's more mysteroius wines and even a few spirits.
"A Hedonist...", is actually a very quick read as I was able to get through these short and sweet wine tales in two sittings....each a couple weeks apart.
I have come to realize that - as much as I love good food and excellent wine - I do not love to read essay-length expositions of expensive meals and pricey vintages. Not that any are poorly written, but I recognized quickly I could only tolerate a couple or three at a time in a collection on the topic. But even as I saw the light at the end of the hedonist tunnel and got ever closer to the end, the white truffle references and $1,000 bargain Montrachet - not to mention the description of a duck sauce "thickened with the blood of three-week old ducklings" (easily paired with a Bordeaux or Rhones wine from a extensive list) - were more than I could continue to bear. I really wanted to like this book because McInerney is considered the rock 'n' roller of the wine world. Instead I was reminded once again that the wealthy are just so very different us.