Owning a wine library, however small, is something I guess the majority of serious wine lovers have, or aspire to. By serious wine lovers, I don’t of course mean lovers of so-called serious wines. Building a wine library, in the same way as building a cellar, may not be the aim of every wine lover, but I’m positive I’m far from alone. My own wine library is quite extensive. I currently possess just under one hundred and fifty books on wine. When we moved to Scotland, we did make a decision to cut our overall library of well over 2,000 books and although wine suffered less than many other subjects, some tens of books had to go. I do rather regret that, but needs must.
Out of the 150 wine books I still own, some come off the shelf more than others, although some books are merely kept because I know there’s a good chance that I will re-read them if I live long enough, in the same way I am always promising myself to re-read the likes of Stendhal, Sartre etc. The hope lies in the fact that I do manage to re-read books, if sometimes on a random whim.
Of those books that I use for research, some get very frequent use. These are often general works. The first book I mention below leaves the shelf more than once a week. There will be no surprise about which it is. But other more specific books get a lot of use too, whether it be a book on a specific country or region, or on viticulture and winemaking.
The start of this article will mention some classics I couldn’t be without, the first of which won’t surprise you. Some might. But then I want to go on to mention a handful (well, maybe slightly more than a handful) of the books I wouldn’t want to be without. The core of the library I’d take to a desert island if I were to be stuck there a long while. All of this group caters to my own “wide world of wine” interests, but many of them are more than this, having a charm and engagement to them alongside the information they contain. From the categories listed below, those in 1 & 2 appear here, in Part 1. Those in 3 & 4 will appear in Part 2. Although they would sit well together in a longer essay, I’m always reminded to keep my articles short enough that readers can stay awake throughout.

I think my own wine books fit into four broad categories.
- General – like the Wine Atlas below;
- General/Specific – covering a general aspect of wine but with more specific content. Like the books on Amber/Orange wine, Natural Wine or Regenerative Viticulture;
- Very Specific – Books on a country or region dear to me; and
- Stories and Memories – Ever since the likes of Pliny the Elder (and before) raised a voice in print on wine, those in the wine business, from both sides, have put their experiences or lives down on paper. Some of these books are established classics (Lynch, Theise, Johnson etc), but others are at least as worthy.
First up of course is the World Atlas of Wine. It is currently in its 8th edition, but most of you may know that the new 9th edition is due to be published on 24 September (6 October in the US). I think I’ve owned almost but not quite every edition since Hugh Johnson and Mitchell Beazley published this wonderful work in in 1971. Jancis Robinson took over, working with Johnson on later editions, and now Julia Harding has brought her eye for detail to bear. Although some content has inevitably been lost over the decades, way more has been added to bring the whole world of wine up-to-date. There’s always a thrill in flicking through to see what has indeed been added, and I understand that this time there’s a lot which has.
The Atlas lives up to its name with the best cartography of wine known to me, and a gazetteer to match. It is for accurately locating a vineyard or village that I most use it and for my “Recent Wines” articles it often proves invaluable on this score. It is going to cost me £60 for the new edition (possibly £57 on Amazon, but is a three quid discount worth it when my local indie bookshop is an asset to the High Street?) yet there’s no getting around it, I’m going to need a copy.

Another general work, one which doesn’t really duplicate but rather complements the Atlas is Pascaline Lepeltier’s One Thousand Vines (which was published in English in 2024, in French in 2022). I reviewed it in December 2024. Its focus is on the vine, with a more detailed focus on ecology, on “landscapes”, covering climate, geology and terroir, and then on wine, via winemaking, wine tasting and serving wine. This territory has to a degree been covered before, not least by Hugh Johnson in his “Wine”, but this is not only a very modern (and pretty comprehensive) study, but it is also imbued with both the deep knowledge Lepeltier has absorbed, plus a deep sensitivity to the wider subject of wine in the current time. It feels bang up to date.

These are the two general books I would argue every wine lover should own, but that doesn’t mean there are not others which would be worth buying. We keep mentioning Hugh Johnson, and his The Story of Wine (Mitchell Beazley, my 1st edn 1989) still stands up as perhaps the history book for wine addicts.
So, no Oxford Companion to Wine? It’s a great book. I’m glad I own it, but the truth is that it’s a big chunk of money sitting on my shelf that is gathering dust. It doesn’t come down very often. I think there’s a simple reason, and maybe that is best explained by referencing Jancis Robinson’s book on grape varieties. That information is there at the tip of my fingers on my phone. If I want to know the parents of a crossing, or the synonyms for any given variety of grape, it is easier to search the internet than to pull down this very heavy work. Wikipedia is generally sound on such matters. But then it is comforting that it sits there, next to an equally little-used dictionary of wines and spirits.
If we move onto the “general but specific” books (and I hope you will see what I mean when you see the books themselves), we come to a small selection which I think cover their subject best.
The first is Camilla Gjerde’s second book, Natural Trailblazers. Camilla has written two books so far, the first being on Women Winemakers, which I might easily have chosen. Natural Trailblazers was published, like Lepeltier’s book, in 2024 and I reviewed it in October of that year. Its focus is on some very special natural winemakers, along with others in the industry (the now almost famous Sune Rosforth features in a chapter on delivering wine by sail boat).
I have a number of books on natural wine, including quite well-known ones by Honey Spencer, Aaron Ayscough and of course Isabelle Legeron, and they are all excellent and engaging (especially Spencer’s), but I do seem to really catch hold of the inspiration which Camilla Gjerde manages to capture in her subjects. I think she has a new project and I shall look forward to discovering what it is.

The second book covers a wine genre which, when I first got interested in wine and wine books, hadn’t yet been “invented”, and was a few decades away from capturing our imagination. Orange wine wasn’t of course “invented” by Western wine writers. It is perhaps the oldest wine style. It was certainly alive if not thriving in Georgia when I tasted my first bottle of Bordeaux, although it took a few pioneers on the border between Italy and Slovenia to pique the interest of the European wine trade. Since then, we have seen Georgia eulogised in print, for me most evocatively by Alice Feiring (For the Love of Wine), but if you want to get deep into Amber (as he prefers) Wine around the world, Simon J Woolf is the man.
Amber Revolution by Simon J Woolf (I always assumed there must be another SW without the J author, but I’ve never asked) came out in 2018 (reviewed by me in July 2018). It was self-published, as many of the best wine books are these days, at least those written by relatively unknown (at the time) authors. Woolf really knows his subject, so that this work is authoritative, but it’s also very well set out and engagingly written. The text is complemented by the wonderful photography of Ryan Opaz, with whom Woolf collaborated on his next book, the excellent Foot Trodden on Portugal’s forgotten wines and traditions. When Amber Revolution hit the shelves (or rather, the online arena) it was little short of a revelation to me, and was my book of the year for 2018.

Third among these titles which I’m calling general but specific is viticulture. This is a subject often approached in a very dry way. Early works were often very much textbook in style. One author who combines science (with a doctorate in Plant Biology) with a down-to-earth writing style that shows no signs of the snobbishness or over-authoritative airs that some older wine writers occasionally display through the certainty of their opinions is Jamie Goode. I have most if not all of Jamie’s books, I trust his opinions (because we share many tastes and a sense of vinous adventure), and I like him as a speaker, one of the most entertaining I have sat and listened to.
Goode has written extensively on viticulture, and I could easily have chosen The New Viticulture (2023). However, the most important area of viticulture now is regeneration towards sustainability. Just as we should act to lessen the damage we have done to our climate, so we need to arrest the deterioration of the soils we use to grow our crops, which have been killed by the overuse of synthetic chemicals and compacted by heavy machinery. In Regenerative Viticulture (expanded Second edn 2025) Jamie uses science to take us through new ways of working a vineyard, where farmers can create self-sustaining ecosystems via a toolkit ranging from cover crops, animals in the vines, agro-forestry, hydrology and more.
For anyone interested in the slightest in the sustainability of wine for those who come after us, this book, along perhaps with that of Masanobu Fukuoka which I shall mention in Part 2, is essential reading, and rewarding reading too. Goode is not only thinking this through, but he’s communicating it so well and we need to sit up and take note. Many of us, thankfully are doing just that, whether wine producers, trade or consumers.

I will give one other book a mention in Part 1, Taste the Limestone, Smell the Slate by Alex Maltman. I think my views on the tasting note debate over “minerality” et al are well known. Alex is a scientist who teaches us (inter alia) that plants cannot directly take up minerals from the rock and translate them into flavours, in our case in a glass of wine. For me, this misses the point. Minerality for me is metaphor.
When I say that a wine from Sicily smells or tastes of iron filings, well even at my stupidest as a schoolboy I never tasted iron filings. It’s a metaphor for texture, which for me can be experienced on the nose as well as the palate. When I thought a glass of Morgex et de la Salle tasted of a smooth pebble in an Alpine steam, I know a pebble has no taste. It is a textural metaphor, one which I was able to validate in that moment, from the icy stream said bottle had been cooling in. Alex may not like my use of metaphor, but if you think about it, what have poets been doing for the past two-thousand years?
But, and this is a big BUT, Maltman’s book is brilliant. If you don’t already love geology and all that sits with it, you almost certainly will love geology after reading it. What the author does is explain extremely complicated science in a way that, as Tim Atkin says on the back cover, “non-specialists can understand”. I think not only understand but hopefully get excited by. If you doubt a book about rocks can further a deeper understanding of wine, read this one.

The books listed here form perhaps a rather quirky selection of works covering either the whole of wine or a broad aspect of wine production. In Part 2, I shall introduce those more specific books I particularly like. I might like them for their subject matter, but no book gets a plug unless I have been particularly engaged with what the author is saying and how they say it.
When I then get round to mentioning some of the memoir-style wine books, how the author says it is, of course, paramount. These are the books that set out to entertain, many of them sitting as comfortably in the genre of travel writing as wine, although of course they always impart the knowledge of an experienced wine lover or obsessive at the same time. I hope you enjoyed this first part. In the next I get more subjective, and go a bit deeper. Consequently, you might not find all the books and authors you might expect. Hopefully I can explain myself adequately when you get there.
If you’d like to read more about any of these books, they are almost all reviewed on my blog, the exception being the World Atlas. There you will find a more in-depth review and publisher information etc (via the search box).








































































