The Billionaire’s Vinegar – Benjamin Wallace

In Paperback from Amazon.com for $10.17

Buy it if: You feel like living vicariously (and viniculturally) through those who consider an ’82 Haut-Brion young and affordable

Don’t buy it if: You consider anything beyond $9 Yellow Tail Shiraz an overpriced extravagance… Or if you happen to own a $27,000 1899 Chateau d’Yquem of questionable provenance!

As with wine, there are a half dozen different reasons a reader could enjoy The Billionaire’s Vinegar. Or dislike it for that matter. Though named for what was, at the time, the most expensive bottle of wine ever purchased, the subject is really much broader than that. And author Benjamin Wallace spends 300+ pages delving into the many twisted and deceptive paths that ancient wines tread before they are ever actually uncorked. For these treasures are not simply bottled, cataloged and placed in a cellar to await someone with money to burn and a fancy corkscrew. Instead they are squirreled away, traded at auction, packed across continents or – if your faith remains by the end of the book – buried in hidden cellars around Paris and the rest of the world.

The titular 1787 'Thomas Jefferson' Lafite purchased by Malcom Forbes is actually only one of a host of antique wines to make an appearance. While it may be the quintessential example of how much some fabulously wealthy collectors are willing to shell out for a piece of drinkable history ($156,450 for those keeping score…) it is only one of dozens that protagonist Harry Rodenstock – who displays apparent Indiana Jones-like veracity in unearthing these bottled treasures – sold over the course of a decade and a half. Some show up at hedonistic tasting dinners that would make Robin Leach blush, while others find their way to the auction blocks of Christie’s and Sotheby’s or directly into the cellars of the super-rich. But by the midway point of the book it is obvious that all are tainted by the stench of suspicion.

As with the best mysteries, fiction or otherwise, it’s the characters in The Billionaire’s Vinegar that move it beyond a simple question of ‘is it or isn’t it.’ From Rodenstock’s shifty dealings, to lauded wine expert-cum-unwitting-accomplice Michael Broadbent's spearheading of auctions, Wallace includes a number of personalities in the wine world’s quest to discover (or remain blissfully ignorant of) the true origins of these ultra-rare bottles. By the conclusion, a Jefferson historian, carbon-dating expert and eccentric publisher will all have joined the fray. Though I’d venture to say the book’s greatest failing is its inability to offer a definite conclusion, the immensely deep and varied cast more than makes up for it.

Fair warning, before the book's end you will almost certainly be tempted to visit your local merchant with a Bordeaux-laden shopping list, if only to get a taste for the modern version of the treasures discussed. But it will be well worth it. The biggest fringe benefit of Wallace’s volume is a deepened appreciation for the history, craftsmanship and mystique inherent to the world’s most important wine region. So pour a glass, sniff deeply, sip and enjoy a pastime shared with monarchs, tycoons and presidents. Even those of us with modest means may take pleasure in the simple joys of good wine and a well-told story.