Margaret Rand, general editor. Hugh Johnson’s Pocket Wine Book 2026. Mitchel Beazley, 2025.

Rose Murray Brown MW. A Taste for Wine: a new tasting masterclass for wine lovers. Mitchel Beazley, 2025.

Two new wine guides arrived at the Wine Economist mailbox recently, both published by Mitchel Beazley. They both take a very broad view of the world of wine and address some of the same topics and questions, but do so in very different ways. “There are no one-liners in wine,” as Jon Fredrikson says, so there’s probably not a single clear path to guiding readers through the world of wine.

Herewith a brief comparison of the two new books to help you think about the different ways that guides can approach wine and, perhaps, to help you consider what you might want from a book like this.

Compare and Contrast

• The first difference is obvious: the Hugh Johnson guide is small (about the size of two or three smartphones stacked on top of each other) and densely packed with information with very small but clearly readable text. A Taste for Wine’s format is about twice as large, the pages have a relaxed feel with lots of colorful illustrations. Hugh Johnson’s vibe is “dive deep,” while Taste for Wine feels more “take a look around.”

• Taste for Wine is brand new this year. After initially wondering if the world really needed another wine book, she decided to write this one to put her own personal stamp on wine education. The Hugh Johnson guide, on the other hand, has been updated almost every year since it first appeared in 1977. It is now a team effort with Margaret Rand leading more than 30 area-specialist wine writer contributors.

• Both books provide information about wine grape varieties and wine-food pairing suggestions. Both present surveys of global wine regions, too, but there is a big difference in depth of analysis. Taste of Wine provides two-page introductions to each region with illustrations, basic facts, and a brief list of suggested wines plus, in a separate section, a list of the author’s picks of the best wineries to visit. The list just gives names, not detailed explanations, but that might be enough to get the reader digging deeper on the internet.

• The core of the Hugh Johnson book is in the chapters on the main wine-producing countries. France and the United States are divided into the main regions and states respectively. Other countries such as Italy have one long alphabetical list of thumbnail descriptions of wineries, regions, and grape varieties. Smaller countries and U.S. states have short descriptions. This organization allows the book to pack in lots of information, but I have never warmed up to the alphabetical approach since I tend to think of wine in regional terms, so I’d put all the wineries from Alto Adige together, for example.  I imagine that this organization evolved as the number of wineries and regions grew and grew over the years. I might be happier with fewer wineries in each list with more detail on each, but the depth vs. breadth trade-off is impossible to solve to everyone’s satisfaction.

• A Taste for Wine’s largest sections are, naturally, devoted to wine tasting itself. Rose Murray Brown hopes that the book will make wine less complex and more approachable. Simplify without dumbing down. She illustrates many of her points through 10 wine tasting flights that readers are encouraged to replicate. Each element of wine tasting is indeed explained in easy-to-understand terms. It is not Brown’s fault that there are many elements to consider, so the complexity problem is difficult to overcome. I suspect her readers, seeing the “masterclass” reference in the subtitle, will be up for the challenge.

• One thing I like about A Taste for Wine is the way it reminds me of Kevin Zraly’s classic Windows on the World wine course book, now in its 35th edition and still #1 in Amazon’s wine guide ratings. Both books are focused on providing readers with the practical knowledge they need to enjoy wine. I think that practical aspect explains why there is depth in the tasting sections, which apply every time you open a bottle of wine, versus the other sections that apply in specific situations. Give readers what they need to know to make a good beginning and then guide them to take the next steps.
• The basic structure of the Hugh Johnson guides does not change much from year to year, so I always look forward to the two sections that vary considerably from year to year. The early section on “12 Wines to Try in 2026” gives readers a chance to think about what’s new and interesting in the wine world. Always interesting. And there is a themed section at the back that changes every year. For 2026 the topic is the price of wine, how it is set, what it means, is wine good value? Interesting reading.
• So which book should you add to your bookshelf? I suppose the obvious answer (and the one that Mitchell Beazley probably hopes you will give) is both books since their strengths are so complementary. Personally, the opportunity to read both books makes me think about what a wine guide needs to be in 2026, especially given the many changes in the wine world today and the availability of so much information via the internet and apps. Thinking about your perfect wine guide is a useful project, but a dangerous one. Rose Murray Brown says it is what provoked her to write A Taste for Wine!

Reviews of two books that provide very different lessons about wine today.

Enrico Bernardo, Wine & Travel Italy (Assouline, 2024).

And now for something completely different. A couple of weeks ago I wrote about Pascaline Lepeltier’s new book, One Thousand Vines. It is a big, beautiful book that is really about thinking (and maybe sometimes almost overthinking) the idea of wine. It is challenging and exciting and I recommend it highly.

This week’s first book is almost but not completely different. It is, first of all, big and beautiful, too. In fact, it is even bigger and more beautiful than Lepeltier’s book. Full of gorgeous photos, the Amazon.com page describes it as a five-pound coffee table book with a list price north of $200. (The book is available for $120 on Assouline’s website: https://www.assouline.com/products/wine-travel-italy.)

Enrico Bernardo, like Lepeltier, is a famous sommelier. He made his name at the Four Season George V in Paris and was named Best Sommelier in the World in 2004. He is writing a series of wine and travel books for the publishing house Assouline. Italy and France have already been released, California is next in line.

This is a luxurious book, which is what Assouline specializes in. It is sort of the Birkin bag of wine books if you know what I mean. It is not too concerned about how you think about wine in Italy and much more interested in how Italy and wine make you feel.

Or at least that’s the conclusion you get from counting pages. The book’s 300 pages divide Italy into 12 wine regions, each of which gets just three pages of text. Beautiful photos fill the rest of the chapter’s pages and I have to admit that it is very pleasant to sit in a chair with this book on your lap and page through the beautiful scenes. I wish there were better captions, so that I knew for sure what I was looking at, but the armchair trip through Italian wine is otherwise very enjoyable.

This isn’t the sort of wine book that I usually read or review (I learned about it in a Financial Times article and couldn’t resist checking it out), but I think that it makes a point that is worth considering. This book is about feeling more than thinking; sometimes in life and in wine, feelings are what really matter. That may be obvious, but it is easy to forget.

We often try to draw people into wine by telling them facts and challenging them to break down the wine-drinking experience into a list of sensory characteristics. But sometimes the most important thing about wine is how it makes you feel, don’t you think? It’s that feeling that you remember and that draws you back.

If you’ve visited Italy and love wine, this book will help you remember and relive the feeling. If you haven’t, then it will rev up your imagination.

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George Sorensen, Hot Dish Confidential: That Year My Friends Taught Me How to Cook.

George Sorensen has written a charming memoir about how he and a bunch of friends and acquaintances taught themselves to cook and eat foods from around the world. Wine is part of the story, of course, but in more ways than I initially expected.

Living in an Analog World …

The story is set back in the analog world before TikTok, YouTube, and email.  Sorenson and his Minnesota neighbors seek culinary enlightenment. They want to learn to cook and appreciate “gourmet” cuisine, which means foods that are more or less foreign to the American midwest table in those days, which is a long list of the items we take for granted today. (I remember visiting a Mexican restaurant in Lafayette, Indiana, back in that era where the menu helpfully explained how to pronounce the very foreign word “tah-co.”)

Sorensen and his frieds go about their task in a very analog way. He calls them together about once a month to a communal meal, where everyone brings a dish on a designated theme and chips in for wine, about which everyone complains (of course).

Sorensen is a wonderful storyteller and he has good stories to tell, so Hot Dish Confidential is a pleasure to read. He even weaves in some of the recipes he learned to cook along the way. By the end of the book, Sorensen finds that he has become a confident cook and that he has met the love of his life, with whom he can share these and other adventures. A happy ending!

One particular thought haunted me as I read through the book. Is this how someone would go about learning to make gourmet cuisine today? In today’s digital world, the first place to look for knowledge is online sources like YouTube and TikTok. Getting a bunch of friends together (at the same time and in the same place) is very analog-world inconvenient compared with the digital alternative.

Learning still takes place in digital world, and sharing, too. But it is different, don’t you think? And it is kind of a shame that the conviviality of Sorensen’s hot dish gatherings are replaced to a certain extent by Instagram likes.

Analog Wine in a Digital World?

So this, like almost everything else in life, got me thinking about wine. Back in the analog days when I was learning about wine, one of the best and most popular ways to develop wine knowledge was for a group of friends to get together once a week or once a month and to share and talk about the wines they brought with them. Like Sorensen’s dinners, these wine clubs were both fun and informative communal experiences.

I wonder if young people peering into the wine world from outside still form ad hoc analog wine groups? Or do they look instead to formal classes or scroll through YouTube and TikTok videos? The digital world is very efficient if you want information or entertainment, but the experience (and I think the impact) just isn’t the same.

I do think there is a thirst for the analog wine world. Winery friends tell me that tasting room guests these days are looking for more than tastings; they want experiences of various kinds that they can share with others. This probably strains both the resources and creativity of tasting room operators, but opens up possibilities, too. Sue points out that the recently completed Come Over October movement is an exercise in highlighting the values and benefits of analog wine gatherings.

George Sorensen’s Hot Dish Confidential is a pleasure to read and a valuable tool to help us think about what has changed in our food and wine culture and what endures, too, and why. Highly recommended.

Pascaline Lepeltier, One Thousand Vines: A New Way to Understand Wine (Mitchel Beazley, 2024). Beautifully illustrated by Loan Nguyen Thanh Lan. First published in France in 2022 as Mille Vignes (Hachette Livre).

There are different ways to taste wine depending upon your purpose. There is tasting simply to enjoy the wine, which is different from tasting it for critical review, which is different from technical tasting in search of faults to be corrected.

In the same way, there are different ways of thinking about wine (and reading books about wine) depending on your purpose. If you are new to wine and seek a road map to guide selection, for example, you can’t go wrong with Kevin Zraly’s Windows on the World wine course. It is organized like a restaurant wine list with reds here, whites there, and sparkling and fortified wines, too. Zraly’s idea of wine has guided and inspired wine drinkers for years.

The next step for many wine lovers is to drill down into particular regions or types of wines. The goal here is the appreciation that comes with more knowledge as well as enjoyment of the wine itself. My bookshelf is filled with “The Wines of XYZ” sort of books if you know what I mean, and they tend to be organized in a fairly standard way. We learn the grape varieties, the geology and geography of the wine regions, and the wines themselves plus, depending upon the particular book, more or less about history, people, profiles of wineries, and recommended wines.

A Silo-Bashing Approach

It is in this context that Pascaline Lepeltier offers a “new way to understand wine” in her big, beautifully illustrated, comprehensive new book, One Thousand Vines. This is an interdisciplinary idea of wine. Whereas many other books try to facilitate the understanding of wine by sorting them into silos of knowledge, Lepeltier is all about blowing up silos and seeing how the bits and pieces come together. (The Financial Times editor Gillian Tett has written a book called The Silo Effect about silos and their discontents.)

How does silo-bashing work? Here are a couple of examples that feature wine economics, which does not usually show up in general-audience wine books. First, take the topic of terroir. Terroir is a foundational idea in wine and it is usually approached as a combination of geography, geology, climate, and grape varieties. Sometimes (and this is controversial) the people making the wine are included in the mix because they embody certain practices and traditions that can’t be easily explained in other ways.

Lepeltier adds consumers to her idea of terroir. Consumers? The people who drink the wine? Well, she argues, obviously wine doesn’t get made unless there are people who will buy and drink it. So their likes and dislikes clearly shape the region’s wine identity alongside the other factors. It is narrrow-minded (or manybe silo-minded) to think of wine apart from the people for whom it is made.

Wine & Water Revisited

And then, to pick a narrower topic, there is the relationship between water and wine. Grapevines like to look at water, we are often told, and vineyards benefit from proximity to rivers, lakes, and oceans in several important ways. Very true.

But there is also this, Lepeltier suggests: Transportation of wine has been a problem for most of history. Overland transportation was very difficult before railroads. Water was the best way to move wine: oceans, rivers, lakes. Winegrowing regions near water enjoyed natural market pathways that encouraged their wine industries to grow. Wine production was more limited, more localized, where waterborne commerce did not exist.

To be clear, Lepeltier’s purpose isn’t simply to weave economics into the wine narrative where it is important; it is to create a framework, a way of thinking, so that the reader can link everything relevant to everything important. That’s a big task, so the author outlines the process in a brief introduction called “Reading One Thousand Vines.” 

Lepeltier tells us that she was frustrated when she started studying wine because the standard approach seemed to simplify and to encourage rote memorization. She found herself drawing upon her practical knowledge as a sommelièr and her critical thinking training as a student of philosophy. Silos began to tumble and this ambitious and important book is the result.

Everything’s Connected

You might be a little disoriented when you start to read One Thousand Vines because other wine books are quite linear (grapes, regions, wines, etc.). This book is more like the internet. Since everything is connected to everything else in some way, you can start just about anywhere and it will take you on a journey (which won’t be exactly the same as if you started somewhere else). You can dive in and out as I have been doing, too, always ending up with more insights than expected and new questions to explore.

That said, a book like this needs structure. The chapters are organized around the ideas of Reading Vines, Reading Landscapes, and Reading Wines. The topics are familiar enough, but the approach is different from most other books. It is a fascinating way to re-imagine wine, driven by philosophy but rich in real-world examples. I’ve learned a lot so far and look forward to making more unexpected connections.

Wondering about Wine

“I hope that reading this book will be an opportunity for you to experience wonder,” Lepeltier writes at the end of the introduction. Tasting wine can be wonderful. Can thinking about it engage the senses in the same way? Here’s your chance to find out.

One Thousand Vines is an exceptional achievement worthy of a special place on your wine bookshelf.