“I make wines for me. I sell what’s left over.”

Esposito explains in a few short paragraphs the reason American wine buyers are generally not fans of Italian wines (food). He tells us the single Italian wine that is a breakfast drink. He clearly explains why the "McInstant" mentality of average Americans leaves them unprepared for, and unable to cope with, or appreciate, some wines. He refers to “airport-novel language,” and the ludicrousness of certain wine reviewers. He shows us the fallacy of how Italian wines are scored by the “Emperor of Wine.” He tells us about the Friulian School of Gravner, how Gravner was leading the pack in new methodology when he suddenly scrapped it all and went back to using huge amphorae, large enough to hold a full-grown man and used five thousand years ago, thereby making enemies of former followers. He tells how this winemaker broke the mold on making Pinot Grigio, alienating some potential customers by his rosé-colored Pinot Grigio. We learn about zak-zak, the meaning of which you’ll have to read the book to discover. We learn about “brown food.” He tells us about the introverted prince and his cellars in Mount Vulture. We also learn which part of Italy will likely explode with wineries in the near future. We discover where the land of Enotria was and how we can find it today. And we learn of the favorite and most expensive wine of the ancient Romans, as well as about communist wine.

The above is a mere smattering of the wisdom and wonderful stories that Esposito imparts in this all too short book. I urge you to pick up a copy. It makes no difference if you adore wine or if you’re a teetotaler. It’s an absolutely spellbinding book. My only caution is to read Passion on the Vine on a full stomach. Otherwise your mouth will be watering every ten pages or so from the descriptions of the food and wine.

And if you should find you have an overwhelming urge to order some of the fine wines you've been reading about, check out Sergio's website.