Jonathan Nossiter, award-winning filmmaker and former sommelier, had his first taste of wine at the age of three in Paris, from his father's fingertip. For him, wine is "memory in its most liquid and dynamic form," an essential art. In Liquid Memory , the American expatriate takes readers on a cheeky insider's investigation of the mysteries of terroir , the historical sense of place that makes wine unique. Nossiter, who already created an uproar in the world of wine with his film Mondovino , here reveals how the tyranny of snobs, critics, and charlatans prevents us all from taking part in what should be a gloriously democratic bacchanalia. From the sacred wineshops of Paris to film locations in Rio de Janeiro, this singular journey invites us to consider how power influences taste and how one's own taste might combat power in any sphere. Unabashedly controversial, Liquid Memory has already riled the establishment, and it will continue to stimulate wine lovers and convert the skeptics for many years to come.
My first memory about wines comes from my grandma... in form of a small glass of amontillado in winter when I was little, the taste of a consommé with manzanilla, or the smell of the bodegas where I used to go to collect her bottles of wine.
This book is the best book that I've ever read about wines. Try, you don't regret it.
A novice of both wine and cinema, Nossiter is sometimes overwhelming. People who write about things they love assume those who also love what they love will be the ones to read such works, so when a novice comes along the persistent name dropping and mention of specialist verbiage can slow them down. "Okay, I know who Coppola is and what a Bordeaux is, but you're losing me on the rest." That said, I can appreciate what he's looking for in the hunt for terroir. I'm into organic and biodynamic farming. I do believe a place which has hosted vineyards for centuries has a special relationship with the wine it produces, but I'm not sold point of origin is what makes a wine good or even necessarily great. And certainly, wine gives you memories and connects you to a place, and I can get behind that thesis.
This book is in part an exposition of the author's thinking on wine and in part interviews and discussion with others in the wine business. I found the author's views to be dogmatic, overly serious, and generally what most would expect from a stereotypical wine snob. Fortunately, many of the interviews were with very interesting people and the author had the good sense to let their views come out on their own rather than filter them though his particular perspective. Overall I didn't regret taking the time to read the book, but I wouldn't recommend it.
Gave up on, not because it was a difficult read or badly written - it wasn't terrible. It just wasn't the book I was hoping it would be.
I was looking for something deeper about "why wine matters." This book boils down to "this is when I was introduced to this wine" and "this is why I like/don't like it." Plus, much more wine snobbery than one would expect from someone who is claiming to dislike wine snobs.
One star because literally "I didn't like it." Others have obviously found value here.