Wine Book Review: 'Grape Explications' by Neal D. Hulkower

Neal Hulkower is an applied mathematician and freelance wine writer who retired in Oregon in the well-known wine producing Willamette Valley and who (I presume) saw a review of my book and kindly sent me a copy of his and asked me if I would comment.

The book is split into eight parts and might be characterised as an anthology of his writing on wine. ‘In the Beginning’ starts with some of his undergraduate tasting notes from the 70’s, mainly of German wines, a favourite of his, though the notes are perhaps only of historical interest now, though he later does admit that he used the word ‘mineral’ - a description that he comes to excoriate afterwards in a chapter reviewing Alex Maltman’s book on the subject. Far more interestingly, especially now in 2026 when the wine press is awash with more books, tastings and marketing to celebrate the 50^th anniversary of the 1976 Tasting, he gets into his core expertise to describe the Borda Count Method which he believes to be a more statistically accurate way to compile scores and which would still have had the Californian (Chateau Montelena) win the white tasting (against various top rank Burgundies) but would have had Haut Brion dethrone Stags Leap for the red throne. Given the hyperbole that surrounds this ‘historic event’ this is indeed a fascinating take on it (and I knew Steven Spurrier who was the main force behind the tasting with Patricia Gallagher). I wish there was a bit more on the subject as even today I saw an eminent wine critic and expert declaim the 1973 Stags Leap as the most important bottle of red wine in American history.

The second part is ‘American Association of Wine Economists’ which recounts the meetings, speakers and their topics from 2013 to 2023 in various exotic wine producing areas including Georgia which sounded fun. Again, it is perhaps mostly of historical interest as there is not much about the actual debates involved, except about the ‘consensus ranking or Oregon pinot vintages’ which might be an esoteric subject for all but aficionados of such, though I did like his quote from Allen Meadows (‘Burghound’) that ‘Like life, Burgundy vintages are simply far too complicated to be captured by a numerical rating on a chart.’ Indeed, the dislike of tasting notes and scores is a subject that he frequently returns to and with which I wholeheartedly agree. A total waste of time, and what might now be called ‘fake news’.

Part three gets into Book Reviews with a number of books about Oregon and its history (Katherine Cole in 2011, Vivian Perry & John Vincent and Cila Warncke 2013/2015, Anna Maria Ponzi 2020); two tomes on Riesling (Stuart Pigott 2017, JW Haeger 2016); two from scientists on taste and ‘minerality’ Jamie Goode (2016 & 2021) and Alex Maltman (2018); plus Eric Asimov (2012), Hugh Johnson (2020); a Susan Keevil anthology (2019), Andrew Jefford (2022) and the shocking abuse story of a talented female sommelier Victoria James (2020).

As you can see it’s a mixed bunch across the last fifteen years, but Hulkower is a detailed reviewer with strong opinions and an admirably irreverent and at times biting sense of humour. He loves English authors such as Johnson and Jefford (with which again I give thanks), and his comments on the famed New York Times writer Asimov are well argued and not friendly. A great read and I couldn’t help chuckling at times. He is even willing to take to task his favourite writer Jefford for despising tasting scores whilst also using them and has a mild dig at Johnson for being Eurocentric in his history. Both authors I might add replied with grace and accepted the critique. His reviews are carefully thought out and argued, as well as at times witty, though I’d not like to be on the receiving end if he didn’t like what I had written!

Part four, ‘Willamette Valley Happenings’ starts with a recount of the various International Pinot Noir Celebration events in Oregon and the much shorter four-hour Passport to Pinot walk around. Then comes the equivalent Oregon Chardonnay Celebration. Again, these occured a decade or more ago, so not exactly of current interest, but I was surprised by the emphasis on the ABC ‘movement’ (Anything But Chardonnay) which was obviously still a big issue in Oregon (where Pinot Gris was the most planted white varietal) whereas in Europe it’s a bit of a forgotten cliché. And I don’t think anybody would rate Alsace Pinot Gris over Burgundian Chardonnay.

He then moves to the Willamette Valley’s Way with Chardonnay, a subject of personal interest as though I don’t know or have access to enough wines, I suspect I prefer Oregon to California Pinot (as does the writer of course) and I have tasted a few Oregon Chardonnays (from Drouhin, Evening Land and lately Nicolas Jay).

I found this section the more compelling as after he delves into ABC, he touches on very current and often ignored matters such as premature oxidation (of white burgundies in the main); of the effect of clones versus site and winemaking; of pricing and relative values in Oregon versus Burgundy (a very pertinent concern today as demand for Burgundy seems crazed and consequent pricing even more so) and of whether Oregon Chardonnay can age (yes it can). There is a quirky and amusing ‘Pot and Pinot’ tour in 2016 which, yes, mixed cannabis and pinot, though I believe that this innovative and brilliant idea did not last long (all be it legal in Oregon).

Finally, there is a short chapter (‘Rachising’ Pinot Noir) which discusses and explains the logic and effects behind the current trend to use whole cluster fermentation (ie with stems included). You see tasters often claiming to recognise the stems, and winemakers queuing up to use them, but rarely an explanation as to what, why and how. Here it is, though I was interested in that the thinking in Oregon often seemed to be ‘either/or’ whereas in Burgundy it’s much more of a vintage-by-vintage decision with varying percentages of stems added.

Part five deals with Personalities (from Oregon) and six with AHIVOY which looks at the founding and history of an association to help Hispanic immigrant workers (some of whom have risen to become star winemakers). It’s a laudable and rather poignant story when you look at the wall-building and aggressive views of the current US administration.

Part seven looks at the Slow Wine Guide which is an offshoot from the Slow Food Movement that famously began in Italy. Oddly (to me) the Slow Wine part only extends outside Italy to Oregon, California and Slovenia, an eclectic and very restricted list given the number of ‘sustainable’ biodynamic wineries in France to mention but one country. Though the list of wineries in Oregon that are included is useful, it doesn’t really go much beyond that into the why and wherefore, and what effect it does or does not have.

The final part is Grape Explications, the book’s title, which when I first glanced at the cover I misread as Grape Expectations, but perhaps advanced mathematics does not include reading Dickens! To be honest as a title-giving chapter it’s a bit odd, and might have benefitted from more disciplined editing, as it gives us a brief history of the author’s vinous literary career nearly all of which we have already encountered in the past 284 pages. If anything, it should have been the preface?

Anyway, that nit aside, the next piece is Grape Expectorations which again had me giggling out loud, and I speak as one who endlessly dribbles food down his shirt, especially if it’s white. He recounts spitting out DRC Richebourg ‘the average price of the latter at this writing is $1,648 or about $65 an ounce. Had I failed to hit the spittoon, the stain would have been worth more than the shirt.’ Brilliant, and I might add that the price is closer to double that now and if ever you are lucky enough to taste from barrel at the hallowed domaine, when you reach La Romanee-Conti itself, they do whisper politely into your ear that they would prefer it if you did not spit it out. I guess that would be worth more than your designer suit.

He follows on with a lovely commentary on one of his (and my) favourite terms in describing (and appreciating) wines of a certain quality – ‘elegant’. Rather than me paraphrasing the elegance of his equation, let me quote directly:

‘Instead of taking up residence in the metaverse, interact with a glass that contains an elegant wine rather than a screen full of intangible images. It will bring you back down to earth. Seek elegance and when you find it, you’ll find presence. And how priceless that would be even for a brief moment.’

Having also lived in Virginia, Hulkower next takes us on a wine and history tour of the state, back to its most famous incumbent (& winery owner) Thomas Jefferson and before. As I have read the occasional article on the burgeoning wine industry but know nothing, this was an interesting insight, though their flagship varieties, viognier and cabernet franc, are not generally my go to options. But perhaps better than the hybrids that preceded them.

Mathematicians are best known for their use of symbols and formulae, and much less so for their command of the lingua franca, but this author obviously masters both. At times he slightly overplays this and if you comprehend ‘While it may no longer be true in biogenetics that ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny’ then you are more literate than I, and his earnest refusal even to consider what might be a favourite wine (or reply to the question) comes across as slightly grumpy, I do like his invented descriptor ‘kaleidolfactic’ and his reluctance to engage in the modern trend of ascribing a dozen unheard of fruit sub-varieties (or weirder) to every wine. He pokes fun at what is pompously ludicrous. Bravo.

I also thoroughly enjoyed his defence of ‘masculine’ ‘feminine’ and ‘sexy’ and his defence against the pathetic over-sensitivities of cancel culture. His Glossary is also bound to bring a smile to any sensible, balanced wine lover, though I was surprised that there wasn’t an entry for ‘terroir’, a word that is as mis-sold as his despised ‘minerality’.

Overall, for lovers of Oregon wines this is obviously a must read; for the rest of us I think it’s a book for dipping into; there are many highlights and a few chapters that I find read like old clippings from The Oregon Wine Press (which they are). I wish the author had taken his pen, intelligent, informed, witty and sharp as it can be, to write more new material about the history of Oregon wine, from the founding fathers through expansion and the influx of some famous Burgundian names (Drouhin, Lafon, Meo). Plus, perhaps his view of where it is now and where it might be going. Volume two perhaps?

Postscript - ‘The Wine in My Glass’

‘Loving this wine memoir from Adrian Latimer. A must for those who love great stories and writing, albeit primarily about wine. And it’s all in a good cause. All profits go to the Vendanges Solidaires association which helps winemakers who are suffering due to extreme weather conditions…’

Hermione Ireland, Managing Director Academie du Vin Library

‘I’ve enjoyed this book very much, and if you enjoy non-ego-driven, intelligent wine writing, you might enjoy it too.’

Margaret Rand

‘Refreshing candor bereft of rancor is the hallmark of The Wine in My Glass, written by an enthusiast with no connection to the wine trade other than as a committed customer over many decades…. Hardly a page passes without a crisp insight that reveals the sort of deep understanding that is only achieved after years of alert engagement… Burgundy warrants several chapters, but the one that should be compulsory reading—“A Pox Upon You”—tells an unflattering tale about the blight of premature oxidation and its baleful and ongoing consequences… Keen observations such as this leaven every chapter of The Wine in My Glass. We need more wine writing of this ilk: engaging and enthusiastic first, informed and knowledgeable second—the sort of book that should be read with a glass of wine to hand rather than a highlighter pen.’

Raymond Blake ‘The World of Fine Wine’

After some encouragement and a fair few blog posts, I published (Sept 2025) a book about my travels in the wine world - the people, places and, of course, wines.  I am not a professional, so everything I say is objective and unbiased (so I can criticise when other journalists do not dare to do so for instance) and any profits will go to the Vendanges Solidaires association which was set up in 2016 to help winemakers who are in trouble after suffering the extreme weather conditions (frost, hail, fire, flood etc) which sadly are becoming ever more frequent: www.vendangessolidaires.com.

The book ranges from California to Sicily, via Salta, Jujuy and Patagonia in Argentina, Valtellina, Piemonte and Tuscany in Italy, Madeira and of course all over France (Burgundy, Chablis, Sancerre, Beaujolais, Bordeaux, the Rhone).

If you have found any pleasure and/or interest in this blog, I think you might enjoy it, especially as it has been brilliantly illustrated by Arabella Langlands-Perry who managed to juggle bringing up two young kids, helping run Maceo/Willi’s Wine Bar in Paris and producing artwork with an abundance of both talent and wit. Brava.

‘The Wine in My Glass – Tales of Wines, Winemakers and Places’

Published by The Medlar Press Limited, Fishguard, Pembrokeshire, autumn 2025. www.medlarpress.com       

https://medlarpress.com/bookstore/?store-page=The-Wine-in-My-Glass-p768838784

Available from Medlar in UK, and/or from me in France or Willis Wine Bar in Paris.

Price UK Pounds 26 from Medlar or 35 Euros. All profits to charity.

Arabella’s artwork is available from Restaurant Maceo/Willis Wine Bar in Paris.