Journal of Wine Economics Volume 16 | 2021 | No. 1

time in Paris as ambassador, including extended travels to vineyards in France, Italy, and Germany, in the White House as President, and—of course—at his beloved Monticello.

Thus, the book can function as an excellent reference—presumably for someone who wants to check on Jefferson’s travels in this year or that, the wines he was trying at the time, and the details of his transport, accommodations, conversations, and meals. Hmm, I wonder, in April of 1787, where did Jefferson visit, how long did he stay there, where did he sleep, and what wine did he drink? OK, on page 97—we learn that Jefferson spent two days in Turin at the Hotel d’Angleterre, and drank for the first time Nebiule, made from the precursor of today’s Nebbiolo grape.

So, this is a remarkable reference, and the book’s reasonable cost may be justified by just two (of the five) appendices: one being a compilation of Jefferson’s favorite wines that are “available today,” that is, in their modern incarnations; and the other an inventory of Jefferson’s White House wine cellar with detailed annotations. But even a great reference work is not necessarily a book I can recommend trying to read from start to finish (unless you have committed to write a review, of course). In too many of the book’s 16 chapters, I felt like I was reading notes prepared for me by a very careful research assistant—from which I would then have to prepare a first draft of a chapter or article. Indeed, what I would love to read would be a long New Yorker article by Mr. Gabler summarizing some highlights of these 300+ pages.

For me, such highlights would include descriptions of dinners, dinner companions, cuisine, wine, and conversations at Jefferson’s Paris residence on the Champs- Elysées, at the White House, and at Monticello. Likewise, it was fun to read excerpts from letters in which Jefferson gave advice about which wines to buy to three Presidents: Washington, Madison, and Monroe.

Yes, Jefferson’s favorites from Bordeaux included Château Margaux, Haut-Brion, Lafite, and Latour, which I was surprised to learn were called “First Growths” even in 1784, fully 70 years before Napoleon III’s 1855 classification. But Jefferson was not the ultimate wine snob, and purchased and drank a range of slightly lesser Bordeaux, including Gruard-Larose, Leoville-Las-Cases, Leoville-Poyferre, Leoville-Barton, Calon-Segur, Pontet-Canet, and—of course—from Sauternes, Château Yquem, which I learned was a very different wine in Jefferson’s day, 60 years before infection with botrytis cinerea made d’Yquem the remarkable Sauternes it is today. Beyond Bordeaux, wines of roughly similar pedigree were Jefferson’s favorites in Burgundy, the northern and southern Rhone, and elsewhere on the Continent.

Jefferson enjoyed a long retirement from the Presidency at his beloved Monticello from age 66 until his passing at 83 years of age. Those years included some marginal involvement in the political world, but mainly via letters to his successors pressing for some favored policy. Just two years into his retirement, in 1811, Jefferson abandoned his previous view of international trade policy, which was essentially based on the

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fully embraces. It is a product with a history going back to biblical times and a pres- ence and cultural impact across most of the world. It commands religious-like ven- eration like nothing else borne from the earth.

Chapter 2, “The skill of winegrowing,” encourages the use of the term “wine- grower” in place of winemaker. While this is fine if viticulture and oenology are prac- ticed by a single individual, but what if these responsibilities are divided, as is frequently the case?

The scientist makes a rare appearance in Chapter 19, “We are not programmed to like certain wines” (pp. 75–80). Dr. Goode presents a terse but technical analysis of the biological basis for flavor preferences peppered with chemical and genetic nomenclature.

In Chapter 20, “Scores can be useful, but are mostly stupid” (pp. 81–85), Goode rails against scores and tasting notes, which he calls horrible, yet admits to using both. “We experience wine, and then, because of the need to communicate, we have to translate these experiences into words,” he confesses. I like his suggestion to use metaphors to describe a wine, which could at least convey the emotional impact on the taster, rather than trying to dissect and then articulate its flavor. On the other hand, his reason for scoring wines, “because everyone else does, and I want my readers to see quickly how well I liked the wine” (p. 82), is insufficiently convincing, as even he admits he is “deeply uneasy with this practice” (p. 82).

One of Goode’s most important observations is in Chapter 28, “A mystical trans- formation” (pp. 117–121), which emphasizes the importance of microbes in making wine. “Terroir is latent; it’s the microbial activity that unfurls it and makes it a reality” (p. 118), Goode maintains in a noteworthy aphorism.

On the other hand, some chapter ledes, such as the one for Chapter 44, “Stop trying so hard and just be yourself” (pp. 184–186), try too hard to set the stage for the point he is about to make. Here Goode shares his experience buying a basic used car which he does not “pimp up” as a metaphor for not adjusting wines to try to make them great.

Chapter 37, “Segment or be damned” (pp. 149–152), begins with the ironic proc- lamation, given the lack of discernable organization in the book, “Many discussions about wine, the wine market, and ‘consumers’ are formless” (p. 149). Then Goode goes on to highlight the obvious: “There’s a big gap between the commodity segment and the fine wine/wine geek segment…with some wine geeks changing their purchasing behavior depending on occasion…” (p. 151).

Chapter 41, “Lead with your best” (pp. 167–169), contains an interesting juxtapo- sition regarding cheap wines of yore, like Chianti: “…they weren’t very tasty. It’s what the market wanted, though…” (p. 167). This begs the question: What, then, was the attraction? Surely it was more than the straw covered fiasco, many of which found a second life as a candle holder.

The origins of the book date back to 2006 when Willi Klinger was preparing to take over as CEO of the Austrian Wine Marketing Board (AWMB). Almost 15 years in the making, Klinger’s brainchild finally saw the light of day at the AWMB’s 2019 “Wine Summit,” an annual press event for the Austrian wine trade. Klinger’s quality-oriented marketing strategy necessitated strong academic partners to undertake the research required for the book. Klinger found such partners in Karl and Michaela Vocelka. Karl Vocelka, now retired, had served as Chair of the Institute of History at the University of Vienna, where he developed into a leading expert on Habsburg and Austrian history. Michaela Vocelka worked as the Chief Archivist and Head of Academic Research at the Simon Wiesenthal Archive/Documentation Center in Austria.

The bulk of the book consists of short but thoroughly researched essays on a wide variety of topics. Although most essays are narrow enough in their focus to remain coherent, it is clear that the broad scope of topics presented a challenge to the book’s organization. The result is a semi-arbitrary breakdown of the almost 500 pages into 5 general chapters, each of which is further divided into subsections that contain the authored essays. Describing each essay would turn this review into a full-length book of its own, so I will take the liberty here of summarizing each of the five chapters while only selectively addressing certain essays. It is worth noting that the editors’ intention was not to make a sustained argument about Austrian wine but rather produce a comprehensive account of the history of Austrian wine that can serve as a catalyst for further studies (the book’s subtitle confidently declares that this is the history of Austrian wine, not a history).

Chapter 1, “Environment and Nature,” brings together academic scientists and viticultural practitioners to address soils, climate, vines, and wine geography. For economists and historians, this chapter may be the most foreign, yet also, perhaps, the most fascinating. Dozens of images of rock strata animate relatively dense (for the non-specialist) text about loess, intramontane basins, and stratigraphic super units. The authors use colorful Huglin Index maps to show the warming of Austrian wine regions and to support the argument that winegrowers will have to navigate this rapid warming by adapting cultivation techniques. Ferdinand Regner’s contribution on autochthonous grape varieties marries ampelographic images to historical and ancestral descriptions of Austria’s major wine grapes. Although the last few decades have overseen enormous growth in viticultural know-how, there are still uncertainties and unanswered questions about grape par- entage and origins. In a contribution to wine geography, the reader learns that the Austrian Wine Act of 1929 was the pivot point when formerly unregulated geograph- ical designations were formalized into national law. This final section includes a number of pyramidal “systems of origin” charts and definitions for important legal terms (e.g., “Ried” and “Weinbaugebiet”). The book’s drawn-out incubation period unwittingly allowed for explanations of recent legal changes to be included in this chapter, including the 2016 creation of the Austrian Sekt pyramid.

Chapter 2, “Winegrowing through the Ages,” offers cursory introductions to wine during prehistory, Roman times, and the Middle Ages, and much larger sections on

determines competition and influences profitability by recruiting Porter’s Five Forces Model to evidence his assessment. He continues with an in-depth analysis of the many varied companies and strata that apprise the wine business and discusses organizational and institutional objectives that drive people in their work and con- tribute to local economies. Finally, to conclude part one of his book focusing on world wine market functioning, Castriota proffers detailed financial information and strategic guidance to hedge risk for expected return on investment of individual wine bottles and shares of wine companies listed on the stock exchange.

Chapter Six ushers in segment two of the book, measures taken by public author- ities to regulate the market and correct failures, by illustrating the concept of asym- metric information, which Castriota defines as “when traders do not have all the same (complete) information in a transaction that can give rise to two different sit- uations: adverse selection and moral hazard” (p. 163). Here, Castriota highlights possible solutions for these market failures and emphasizes the fundamental differ- ences between Old and New World wine sectors.

The penultimate chapter revisits the earlier theme of alcohol abuse and its conse- quences on drinkers and society at large. Drawing on medical literature, this section discusses economic and social externalities and subsequent policies and prevention campaigns adopted across countries due to the production and consumption of wine, including an international exploration of the prohibition of alcohol over the past century. Finally, Chapter Eight investigates the socioeconomic context and political and public intervention to shape the regulation of agricultural supply and market control by examining laws in Europe and the United States.

Ultimately, six economic policy conclusions are identified to survive the “wine war” outlined in Chapter One and discussed throughout the book: (1) quality of products, (2) changes to the tax system, (3) marketing and a clear wine classification system, (4) competition and support to small wineries, (5) economies of scale and competitive prices, and (6) promotion of the wine culture among consumers. Through acknowledgment and deliberate recognition of these variables, Castriota posits both Old World and New World wine companies can leverage their compet- itiveness to ensure the promotion of open and efficient wine markets that emphasize the protection of public health.

It takes frank determination and diligence to craft a tome such as Stefano Castriota’s 309-page Wine Economics; the level of research and advanced expertise that Castriota demonstrates through his substantial scholarship mark him as a leading authority in the field. Already a success with home audiences when published as Economie del Vino in his native Italy, this iteration of his work is an essential and immediate resource for any wine economics professional, scholar, or student. Rich in concrete qualitative detail and abundant quantitative evidence, Wine Economics aims to encourage the spread and study of the economics of wine. Indeed, through this meticulous and impressive offering, Stefano Castriota has provided the necessary material and knowledge for established members of the discipline as