Reflections of a Wine Merchant (Hardcover)

by Neal I. Rosenthal (Author)
Key Phrases: village wine, vineyard holdings, new oak barrels, New York, United States, Madame Ferret (more...)

Editorial Reviews

From Publishers Weekly
Starred Review. The 2008 vintage qualities remain undetermined, but with this title by New York City wine importer Rosenthal, the still-young year yields one of the outstanding wine books of recent memory. From long experience, the author writes that wine should be first understood as an expression of soil through fermented grape juice and begins his memoir of a tradesman's life with a short manifesto on that expressive quality called terroir. Then, Rosenthal takes us on an autobiography of his life as a wine merchant, starting with the opening of his Manhattan shop in 1978, from early misadventures and small-scale successes to the ferreting of significant discoveries far off the paths habitually beaten through France and Italy in particular. His and his wife, Kerry, had a knack for finding the hitherto unknown, and he narrates these discoveries with physical and social details that bring moments to vivid, sensory life. The period he chronicles was one of enormous developments in wine, from California through globalization, and he writes intelligently of the problems that came with progress. Yet neither the trade nor this title is romantic: Rosenthal makes clear the hard, often unpleasant work of winemaking and its trade and the setbacks that are part of the process. Through his business, he has had and been responsible for countless wine-related experiences of exceptional quality; he has now provided a literary one. B&w photos. (May)
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From The Washington Post

Reviewed by Jonathan Yardley

In August 1977, Neal Rosenthal quit his "stagnating career as a lawyer specializing in the arcane rules and regulations of corporate and international tax law, and, in a desperate attempt to maintain some semblance of financial stability, . . . purchased the remnants of my parents' retail business, a neighborhood liquor store" in "a tiny cube on the corner of Seventy-second Street and Lexington Avenue" in "the Upper East Side of Manhattan, a tony residential quarter." The store's selection of wines and Rosenthal's knowledge of wine were limited, but he set about improving both, with impressive results: He and his wife, Kerry Madigan, are now co-owners of Rosenthal Wine Merchant, a "little importing company" that is "little" only in the sense that it serves a limited clientele, one that appears to be knowledgeable, choosy and rich.

This exclusiveness must be kept in mind as one ventures into Reflections of a Wine Merchant, Rosenthal's memoir of his three decades in the high-end wine business. It is quite a good book -- well written, informative, agreeably opinionated -- but it is about a world that precious few of us are in position to enter. Though Rosenthal is maddeningly coy about money matters -- I cannot recall that he mentions even once what he paid for an order of wine or charged for a bottle, and his company's Web site does not include wine prices -- one does not have to be a genius to conclude that since he specializes in the most elite wines from the most elite districts of France and Italy, we are talking about far bigger bucks than most of us are able to spend. If you are, as I am, someone who regards the purchase of a $25 bottle of wine as a rare and extravagant occasion, you probably are going to feel, as I do, that Rosenthal is off somewhere in terra incognita.

Or, more accurately, terroir, the "concept that the particulars of a zone -- the combination of soil, climate, grape type, and, perhaps, human history -- are responsible for producing very special characteristics that are unique to a quite specific spot." Rosenthal is a passionate believer in terroir and, equally, a passionate disbeliever in the mass production of wines without regard to the specific character of the place in which the grapes are grown. He operates by standards that can only be called rigorous. Here he comments on one French grower's insistence that his daughter "never, under any circumstances," sell a small vineyard called Les Ménétrieres:

"This sentiment is the ultimate expression of someone's love of the land, recognition that nature is king and we are only its caretakers, that land is eternal and we are not. It is why I insist on working with estate-bottled wines; it is why I require our growers to be as specific as possible when labeling their wines so that our clients and the ultimate consumers of these hand-made, limited production wines can have a better understanding of the magic that takes place when the vine is planted in a special place and cared for by the proper steward."

It is here that Rosenthal separates himself from the herd of wine snobs whose interest ultimately is less in the wines themselves than in the prices they fetch, the labels they bear, the prizes they win. His commitment to terroir is deep and ardent and rises from a conviction "that nature makes the wine and man acts as its steward." Among his most appealing characteristics is his infectious love for the particular places where fine wines are grown and for the people who grow them.

It helps as well that Rosenthal is honest and reasonably modest about his own education in the subtleties of wine and the business attendant to it. He started out, in 1977, with "a two-week sabbatical in the Berkshire hills of western Massachusetts accompanied by several cases of wine and a bunch of books on the subject," returning "with a scintilla of wine knowledge" that provided the foundation for what he has built in the ensuing years. His nose and palate seem to be exceptionally keen: "No one ever taught me how to taste wine, nor did I learn from someone else what is good and bad. I brought my own talents, developed my own standards, and jumped into the fray. I had no business plan; instinct was my guide. I naively believed that allegiance to quality would carry the day, and I trusted my own taste. I have always said that if I couldn't sell the wine I was purchasing, at least I would be happy to drink it."

His taste, by his ready admission, is conservative: "I am curious about the new and different, but I am most at home with the tried and true. Ultimately, my portfolio of growers and their wines reflects my search for wines that are part of classical tradition. As a result, we may be out of the mainstream." It therefore is no surprise that Rosenthal was chosen as a spokesman for traditionalists by the makers of "Mondovino" (2004), a controversial Belgian film that excoriates the mass-production wine industry from a decidedly left-wing and anti-American point of view, a slant of which Rosenthal may well have been unaware when he was interviewed. In his memoir he laments that wine is no longer the "gentleman's business" it was (or so at least he imagines) when he began, a business dominated now by big money and "a need to fashion wine that will be most appealing in its youth and brought to market rapidly." He writes harshly about today's wine critics, who "provide fodder for the marketing of wines," and about what the wine culture has become: "So much of today's brave new world of wine and food is often no more than a game of smoke and mirrors, more bravado than substance, a world where young chefs with a couple of years of study at a fancy food university display their lack of discipline by piling all their lessons before you on every plate, and itinerant winemakers bring their formulas fresh from the laboratory to make wines of flash that cannot satisfy, which have to be gobbled up instantly before the deception is discovered."

There is more than a little truth to that, though not a syllable of it will find favor in the trendy places where hot new fashions in food and wine are inhaled by those who now pass for tastemakers. Still, Rosenthal fails to come to terms with the realities of today's marketplace. Wine produced by growers such as those with whom he works is and always will be a luxury available only to the few, except, perhaps, to those living in the places where it is made. His notion that there will be a return to the old ways on a larger scale is, to put it charitably, naive. It's not going to happen. The wine industry wants to grow, not to shrink into a niche market for wealthy connoisseurs. The best that can be hoped for, in light of the inescapable realities of production, distribution and marketing, is that people will still be able to buy wines of acceptable quality at acceptable prices.

The truth is that many such wines are available now. Rosenthal turns up his nose at just about all wines made anywhere except in his treasured terroirs of France and Italy, but I have often been steered by knowledgeable wine salespeople to eminently drinkable and affordable wines from South America, Australia, South Africa, the West Coast and other places that Rosenthal generally disdains. It is a pity that his admirable loyalty to terroir and those who worship at its altar blinds him to the facts of life with which less fortunately situated people must deal.

Still, there is much more to praise than to condemn in Reflections of a Wine Merchant. Rosenthal clearly has a gift for friendship, and his accounts of his dealings with growers and their families can be touching as well as informative. Being a wine merchant is harder than most people imagine, and he does a good job of describing its quotidian details. Most of all, though, this book is the testament of someone who, through a combination of talent, determination and good luck, has been able to spend his working life doing exactly what he wants to do, and doing it well. That is a blessing not often bestowed, and Rosenthal's gratitude for it is evident on every page.

Copyright 2008, The Washington Post. All Rights Reserved.

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Product Details

• Hardcover: 272 pages
• Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux; 1 edition (April 29, 2008)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 0374248567
• ISBN-13: 978-0374248567
• Product Dimensions: 5.8 x 1.2 x 1.1 inches
• Shipping Weight: 0.8 ounces (View shipping rates and policies)
• Average Customer Review: 3.2 out of 5 stars See all reviews (8 customer reviews)
• Amazon.com Sales Rank: #465,596 in Books (See Bestsellers in Books)

Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

25 of 28 people found the following review helpful:

2.0 out of 5 stars Thud, May 7, 2008

By	A reader (San Francisco, CA USA) - See all my reviews

If there was ever any doubt about the matter we now know that the skill set needed to discover wines of real character and the one that results in great prose are entirely distinct. Though I was looking forward to this book, from the outset I was sorely disappointed. The author spends much of the first several chapters settling scores with individuals who have disappointed him in the past. Before we join him on his first solo visit to the vineyards of Europe he already sounds embittered. Once we join him on his rounds, we do meet some lovely people for whom Rosenthal has genuine affection--and who seem inordinately cursed by personal tragedy. While the dust jacket promises that 'we will learn how they unveil the subtleties of their individual terroirs,' I don't believe we do. I was expecting something on the exalted level of 'Adventures on the Wine Route,' but this isn't it.

12 of 14 people found the following review helpful:

4.0 out of 5 stars Contrasting View, June 9, 2008

By	J. Hamacher (Seattle, WA USA) - See all my reviews (REAL NAME)

I don't get the vitriol of the first three reviewers. Concerning their complaints that this book is full of Neal's opinions and rants: yes, it is. If they were looking for nothing but raw facts perhaps they should have selected a book that wasn't autobiographical. As for the quality of the writing: while Neal does tend to be a little over-the-top with his comparisons, his use of the English language is quite good albeit old-fashioned.

Personally, I really enjoyed this book. It's a quick, fun read as long as you take it for what it is: a collection of recollections and musings on wine and personal history by Neal. I found him to be relatively even-handed in his treatment of most subjects and it was refreshing to hear from someone in the world of wine who doesn't worship at the temple of numerical scores.

11 of 14 people found the following review helpful:

1.0 out of 5 stars Thin and bitter..., May 22, 2008

By	Chambolle (Bainbridge Island, WA USA) - See all my reviews

Perhaps this is an exercise in piling on, but it must be said... this book is a tremendous disappointment. Mr. Rosenthal vents his spleen on a variety of topics and people, with little in the way of real insight to offer. The prose is sometimes comically stilted and reads like bad legal writing. Often a single sentence rambles on for a good part of a page, bearing the weight three or four sentences should carry.

His heart is in the right place: wines with character and sense of place, made for keeping. But between the small minded jabs at a pantheon of enemies, the rotten writing and the sheer superficiality of it all... No. Don't bother. Instant bargain bin material.