Journal of Wine Economics Volume 8 | 2013 | No. 1

In Search of Pinot Noir is the third in a rapid succession of serious, meaty books on wine by Benjamin Lewin, a molecular biologist, principal author of a respected textbook on genetics now known as Lewin’s Genes X, and editor of the journal Cell from 1974 to 1999. Lewin, who was entrepreneurial in the field of scientific, technical and medical (STM) publishing, founded Cell with MIT Press, then took it private in 1984, founding Cell Press, before selling the title to Elsevier, the world’s largest STM publisher, in 1999. He has been seriously (as well as hedonically) interested in wine for most of his adult life, and earned the Master of Wine credential in 2008. His wine books, each a huge project on a topic of high visibility and a physical volume of considerable heft, have appeared with astonishing speed, one each in 2009, 2010 and 2011, all published by Vendange Press, an imprint that (so far at least) publishes only books by Lewin himself.

In Search of Pinot Noir is a book about Burgundy, and about wine made from the pinot noir grape anywhere (and almost everywhere) else. Lewin examines most of the basic questions about pinot, Burgundy and other regions where pinot is taken seriously: what do we expect of pinot noir; what do we mean by Burgundian style; how are the pinots of the New World (and other European regions) different from red Burgundies; which properties of red Burgundy are attributable to terroir and which to winemaking; have winemakers elsewhere sought to emulate Burgundies or to create new expressions of the grape; what governs the ability of red Burgundies to age attractively, etc.

None of these questions is new, nor does Lewin provide original or startling answers. What In Search…does do, however, is to look systematically across essentially all the world’s pinot noir with a single intellect and palate, and to assemble in one place a wealth of comparative data about many parameters of winegrowing, especially climate, topography, soils, varietal distribution, viticultural practices and winemaker opinions about the interplay between sites and styles. This is new, I think, and an important contribution to the international conversation about pinot. Where else does one find, within the same covers, aerial/satellite views of Clos St-Jacques on which the individual holdings of five vignerons have been labeled, of the Rochioli Vineyard showing individual blocks by clone and date of planting, and of Central Otago labeled with the sub-regional vineyard area designations? Or same-person tasting notes on a six-year vertical of Treinta y Dos, a recently revived 1932 planting of pinot noir at Bodega Chacra in southern Argentina; an 11-year vertical of Krafuss, Alois Lageder’s flagship pinot from the Alto Adige; and a seven-year vertical of Weingut Oekonomierat Rebholz’ Spätburgunder from the Im Sonnenschein vineyard in the Pfalz?

Lewin’s felicity with visual data presentations also offers readers an uncommonly rich array of charts and graphs expressing such matters as relative price evolution of
Burgundian crus from the 17th to the end of the 20th centuries (p. 50), comparison of growing season temperatures in the Willamette Valley and Burgundy from 1980 to 2010 (p. 228), and the variability of harvest dates in Burgundy since 1945 (p. 61).

The book is well and reliably sourced overall, albeit based primarily on secondary sources, and on interviews. Occasionally circumstances and events are reported or summarized imperfectly, or in ways that create incorrect impressions. On p. 237, In Search . . . says that “Pinot Noir was first planted [in the Russian River valley of California] in the 1960s after Joe Rochioli asked the University of California, Davis for advice how best to use the land; they advised planting grapevines.” This is not quite accurate (although my own book, North American Pinot Noir, is cited as its source). In truth, Rochioli was growing grapes well before 1960, but not pinot noir, which Rochioli introduced only after UC Extension advisers, asked to install a thermograph in his vineyard, determined that cool-climate varieties like pinot and chardonnay would work better in Rochioli’s site than the colombard and zinfandel on which he had first relied. On p. 244, reporting on the climate of Santa Barbara County’s coastal valleys, In Search . . . says that “cooling breezes enter directly from the ocean and are channeled along by the mountains, and there is strong diurnal variation.” (My emphasis.) In truth, there is much lower diurnal variation in these valleys than in most other pinot-friendly regions of California; the mesoclimatic hallmark of the southern central coast is relatively low daytime highs and relatively mild overnight lows. On p. 217, the caption for the table is misleading: the origin of many Oregonian pinot noir selection does not really “remain unknown;” growers were simply given an opportunity, when surveyed, to omit this information, which then appeared in the state statistics as “did not report.” Most instances of “did not report” are actually either Pommard or Wädenswil.

In his final chapter, Lewis (in his own words) “stick[s] [his] head into the lion’s den.” In fifteen pages, he attempts (1) to define what differentiates pinot noirs from other great red wines, (2) to isolate what differentiates non-Burgundian pinot noir from red Burgundies, (3) to answer the question he explored in earlier chapters about the relative importance of terroir and winemaking, which emerges as an essay-within-an-essay comparing DRC and Leroy versions of Romanée St-Vivant and Richebourg (4) to identify the greatest Burgundian cru (no surprise perhaps that “nothing can rival La Romanée Conti”), (4) to define “perfection” in pinot noir, and (5) to answer through tasting which of an eclectic selection of pinots succeeded best against the aforementioned definition of perfection. I read these pages hoping for epiphanies. Lewin’s familiarity with the turf and impressive command of relevant data were on display, and some interesting observations are recorded – viz, 1995 Williams Selyem Rochioli Vineyard “is a vindication of the notion that Pinot Noir can have alternative typicities . . . [which can be] equally expressive of the grape” and “there was more convergence of wine style [in the “Grand Tasting” with which the book concludes] than you detect when you compare current vintages.” But I have to confess that the argument seemed ruminative to me, and ultimately underwhelming.
Saying that “Pinot noir shows its most delicious side when aging,” a proposition with which I often agree, Lewin ends up with heavy emphasis on felicitous ageability as an indicator of wine’s hedonic worth, or at least of pinot noir’s hedonic worth. At one point he cites the auction prices of Domaine de la Romanée Conti as evidence that the market thinks Burgundies age more felicitously than any Bordeaux, and he stops just shy of embracing the notion that wines built to age do not show well when young. Surely, however, the stratospheric prices commanded by DRC wines (vis-à-vis those asked for Grand Cru Bordeaux) are primarily a function of reputation vs. minuscule supply. There is also the problem that “essence” arguments about defining properties of any region’s wine, or wine in any given region from a single grape, that are based almost exclusively on the properties of its rarest and most expensive exemplars, risk confusing a few majestic trees for the forest.

Occasionally good books seem needlessly flawed by shortcomings associated with editing, design and/or production. Throughout In Search . . . photographs display a mauve tint, and some are washed out, e.g., p. 82. Important topical transitions are sometimes made without benefit of appropriate subheads; e.g., the shift made on p. 313 from a discussion of Australia to information about South Africa. Often text is neither centered nor aligned in the cells of tables; in the table on p. 132 Rheinhessen is unnecessarily truncated to “Rheinhess—”. The table on p. 123 would have been clearer if “relative distance to Beaune” had not been expressed in miles; what is apparently meant here is the rough equivalent in miles of differences in latitude, but I had to puzzle this out.

Overall, this is a very serious and interesting book on a matter of growing interest, especially as pinot noir looks more and more like a major international variety.

John Winthrop Haeger
Stanford University
jwhaeger@gmail.com
doi:10.1017/jwe.2013.8

Jancis Robinson MW has done it again! In addition to being one of the world’s best known wine writers and broadcasters, including being the wine correspondent for the UK’s Financial Times since 1989, Jancis has raised the bar once more for global wine reference books. She published The Oxford Companion to Wine in 1994 and shepherded it through two further editions in 1999 and 2006. Then in 2007 she published with Hugh Johnson the 6th edition of The World Atlas of Wine, which tells us where winegrapes are grown. And now, after four years of arduous research, she has published–with co-authors Julia Harding MW and José Vouillamoz–the definitive book on which winegrape varieties are grown around the world. It replaces Jancis Robinson’s much more modest but still popular 1986 consumer guide to grape varieties entitled Vines, Grapes and Wine.

This is an extraordinary addition to the literature on varieties in several dimensions: size (1,280 pages and 7lbs/3kgs!), beauty (it includes full-page color reproductions of 80 of the 500 paintings produced for the 7-volume, 3,200 page book, Ampélographie, by Pierre Viala and Vitor Vermorel published between 1901 and 1910), accessibility (because it’s senior writer is an exceptional journalist), originality (e.g., their vine family of 14 pedigree diagrams and their ancestors), and respect for the scientific literature (a 20-page bibliography up to mid-2011). The authors could have made the book even longer, as there are perhaps 10,000 grape varieties, but they confined themselves to those grape varieties they could find to be still used in making wine in commercial quantities. A preview of the volume is available at www.winegrapes.org.

The timing of this book is no accident: in recent years DNA profiling has added hugely to traditional ampelography (which has been based on physical character- istics of the vine’s appearance). Scientific publications from that vine profiling began in South Australia in 1993 and in California at UC Davis in 1997, and have surged ahead in the fifteen years since then. When one parent is missing, it is still possible for DNA profiling to identify parent-offspring relationships. And even when both parents are unknown, a probabilistic approach can be used to detect siblings, grandparents or grandchildren. The latter has been done for Syrah, for example: its parents were discovered barely a decade ago to be Mondeuse Blanche and Dureza, its great grandparent is very likely Pinot (according to Vouillamoz and Grando 2006), and it is either a grandchild or a half-sibling of both Mondeuse Noire and Viognier.

In addition to it being much easier to prepare such a book now that DNA profiling technology is available, the book is timely also because of the growing demand for this stock of knowledge. One reason has to do with globalization. Numerous countries are looking to expand their wine exports, and one way to successfully compete in a crowded marketplace is to differentiate one’s product via varietal choice. Consumers, too are always looking for new types of wines, and more so as homogenization of product ranges proceeds with multinationalization of both wineries and wine retailers. A second reason for this increased demand for information on what grape varieties are growing where relates to the perceived need to adapt to climate change. Especially in the New World, where regulations do not restrict varietal choice, winegrowers are continually on the lookout for attractive varieties that do well in climates similar to what they expect theirs to become in the decades ahead. Thirdly, the biotechnology revolution is providing breeders with new opportunities, which is increasing the interest in exploring traits of little-known varieties. And fourth, the book is able to help those seeking to preserve rare indigenous varieties, especially where only old vines survive.

Some varieties are found to be not as rare as previously believed, however. For example, Zinfandel is genetically identical not only to Pimitivo (in Puglia) but also Tribidrag (in Croatia). Also identical are the two ‘varieties’ in the Liguria region, near Genoa, of Pigato and Vermentino–which are also genetically identical to Favorita (in Piedmont) and Rolle (in southern France).

The 1,368 ‘prime’ varieties currently believed to be grown commercially are listed at the front of the book according to their country of origin. Italy has the most (377), followed by France (204) and Spain (84), and then four other countries contribute just under 80 varieties each (Greece, Portugal, Germany, and the United States). Most of the rest are from Southeastern Europe and the countries surrounding the Black and Caspian seas. There are many more varieties mentioned apart from these prime ones, carefully listed in the entry of each prime variety as a synonym. Also shown in each prime variety entry are the varieties commonly mistaken for that prime one. Some readers might be surprised to see that Pinot Noir, Pinot Gris and Pinot Blanc are not listed as prime varieties. This is because they are mutations of the single variety Pinot, rather than distinct varieties: they can’t be distinguished by standard DNA profiling, only by their skin color.

There is a very helpful Introduction that provides a basic guide for non-scientists to the vine family, mutations and clones, vine breeding to produce crosses or hybrids, pests and diseases and, most importantly, DNA profiling. A brief history of the gradual geographic spread of viniculture over the past ten-plus millennia also is provided.
José Vouillamoz complements the other two co-authors of this book in that he is a botanist and grape geneticist who trained in grape DNA profiling and parentage analyses in Carole Meredith’s lab at the University of California in Davis. He then worked in Trentino, Italy with Stella Grando and since 2004 has been an independent researcher at Switzerland’s University of Neuchâtel. His achievements include the parentage of Sangiovese, the family tree of Nebbiolo, and the expanded genealogy of Syrah and its relationship to Pinot. Together with archaeologist Patrick McGovern of the University of Pennsylvania and colleagues from Georgia, Armenia and Turkey, he was the first to establish the DNA profiles of grape varieties from the Near East. He thus brings great scientific depth to this venture.
Thus this book is likely to be, for the foreseeable future, the ultimate guide to understanding the grape vines that contribute so much to our enjoyment of wine. Further DNA profiling undoubtedly will add to our knowledge stock over time, but for non-specialists there is more than could ever be hoped for in this single volume.

Reference
Vouillamoz, J.F. and M.S. GRANDO (2006),
‘Genealogy of Wine Grape Cultivars: Pinot is related to Syrah’,
Heredity 97(2): 102–10.

Kym Anderson
University of Adelaide
and
Australian National University
kym.anderson@adelaide.edu.au
doi:10.1017/jwe.2013.9

This book has great aspirations: its purpose, according to Robin von Holdt in the Foreword, is to “de-myth the bunk”, or in other words to replace “the confetti of awards handed out in wine competitions” and the “jargon and small print”; with the opinions of “a panel of the world’s greatest tasters” adept at “professional judging”. Can the book live up to these expectations? Their proof that it can is that “the winning wines are largely sold out!”

Procedurally, it works as follows: there are two judging panels, with wine tasted in categories (whites, reds, etc.), and the whole process is accomplished over five days. There are three judges in each panel with an overall Chair (Tim Atkin MW from the UK). Of the seven judges, three are from the UK, two from South Africa (one a wine maker who was not allowed to judge his own wine) and one each from Sweden and Italy. The tasting protocols include unsighted tasting; the temperature at which the wine is served (red, fortified and port at approximately 19 °C; white, rosé and dessert wines at approximately 13 °C; sparkling wines at approximately 7 °C); tasted both decanted (12 hours red/2 hours white) and from the bottle (15 minutes), with judges made aware of the duplicate wines; judges cannot discuss the wines during tasting; and top scoring wines are tasted up to three times. The purpose of the whole process is to ensure that international best practice is followed, and an audit and good governance report is publicly available.

Wines are entered into the competition, so it is entirely possible that the selection does not actually represent South Africa’s top 100 wines. A total of 366 wines were tasted (down from 390 last year), which represents only a small proportion of the 5000 odd wines available in the retail market in South Africa. Something like a quarter of the red wines entered made the cut into the top 100 (51 of the 100), a third of the white wines, fewer than a fifth of the Méthode Cap Classique, three of the four natural sweet wines and seven of the nine port style wines. The wines are listed alphabetically in the book (i.e. they are not ranked). A quick look at the selection reveals that some of my perennial favorites (Beaumont, Kanonkop, Meerlust, Uiterwyk – De Waal Wines these days -, Vriesenhof, Waterford) are not represented. Is this because they did not make the cut, or were they just not entered?

Apart from the judging protocol, the front matter includes a resume of each of the judges, a listing of the winners (the top 100 wines) by cultivar and style, and approximate prices for white wines that sell for less than R100 (about $12 at the current exchange rate) and R120 for red wines. Each entry provides information about the winery, about the grapes, the wine making process and the wine itself (including the alcohol level), and extracts from the judges’ comments and the winemaker notes. The judges are evidently fond of higher alcohol wines: only 11 of the 39 whites have an alcohol level of below 13.5% and only 15 of the 51 reds have an alcohol level of below 14.25%. A full 80 of the top 100 wines come off irrigated vineyards.

The last part of the book reports on a “Wine list challenge” where 32 restaurants throughout the country are singled out for their meritorious wine lists. This is followed by some interesting essays on a wide range of wine related topics, some general industry information and maps of the wine producing regions and a glossary of wine terms.

Nick Vink
University of Stellenbosch
nv@sun.ac.za
doi:10.1017/jwe.2013.10

Authors Elmarie Swart and Izak Smit have produced a 200-page book whose purpose is to provide a one-volume overview of the South African industry with a very specific focus on terroir, using the concept of geographical ‘pockets’ to describe sub-districts of South Africa’s Wine of Origin classification of regions.
The book comes in five chapters, starting with an overview of the industry, then the descriptions of the ‘pockets’, a chapter on wine tasting, one on wine buying, and finally a short chapter on selected aspects of ‘local knowledge’.
Chapter 1 (A recent overview of the South African wine industry) contains some useful information that explains the industry in its historical context and in the current context with its focus on social upliftment and environmentally responsible wine production. Most useful, however, is the sections on the unique geographical, climate and grape variety combinations that make up terroir in the South African industry, and the description of the timeline as the grapes grow and ripen and become ready for harvesting.

There are two things I don’t like about Chapter 2, with its description of the different wine regions. First, as mentioned, the authors refer to sub-district demarcations as geographical ‘pockets’ (so, for example, the Stellenbosch region consists of the ‘Polkadraai pocket’ the ‘Stellenbosch Kloof pocket’ and 10 more. As a quick look at Google will attest, this is not a term that has caught on in South Africa, nor is it used anywhere else in the world. Second, in each ‘pocket’ the ‘top producers’ and their ‘flagship wines’ are identified and named. However, the reader is not told on what basis this selection is made.

Nevertheless, this chapter has many strengths, not least of which is the magnificent photographs (not confined only to this chapter – they are a feature of the whole book). Then there is the advice to travellers (along with GPS coordinates) and the very knowledgeable descriptions of each area and its wines. This description makes up the bulk of the book, and the chapter is rounded off with a description of garagiste wine making in South Africa, of brandy production, and of sparkling wine.

Chapter 3 has a section on wine tasting and understanding of wine styles, and a short description of the prevalent styles for the different wine cultivars. Chapter 4 is a bit more of a potpourri of issues with some tips on wine collecting – but nothing on wine selling, probably because the writer assumes all wines that are collected are primarily for own consumption rather than as an investment. This despite the title of the chapter: Profit and Pleasure. The obligatory ‘food and wine pairing’ section follows. Chapter 5 contains some useful tips for travellers.

Nick Vink
University of Stellenbosch
nv@sun.ac.za
doi:10.1017/jwe.2013.11

Of course any book that covers wines and wineries in South Africa has to compete with the Platter Guide, an annual offering that scores and provides tasting notes on every wine that is commercially available in the country and provides useful information on each of the wine farms, where to stay and where to eat in the winelands. First published in 1980 by John Platter under the title John Platter’s Book of South African Wines, the first edition provided tasting notes on “over 1000 wines”, and came in at 156 pages. Now, 30 years later, the book is over 600 pages and covers literally thousands of different wines. The Platter Guide is not without controversy, as tasting is not blind until award winners are selected. During this process, the members of the tasting team identify what they regard as the best wines, which are then shortlisted and re-tasted by a panel, which then identifies what they regard as the best wines in a South African context, and these are awarded five stars. These days, the industry waits for the end-of-year announcement of the five-star wines with as much anticipation as the Oscars. The number of pages of the Platter Guide is probably as good a predictor of quantity in the South African industry: and the number of five star wines the most reliable predictor of quality.

Discerning readers will know that they have to benchmark their taste against the Guide, whose main virtue is consistency of opinion from year to year. Prefer a 31⁄2 star Chardonnay to a more expensive 41⁄2 star offering? The Guide allows you to identify every other 31⁄2 star Chardonnay on the market, and tells you where to find them. Want to indulge in a 5-star offering? Just make sure you get there early! Another handy feature of the Guide is the “Wines of the Year” section, where the 5 star wines are identified along with a “Superquaffer of the year” award, an “Exceptionally drinkable and well priced” selection and a “Buy now drink later” selection. There is even a section on other wine awards, including the “Top 100 SA Wines”!

Each entry in the Guide contains a plethora of information in the case of wine farms: location of the winery (together with GPS coordinates these days), when the winery was established, date of first bottling, trading hours, size of the farm and area under vineyards, other amenities (tourist attractions, restaurants, accessibility for the physically challenged), name of owners, name of winemaker and viticulturist where appropriate, length of their service and so forth. This is followed by a narrative section providing background to the farm, the current vintage, winemaking specifics, awards won, etc. Then the serious business of tasting, rating and annotating is recorded, with all wines at 4 stars and higher typeset in red to enable easier identification. Those with the patience to trawl through back copies of the Guide will end up knowing as much about a specific winery as it is possible to know: imagine 30 years of annotations about your favorite winey, be it Kanonkop or Meerlust (both awarded five stars for their Cabernet in the 1982 edition) or Simonsig, whose highest rating for a dry wine in the 1982 edition was three stars (but four stars for their “slightly sweet” Gewürztraminer) but now receive 4 and 41⁄2 stars for almost their entire offering.

The current print run is 40,000 per annum, and total sales are in excess of 1.4 million, an enormous number in the context of South Africa’s population and given that the Platter’s Guide is not available in the U.S. It is safe to say that the Guide has guided South African wine drinking habits for decades now, and it is hard to imagine the industry without it.

Nick Vink
University of Stellenbosch
nv@sun.ac.za
doi:10.1017/jwe.2013.12

The Economics of Beer, edited by Johan F.M. Swinnen, is a collection of some 18 essays on a range of topics in the economics of beer; from its long history to its current role in emerging markets, from its production to its consumption. In the Preface, the editor Johan F.M. Swinnen explains that many of these essays were outgrowths of a conference on Beeronomics in Leuven in 2009, while other essays were added to round out the volume. Both that conference and this book were reflections of interest in the economics of beer, inspired by the longstanding example of wine economics, by the fact that beer is the largest selling alcoholic beverage, and by a number of aspects of the industry that have long intrigued economists.

To take one example, in the U.S., the brewing industry has undergone the largest increase in national concentration of any major industry. From four firm concen- tration of less than 20 percent in 1947, the largest four brewers in the U.S. now account for more than 90 percent of domestic production. The reasons for this trans- formation lie in substantial changes in the economies associated with production, but perhaps more importantly, in advertising. The ability of advertising to increase demand altered the focus of competition, further increased economies of large scale, and led to the demise of unsuccessful advertisers and smaller brewers generally.

More recently, the product itself has undergone change, with the advent of imports and craft beers. While still modest in overall share, these have captured consumer tastes and preferences at odds with the more homogeneous product best produced (and advertised) by the large national brewers. Overall market growth in recent years has largely been in the import and craft segments, forcing the major brewers to confront taste and production issues different from those that gave rise to their dominance. That has not gone well for them. The major brewers have increasingly resorted to mergers and acquisitions among themselves, across national boundaries, and with some smaller labels, actions that have triggered an array of interesting public policy questions.

Such issues make the brewing industry endlessly fascinating, and this volume does not disappoint in its effort to capture that. It provides a truly panoramic view of major issues in the brewing industry–panoramic in the sense of covering a remark- ably wide range of topics, panoramic in the sense of analyzing beer and brewing in a many countries with diverse experiences, and panoramic in the sense of providing a historic as well as contemporary perspective. This is an ambitious agenda for any book, and with this one, the editor and authors have succeeded.

The essays in this volume are mostly relatively short, befitting an agenda of many topics. They take different approaches to their respective questions, as the infor- mation allows and the authors see fit. The chapters themselves are written by a large number of different authors (although Swinnen himself is author or co-author of six  of the chapters). A number of the chapter authors have previously written on beer and brewing.

The book itself is divided into four main sections, each comprised of several chapters. In the first section, “History,” five essays describe a rich history of beer in various societies, highlighting several themes that are repeated in later essays on the modern brewing industry. Poelmans and Swinnen lead off with “A Brief Economic History of Beer,” beginning with ancient societies and extending up until the present. It emphasizes the crucial roles of technological change on the one hand and government regulation on the other, on the evolution of the industry. In chapter 2, “Beer Production, Profits, and Public Authorities in the Renaissance,” Unger offers further insight into a important period characterized by the consolidation of brewers, the rise of concern over pollution from production, and the effect of input costs and uncertainty. German regulation of “quality and purity” beginning in the 1500s and extending into the 20th century is the focus of the next chapter. Entitled “Standards and International Trade Integration: A Historical Review of the German Reinheitsgebot, van Tongeren analyzes how this regulation served to restrict entry and raise prices. The next two chapters focus on the British and Belgian markets respectively, countries where beer has been unusually important. In “Brewing Nation: War, Taxes, and the Growth of the British Beer Industry in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries,” Nye explains why beer became that country’s drink of choice, and how and why the government facilitated the emergence of a brewing oligopoly. In chapter 5, entitled “Belgian Beers: Where History Meets Globalization,” Persyn, Swinnen, and Vanormelingen describe both the plethora of Belgian beers and the emergence of InBev and Trappist as dominant producers.

Part II is devoted to issues of consumption. It begins with Freeman’s “Cold Comfort in Hard Times: Do People Drink More Beer in Hard Times?” which offers a statistical analysis debunking the proposition that economic depression results in more beer consumption. In “Beer Drinking Nations: The Determinants of Global Beer Consumption,” Colen and Swinnen provide data and discussion of major trends in beer drinking across countries and over time, including reasons why beer lost its dominant status in some important countries. The next chapter – “Recent Economic Developments in the Import and Craft Segments of the US Brewing Industry,” by Tremblay and Tremblay, discuss these newly important brews, including the extent of substitution with mainstream beers and the advantages vs. disadvantages of their small size. McCluskey and Shreay discuss individuals’ adap- tation to different beers in “Culture and Beer Preferences,” recounting in particular responses of international students in the US to domestic beers.

The industrial organization of the brewing industry occupies Part III of this volume. In chapter 10, “Competition Policy Towards Brewing: Rational Response to Market Power or Unwarranted Interference in Efficient Markets?”, Slade surveys a range of issues but focuses on the UK’s required divestiture of public houses in 1989, concluding that it was likely a misguided policy. Elzinga and Swisher discuss reasons for beer industry consolidation and for policy approval for mergers in the US in their chapter “Developments in US Merger Policy: The Beer Industry as Lens.” The title of Chapter 12 is “The Growth of Television and the Decline of Local Beer.” In it, George utilizes historical variation in the availability of television across regions of the U.S. to help determine its importance in the decline of local brews, concluding that while television played a role, it was not a dominant one. In “Determinants of the Concentration in Beer Markets in Germany and the United States: 1950–2005,” Adams examines the reasons that the industries in those two countries evolved quite differently. And in chapter 14, “How the East Was Won: The Foreign Takeover of the Eastern European Brewing Industry,” Swinnen and Van Herck document the progressive encroachment of Western brewers into Eastern European markets, largely via acquisition.

The final substantive part of this book examines the new markets for beer in three of the four BRIC countries. In “Beer Battles in China: The Struggle over the World’s Largest Beer Market,” Bai, Huang, Rozelle, and Boswell recount the long history of beer in China, from its ancient beer culture, through its growth and consolidation, to the (sometimes problematic) joint ventures of the present time. Russia is the world’s third largest beer market, and its long history, recent explosive growth, and associated regulatory issues are all discussed in Chapter 15, “From Vodka to Baltika: A Perfect Storm in the Russian Beer Market,” by Deconinck and Swinnen. The effects of India’s ambivalent attitude toward alcohol, its regulatory environment, and traditional quality issues are discussed by Arora, Bhaskar, Minten, and Vandeplas in “Opening the Beer Gates: How Liberalization Caused Growth in India’s Beer Market.”

In their concluding section “Beeronomics: The Economics of Beer and Brewing,” Swinnen and Vandemoortele summarize and distill lessons from the seventeen chapters that preceded. They note the significant changes in the product and its con- sumption over time, changes in economies of scale, changes in concentration and integration in the industry, changes in regulations and taxes that impact brewers, among other significant issues.

While the authors and editors do not quite state it this way, it would seem that change might be a constant theme in the economics of beer and the industry that produces it. In country after country, the industry has undergone significant change. The product itself, while readily recognizable, has reflected changes in technology and tastes over time. And policy measures have changed over time, and often in turn they have changed the industry. Some tax and regulatory policies have favored the beer industry (the ban on vodka advertising in Russia), while others have adversely affected it (as when beer sales are viewed as a source of tax revenues). Some have blessed consolidation (merger policy in the US) while in other cases policy has forced deconcentration (vertical deintegration in the UK).

It is, of course, difficult to ensure that a collection of essays leaves no niches unfilled, and this volume is no different in that regard. Some might wish for a more direct and comprehensive discussion of the power of advertising expenditures to transform this industry. Similarly, readers might benefit from further discussion of the business challenges and strategies that now face mainstream brewers. And a truly comprehensive analysis might include discussion of the adverse health and social effects associated with beer consumption. The omission of the latter seems particularly unfortunate, since one of the major changes of the last 30 years or so has been the movement to raise the drinking age in the U.S. and to hold drinkers more accountable for their actions (as in drunk driving laws); but despite all those, the problem remains a scourge in some countries.

But as noted, such caveats may not be entirely fair since the book does not claim to present a truly comprehensive picture of the beer industry. On the other hand, a volume entitled “The Economics of Beer” might suggest to some readers that they will come away with such a comprehensive portrayal, when, inevitably, that is not quite the case. While quibbling about such things, one might question the statement on the back cover of this book (more likely the product of the publisher’s enthusiasm) that reads “This book is the first economic analysis of the beer market and brewing industry.” This statement would not seem to recognize Tremblay and Tremblay’s excellent “The U.S. Brewing Industry: Data and Economic Analysis” (2004).

But quibbles over the title and jacket cover should not distract from the real point. This book has enormous strengths not found elsewhere. It covers a range of topics that is truly exceptional. It incorporates diverse approaches ranging from descriptive history to regression analysis of new data. Its fascinating histories of beer would be difficult to find elsewhere, much less to compile oneself. The same can be said for its country studies, each of which clearly took considerable time to compile. Its new research is often creative and provocative, suggesting opportunities for further study. All of the essays are well written and easy to grasp. Such a volume is a considerable contribution to the literature. It is both a pleasure to read and is well worth reading by students of industry and economics interested in one of an intriguing and important industry, both in history and at present.

Reference
Tremblay, V.J. and Tremblay, C.H. (2004). The US Brewing Industry:
Data and Economic Analysis. Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press.

John Kwoka
Northeastern University
j.kwoka@neu.edu
doi:10.1017/jwe.2013.13

Boom Varietal, a full-length documentary about Argentina’s Malbec wine, made its debut at the Bend Film Festival in Oregon in October of 2011. Since that time it has been screened at more than twenty indie film festivals throughout the United States. The project is a joint effort of Kirk Ermisch, President of the Southern Wine Group and principal owner of Bodega Calle in Mendoza, Argentina, and Sky Pinnick, owner of Rage Productions. The film was shot on location around Mendoza, Argentina over an eight-week period of time.

Malbec is a wine that we all know a little bit about. Those schooled in French wine will remember it as one of the classic Bordeaux blending grapes. It is a wine produced in a New World style, using Old World grapes, in an emerging wine country. Most restaurants list a single Malbec on their wine menu and, even given their mark-up, these wines often represent a reasonably priced accompaniment to dinner asking for a full-bodied red wine. They are generally neither too robust nor too light when trying to satisfy a mixed array of palates. Many a consumer has stocked a home bar in preparation for a party with Malbec. In brief, Malbec generally fits in a consumer’s budget and most red wine drinkers at the table or party will be pleased with the choice.

Malbec was introduced to Argentina by the French agricultural engineer Michel Pouget in 1868. The grape variety is actually known as Cot which originated in the Province of Quercy in France. Production was centered in Cahors and, though production is limited, much of the Cot or Malbec wine coming out of France is labeled and marketed as Cahors (Robinson, Harding, and Vouillamoz, 2012, pp. 272–274). Today it is the most widely planted good-quality grape variety in Argentina with over one third of the red wine produced in Argentina being Malbec (Wines of Argentina Website, 2012).

When one thinks of wine movies, the list of memorable films is not that long. There are two well-known fictional movies that do come to mind. The first of these is Sideways (2004) that really put California Pinot Noir on the map. The second movie is Bottle Shock (2008). Bottle Shock is loosely based on the American point of view of events leading up to the 1976 Judgment of Paris. On the documentary side the film that comes to mind is Mondovino (2004). The film, Mondovino, is probably most remembered for its length and its poor film quality. The theme of Mondovino is a look at the globalization and corporatization of the wine industry. Though Boom Varietal is also a documentary, its entertainment value is much closer to Sideways and Bottle Shock than it is to Mondovino. At seventy-two minutes in length, it provides for comfortable documentary viewing.

Truth in reviewing requires that this writer mention that he enjoyed a bottle of the Ca de Calle Reserva 2010 Malbec Blend from Bodega Calle while first screening the film. The bottle was provided by the Southern Wine Group. Since the reviewer was obviously going to enjoy a glass (or more) of Malbec while reviewing the film, this should only be considered a distributional issue and not one that affects the efficiency of this review. The Southern Wine Group just happened to answer the question of what Malbec to enjoy when they set the price of their bottle at zero.

The movie itself is quite easy to describe: breath-taking cinematography, easy- listening music, informative interviews, and a story of family. The cinematography is provided by the vineyards and topography of Argentina. The instrumental music is provided by Franchot Tone. The interviews are provided by thirty-eight individ- uals having a connection to the Argentinian Malbec industry. The story of family and tradition comes out in many of these interviews. Though the film’s executive producer is a wine distributor and winery owner, one never gets the feeling during the film that the marketing people are tapping you on the shoulder whispering, “Buy more Malbec,” in your ear.

Through the interviews with various individuals connected to the Argentinian wine industry one learns about the history of Malbec and gets a glimpse at what the future might hold for the wine. As mentioned above, the cast of interviewees is both large and diverse including: producers, wine shop managers, field workers, vineyard owners, winemakers, wine economists, wine investors, wine critics, and wine drinkers. The movie is appropriately named Boom Varietal. As the firm opens we learn from Kirk Ermisch about the story of Malbec that is similar in nature to the rise and eventual decline of Merlot and Australian Shiraz. Initially both wines were available in modest quantity and high quality. Their popularity, however, caused an increase in production to supply consumer demand at the cost of quality. This is an issue that wine economist, author, and blogger, Mike Veseth, returns us to later in the film. If and when the popularity of Malbec begins to fade is yet to be determined and one of the points of this documentary.

Early in the film Santiago Achaval, President of Achaval Ferrer Wines, walks the viewer through the early history of Malbec in Argentina. Malbec came to Argentina in the mid-nineteenth century but Argentina’s claim to being the seat of Malbec occurred later in that century when much of the European Malbec crop was wiped out by Phylloxera. From there the story fast forwards to the time period 1950–1980. At this time many of the largest wineries in Argentina were owned by the State. It is at this point in the film that we are given a pictorial tour of the State-owned Giol Winery that at one time was the largest winery in the world. Wine was produced in quantity, not for its quality. In the 1980s the government got out of the wine business, closing the Giol Winery. This opened the door to small boutique wineries that were primarily family undertakings, and much of the current wine production of Argentinian Malbec is a story of family. Part of the story we hear comes from fieldworker Cesar Liberato. Liberato is dedicated to his work. He tells of his family’s involvement with vineyards over several generations and how working the fields is in his blood and in his soul. He notes that at one time Malbec was considered a bad grape, but now he considers it the queen of Argentinian grapes. We also meet brothers Pablo and Hector Durigutti of Familia Durigutti Wine. We learn of their family’s history as Italian emigrants who found work in the early vineyards of Argentina. To this day they say that it is the hardworking attitude of their grandparents that drives them. They get up early and work late to produce a product of quality that the world will enjoy.

As noted in the film, several of the current wine growers and winemakers are fourth or fifth- generation producers of wine. It is here in the film that we meet the father and son team of Carlos and Adolfo Basso who own and run Vina Amalia. Carlos discusses his early career working at large corporate run wineries but now also demonstrates the passion that he has for his life, owning with his son, a small family run operation. Through technical improvements in the 1990s, these family run wineries and vineyards began producing a product that satisfied the inter- national consumer, particularly the consumer in the United States. It is this point in time when Malbec began its ascent to that of a boom wine. It is now known in this country as Argentina’s signature varietal. Mike Veseth comments in the film, that Argentina is the OPEC of Malbec for the United States.
As was mentioned earlier, the topography of Argentina makes for excellent cinematography in a film. It also, however, presents the perfect climate for growing Malbec that wants a warm dry environment. Angel Mendoza, owner of Domaine St. Diego, explains to the viewer that at 32 to 33 degrees south latitude combined with mountains that allow for a contrast in temperatures during the day and night, Malbec seems to thrive in many parts of Argentina. These same weather patterns that normally allow for Malbec to thrive can quickly turn fickle and produce hail that can wipe out grape crops. Guillermo Donnerstag of Familia Marguery esti- mates that a five minute hail storm can cause a one million dollar crop loss in his vineyard. British Columbia expatriate and owner of Cantinian Wines, Dana Rothkop, lets us know that changing weather conditions cause both exhilaration and fear at the same time. He likens dealing with the weather to riding a rollercoaster.

The story of family and the enthusiasm that the interviewees in the film show for Argentinian Malbec is a compelling story. It is equally compelling because even though there are few people that drink Malbec exclusively, everyone seems to drink some Malbec. It is an easy drinking wine that is still presented in the market place at a great value. Santiago Achaval puts it well when he uses an analogy provided by his father, a physician, that people catch the wine bug. The wine bug clearly has all the symptoms of a virus. It’s contagious, it’s incurable, and it does a lot of damage to one’s checking account. Carolyn Gallagher, CEO of Uncorking Argentina Wine Tours, points out that the bug for Argentinian wine really took off in about 2005 when people started seeing Argentina as a wine tour destination. They saw Argentina as a place to relax and have fun as opposed to a country of political unrest. She notes that this new perception was greatly aided by the favorable comments by wine media across the world.

Not everything presented in the documentary paints a rosy picture of the rise of the Argentinian Malbec industry. Briefly presented is the story of Canadian investors Chris Rush and Joel Cyr, who attempted to be absentee owners of a vineyard in Argentina. Their idea of getting in on the ground floor of an investment deal by being land owners of grape producing property failed. Likewise, the picture provided by New York City wine bar manager Nicole Ciani is not as positive as other aspects of the film. As a wine bar manager she understands Malbec, but she is really not a big fan and isn’t convinced that she needs to push it at her establishment.

The film ends with an unanswered question, “What is the future of Argentinian Malbec?” Several of the interviewees in the film point out that this is a very tenuous question. Santiago Achaval stresses that the international market for a quality wine product is very demanding. Winemakers cannot rest on their past successes. A quality product always needs to be produced. Kirk Ermisch notes that Argentina has always dealt with domestic inflation and inflated prices can very quickly reduce international demand for Argentinian wine. Adolfo Basso is very aware that Argentina has a history of changes in government policy toward business and economic activity and a change in government policy could radically alter the production and sale of wine in Argentina. Mike Veseth notes that wine drinkers go for fads, and he states it’s too soon to tell whether Malbec is permanent versus a trend. Dana Rothkop compares what has happened to Malbec to the real estate bubble in the United States. Staying with the theme and title of the film he notes that the story of Malbec is the story of a boom and booms can end. Watch the film and determine for yourself if Argentine Malbec is a Boom Varietal, here today and gone tomorrow, or if it is here to stay.

References
Miller, R. (Director) (2008). Bottle Shock. Screenplay by Jody Savin and Randall Miller. Freestyle Releasing, 110 minutes

Nossiter, J. (Director) (2004). Mondovino. Screenplay by Jonathan Nossiter. Velocity/ Thinkfilm, 135 minutes

Payne, A. (Director) (2004). Sideways. Screenplay by Alexander Payne and Jim Taylor. Based on the novel by Rex Picket. Fox Searchlight Pictures. 123 minutes

Robinson, J., Harding, J. and Vouillamoz, J. (2012). Wine Grapes: A Complete Guide to 1,368 Vine Varieties, including their Origins and Flavours. New York, NY: HarperCollins Publishers

Wines of Argentina (2012). www.winesofargentina.org

David J. Hoaas
Centenary College
dhoaas@centenary.edu
doi:10.1017/jwe.2013.14

Most winegrowers want to practice sustainable winegrowing but are not aware of any simple definition of sustainability or how to practice it. This book serves to provide the concepts and perspectives needed to address the complex issues associated with sustainable winegrowing. The author, Clifford P. Ohmart, has the background and experience to shed light on this topic perhaps better than anyone else. His career has included three different but related paths that prepared him to address sustainability with a broad perspective. He has a basic science background with a PhD from University of California at Berkeley where he specialized in integrated pest management (IPM) and insect ecology and has published extensively on these topics. He has also worked as a private consultant to growers to develop integrated pest management strategies and as a writer of a bimonthly column on sustainable winegrowing for Wines and Vines magazine since 1998. In his third career path he worked with large groups of winegrowers to develop regionally sustainable winegrowing programs. Such work resulted in the Lodi Winegrowers Workbook (a self-assessment of sustainable winegrowing practices) and the Lodi Rules for Sustainable Winegrowing, a third party certified sustainable winegrowing program.

The book is divided into two broad parts. The first, composed of five chapters, is devoted to defining and understanding sustainable winegrowing. The second, composed of ten chapters, addresses the practice of sustainable winegrowing from a holistic viewpoint. There are over 60 figures that enhance the text and plenty of references for further reading. The book is written in a very approachable style even for those without a background in farming or viticulture. What is particularly refreshing about Dr. Ohmart’s approach is that he understands that growing quality winegrapes sustainably is based on sound ecological principles and understanding of ecosystem dynamics. Early on in the book he indicates that the challenges to development of a regional sustainable winegrape growing program are to define it, to implement it and to measure its effects. While there is no simple definition for sustainable winegrowing the one he uses was developed by the California wine industry and is referred to as the “3E’s” of sustainability. Stated simply, they are practices which are environmentally sound, socially equitable and economically feasible. Sustainable winegrape growing considers soil building as the foundation, minimizes off-farm inputs and concerns itself with the health of the environment and social equity.

Ohmart points out that farming is not “natural” – farmland is less ecologically diverse than, for example, forested land and farming leaves a definite environmental footprint. He views sustainable winegrowing as a continuum from less sustainable to more sustainable but recognizes that complete sustainability is not possible. He compares organic farming to sustainable farming emphasizing the points in common such as minimizing soil erosion, keeping water free of contaminants and building soil fertility, but also points out the differences as organic farming uses no synthetic fertilizers or pesticides. No nationwide certification program for sus- tainable viticulture exists, however there are regional programs. Organic farming and national organic standards have been codified for over a decade. Interestingly, perhaps because these organic standards were developed so long ago, some environmental concerns are largely not addressed by organic standards as they are in most sustainable farming programs. A chapter is devoted to the principles of biodynamic farming and its emphasis on spirituality and natural rhythms. Without prejudice he wisely points out that “there are award winning wines produced by each of the farming paradigms, organic, biodynamic, conventional and sustainable and there are bad wines produced by each of them as well”.

A very interesting chapter is devoted to wine as a commodity and the resulting constraints to sustainable winegrape growing. The dictionary definition of a com- modity as an economic term is “an article of trade or commerce that can be transported, especially an agricultural or mining product”. The Wikipedia definition is “a largely homogeneous product traded solely based on price”. In this the author sees the consolidation of wineries worldwide into large conglomerates and con- comitant increase on the downward pressure of grape prices as a threat to turn winegrapes into a commodity such as to make sustainable winegrowing impossible in most areas. For those wineries where most sales are local or through their own tasting room and where distribution is not large, the issue of commodification of wine is nonexistent. However, the author points out the need everywhere to resist the identification of wine as a commodity and rather emphasize that wine is a value added product. Winegrowers need to emphasize the uniqueness of the grapes they grow to wineries and consumers. Higher winegrape prices ensure a sustainable business and provide growth and flexibility for the regional wine industry.

For me the most important chapter in the book is chapter 5 regarding the role of science in winegrape growing in the United States. Too often I have attended presentations at so-called “scientific” sessions of grape growers and wine educators where the invited speaker is an organic winegrower who has taken an “us versus them” attitude. He may have made some fine wine but is unaware of the cost to make that wine. The session moderator usually thinks it not sufficiently important to ask the cost yet this is a critical point – it is the economic “E” that drives sustain- ability. For example, I heard one organic grower-presenter refer to his conventional winegrowing neighbors as “nozzle heads” because of the presenter’s view of such farmers as indiscriminant users of pesticides. This is despite the fact that most winegrowers implement integrated pest management practices which are science- based and data driven and cost effective. Yet, I have never heard an organic grower give information about the economic feasibility of their organic practices. Sample costs for the production of organic winegrapes are available from U.C. Davis and are very high (over $4,000 per ton to break even at a yield of 4 tons per acre). Often, especially in the East where disease pressure is higher than in California, the real economics of organic or quasi-organic practices would indicate unsustainable levels of crop loss, low yields or a prolonged time of more than 5 years to harvest of the first crop. Ohmart points out that the foundation of training of farmers, whether conventional or sustainable, organic or biodynamic, should be based on science. One must be objective in gathering data and be aware of science based statistical analyses. To be sustainable one cannot treat winegrape growing or winemaking purely as an art – one must use a scientific approach. Simply put, if you cannot measure it well you cannot manage it well.

People go into winegrowing for a variety of reasons but few have the experience or vision to know what their long-term goals for the vineyard should be. In Part II of this book Ohmart helps the grower develop a vision based on holistic principles of a sustainable vineyard. He warns, borrowing a quote from Yogi Berra, “If you don’t know where you are going, you might wind up someplace else.” He presents a vision for the long-term health, biodiversity and productivity of the farm. He describes the need to identify resources, to develop sustainable goals, shared values and the desired landscape of the future. His considerable experience in developing a holistic vision came from a groundbreaking workshop he had with members of the Lodi Winegrape Commission.

Perhaps the least recognized “E” of sustainability is social equity. The reason for its lack of attention is that it is probably the most challenging to address. Humorously, Ohmart refers to this “E” as the 3rd rail of sustainability because no one wants to touch the subject for fear of getting zapped. Ohmart does a good job in defining social equity in terms of its challenges, human resource issues, estate planning and community involvement.

The last several chapters of the book are devoted to principles of ecosystem management and data driven sustainability. A common thread is that of vine balance – keeping vine vigor and fruitfulness in balance through sustainable soil and water management principles. He keenly emphasizes the importance of the watershed region as a minimum ecosystem unit. The watershed region is an excellent unit for examining a region for long term planning and more appropriate for winegrowing than political boundaries. So important are watersheds to sustainable viticulture that in my opinion when considering designation of a region as an American Viticulture Area (AVA) perhaps a future consideration should be that area encompasses a specific watershed region. Ohmart also draws on his vast experience in IPM to demonstrate how it can serve as a cornerstone of sustainable farming. There is also a chapter on vineyard establishment which outlines the key principles in understanding the vigor of the site and the vineyard nutrient management to keep vines in balance. The final chapter on certification is quite useful. Several regions have developed sustainability certification. After reading this book the winegrower might want to develop a sustainability program if one does not exist in his region. Yet the author is very cautious and advises the grower to introduce the sustainability concepts slowly and deliberately into his practice before trying to establish a regional program. There are several types of certification programs including process-based, performance-based and practice-based and the author points out their respective advantages and disadvantages.

View from the Vineyard, A Practical Guide to Sustainable Winegrape Growing is a useful book for those who are interested in understanding current approaches to this most promising form of viticulture. While the book is largely based on experience in viticulture in California and the West, regions with rather different sustainability challenges from those in the East where my vineyard is located, it nonetheless presents a broad enough based viewpoint so that sustainable vineyard activities can be extrapolated to nearly any regional ecosystem and community. The key points of science-based measurement, data gathering and analysis along with achieving vine balance are emphasized throughout this book as important components of sustainable winegrowing. This is the first and only definitive book on sustainable winegrowing and I highly recommend it to all current and prospective winegrowers.

Lawrence R. Coia
President, Outer Coastal Plain Vineyard Association
njwineman@comcast.net
doi: 10.1017/jwe.2013.15

In the late nineteenth century, peasants from the prosperous and industrially advanced northern Italian province of Piedmont emigrated to California. They transplanted their traditional winemaking skills to the new world, taking advantage of a natural similarity in climatic and topographical characteristics. This identical viticultural terroir and their enological know-how allowed these Piedmontese migrants to take advantage of the openings in a relatively classless frontier society to build empires of wine. They were aided by ethnic economies, with which they were able to mobilize capital from other Piedmontese both in California and back in Italy. Simone Cinotto’s new book shows that the preceding statements, while forming an attractive narrative, are almost entirely refuted by a careful look at the history of Italians in the Californian wine industry.

Soft Soil, Black Grapes challenges both popular knowledge and conventional historiography, building its case using three examples of Piedmontese entrepreneurs and their companies. While the first two companies have since been absorbed by larger concerns (the Italian Swiss Colony and the Italian Vineyard Company), the third, Ernest and Julio Gallo, is one of the giants of the American wine industry. Cinotto draws on company and public archives, iconographic sources (including his own extensive collection of wine-related ephemera), and a critical review of other books on Californian winemaking.

Cinotto uses the introduction and first chapter to discuss the development of what he refers to as the “Pavesian myth.” The image of California as the “Piedmont on the Pacific” was a construction built in various discursive channels and with the contribution of a variety of actors. Cinotto names the myth after the Italian novelist Cesare Pavese, a Karl May-esque figure who never left Italy but wrote about the American West. Pavese described a California that was rural like northern Italy, but so fertile that a farmer hardly had to hoe. It was a narrative of continuity despite transplantation; later in the book Cinotto argues that this myth reduces to “natural”—Piedmontese emigrating and becoming winemakers—what was actually the product of a specific conjunction of historical circumstances.

That this was not the only possible outcome is illustrated in Cinotto’s statistics on Italian labor—only in the West would many work in the agricultural sector, in stark contrast to the more urban Italian communities of the Eastern seaboard. In chapter two (“Producing Winescapes: Immigrant Labor on California Land”), Cinotto shows how the terroir of the early locations on Italian vineyards was anything but ideal; the land they were planted on was selected not so much for its appropriateness for viticulture but rather for its low price. Early vineyards in these less-than-optimal spots were only possible with the transformative (and exploitative) use of low-cost immigrant labor to render them fertile. Indeed, the Italian Vineyard Company was created in the midst of the Cucamonga Desert outside of Los Angeles, where a layer of sand covered the somewhat fertile underlying earth and immigrant labor was necessary to clear the brush, haul in soil amendments, and keep out livestock and other pests. A striking image of grapevines growing out of the sandy soil of an obviously arid valley instantly banishes the idea that California was identical to Piedmont.

Equally fallacious was the idea of the seamless transplantation of enological knowledge from Italy to the Pacific coast. Cinotto makes an important digression in the third chapter to describe how the diffusion of up-to-date enological knowledge (the use of sulfites, the importance of a sufficient sugar level, ageing off lees) was restricted to a very small circle of elite winemakers in Piedmont. Italian peasants (like their cousins around the Mediterranean basin) while certainly familiar with growing grapes, did not produce high-quality wines but rather made a “more affordable beverage of pressed grapes and water,” one which tended to turn rapidly into vinegar (62). Cinotto also shows that far from being amateur peasant viticulturalists or experienced enologists, the three entrepreneurs described here were middle class merchants who had no direct experience with winemaking prior to their emigration.

Why is it then that these Piedmontese emigrants came to dominate the California wine industry? Previous scholarship had focused on ethnic economies and ethnic entrepreneurship, and the ways in which in-groups privilege their own members in economic transactions. Cinotto points out, however, that these theories fail to explain why another ethnic group (say the Japanese) did not come to dominate wine production, or why the Piedmontese did not create empires based on the production of, for example, bread or cheese. The author argues that the Piedmontese, theories notwithstanding, did not always act as an ethnically compact group; in addition, while they made use of ethnic ties, their success in the wine industry was ultimately due to other factors.

“The area known as the Cucamonga Desert was a vast, steppe-like rectangle beaten by wind, completely uninhabited and uncultivated… […] The layer of sand that covered its entire surface made it ill-suited to the abundant irrigation needed in an area that received very little precipitation. In fact, there was so much sand that it completely covered the tracks of the nearby Southern Pacific Railroad when the wind lifted it up.” (Cinotto, 2012, p. 56). Courtesy Cal Poly Pomona University Library Special Collections.

Changing economic and social conditions in the early twentieth century had opened a breach in the wine sector for the Piedmontese. Far from being first players in the wine industry, they had been relative latecomers. The Spanish had introduced Vitis vinifera in the 1500s, and thereafter the British and Irish, and still later the French, Germans, and Scandinavians entered the wine market. The Piedmontese had faced fierce competition in the late 1800s—indeed, this is why some of the early Piedmontese vineyards were in such disadvantageous locations, not by chance overlooked by earlier entrepreneurs. This “latecomer effect,” combined with the Piedmontese’s lack of capital and winemaking skills forced them to activate ethnic networks and build social capital through marriage and ethnic cooperation.

Key to understanding the Piedmontese success during and especially after Prohibition, Cinotto suggests, is knowledge of California’s complex theoretical constructions of race of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Though quite racially mixed—with large populations from Europe, Mexico, and East Asia mingling with a relatively small native-born population—Californian society was stratified according to the prevailing pseudo-scientific racial theories of the day. Cinotto reveals that the racial category of “white” did not include Italians: the Piedmontese ranked behind northern Europeans, but they were still ahead of African Americans, Mexicans, and Asians. The three companies here surveyed all used this in-between position in the American racial hierarchy to mobilize a workforce with the carrot (appeals to ethnic solidarity coupled with corporate paternalism) and the stick (the threat of Mexicans or Japanese as replacement labor in the case of disputes).

In sum, Piedmontese winemakers articulated a narrative of ethnic identity that benefited from the specific racial and racist structure of Californian society on one hand, and aimed at interclass national solidarity on another. [. . .] Proletarian immigrants paid for the nonmonetary and immaterial benefits bestowed on them by ethnic winemaking entrepreneurs with modest wages and meager possibilities of reproach (p. 149).

Chapter 8 again seems like a slight digression from the main arguments, but is important as Cinotto shows how the Piedmontese winemakers, far from being limited by their cultural baggage, adapted quickly to the novel business environment of California and the capitalist Zeitgeist. They embraced technological innovation and mass production, as well as attempting to market their standardized products at the national and international level just like other American capitalists.

The final two chapters are as close as academic writing can be to exciting. The central question of the book is not why the Italians in California took up wine- making as a business, but rather why (to borrow a term from Rostow) they were able to achieve a sort of “enological takeoff” and came to dominate a market in which they had initially had only disadvantages. While ethnic cooperation and adoption of Fordist strategies were important, it was Prohibition—Cinotto argues—which provided the historical-economic opportunity which the Piedmontese winemakers were able to seize. Cinotto explains that Prohibition was not simply about pro- hibiting alcohol but rather a front in a battle against everything that was perceived as “foreign” by mainstream American society. This is not an original observation, but Cinotto’s genius is connecting it to how Piedmontese winemakers turned what was for most winemakers a disaster (i.e. the outlawing of their principal product) into a springboard.

Even before Prohibition officially began when the Volstead Act took effect in 1920, the rising sentiment of an ever-stronger temperance movement attached a negative stigma to the production and sale of alcoholic beverages. Seeing which way the wind was blowing, many of the Piedmontese’s primary competitors began to exit the market even before Prohibition started, and many more followed thereafter. The negative social capital of being involved with wine production and the shrinking legal business opportunities made winemaking a risky business, and those ethnic groups which possessed the social mobility to move up and away from it, did so. Thus many native French and Scandinavian winemakers—who had taken the places of the first native-born and British winemakers—dropped out of the business as the cost-benefit ratio changed. Another group of competitors—the German- American winemakers—were eager, in the post-WWI era, to avoid any association with what might be considered “foreign” (and, by extension, subversive) and gave up winemaking as well. The slowly-built ethnic networks of the Piedmontese became even more useful when the other ethnicities started to exit the wine industry.

The Piedmontese found a playing field that was remarkably clearer than it had been just a decade and a half earlier, but which allowed them to prosper in an industry whose daily components, under Prohibition, were “risk, danger, and hard work” (p. 221). Cinotto argues that it was because they were forced to remain in winemaking, as they lacked the upward mobility of the other ethnic groups, held back as they were by California’s racist social structure.

This book is commendable not only for what it accomplishes—demystifying a popular and historiographic misconception—but also for how it accomplishes that task: a carefully documented thesis built with clear exposition. While this erudite book certainly assumes an intelligent reader, Cinotto is careful to give the requisite background to concepts that may lie outside the ken of his audience, like the late nineteenth-century European agrarian crisis, the terms and theoretical debates about ethnic entrepreneurship, and anthropological theories about race and their effect on American immigration policy. The illustrations were also a valuable addition to the text: the maps of Italian and Californian wine regions helped the reader see their historical evolutions, and the 45 black and white photographs added force to what had been said in the text. Indeed, as the above-mentioned photograph of the vineyard in the Cucamonga Desert, they are occasionally even more important. Extensive endnotes—which go above and beyond the mere bibliographic citation, pointing the interested reader to other texts—and a thorough index round out the book’s utility. Soft Soil, Black Grapes is an essential addition to the bookshelf for anyone interested in the history of American viticulture or of Italian immigrants in the US, and a fascinating and informative read for anyone else.

Zachary Nowak
The Umbra Institute Perugia
znowak@umbra.org
doi:10.1017/jwe.2013.16