Norwegian-born Dahl was known for his children’s books such as James and the Giant Peach, Matilda, and The BFG among many others, but he also wrote adult fiction and autobiographical works. Further, he was a keen drinker of fine wine (Violet Beauregard in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is named after the Bordeaux château), to such an extent that he bought 1,000 cases of the acclaimed 1982 Bordeaux vintage. Unlike some of the other writers in this book, Dahl kept his love of wine in moderation. His widow Liccy recalled in 2005 that Dahl did not drink and write at the same time: “He never drank wine until the evening. His lunch was spartan, and he never drank wine at lunchtime. But he drank every evening without fail.” That appreciation for wine found its way into his writing.

As well as writing pieces for Esquire, he wrote two short stories centred on wine. Dahl’s stories are underappreciated, with old-fashioned twists, but they are sharp, witty, and nicely detailed. “Taste” was first published in 1945; it focuses on a wine snob and his attempt to use his wine knowledge to trap the daughter of a friend into marrying him. This dark undertone to a seemingly simple story about English suburbia is typical of the twists in Dahl’s work, both for adults and children. The snob – or “famous gourmet” – is called Richard Pratt, who “refused to smoke for fearing of harming his palate” and “had a curious, rather droll habit of referring to [wine] as though it were a living being.” The setting is the London home of a stockbroker, Mike Schofield who”seemed to be somewhat embarrassed, almost ashamed to find that he had made so much money with so slight a talent.” To spend his money and overcome his lack of culture, Schofield buys expensive wine and reguarly invites Pratt to dinners to show off his new wine collection. As a sidebet, Schofield always challenges Pratt to name the wine (invariably a claret) he is serving, a bet Pratt always wins. On this particular occasion, Pratt finds himself infatuated with Schofield’s eighteen-year-old daughter and ups the stakes of the bet: if he names the wine correctly, he can marry the daughter. Dahl’s description of Pratt tasting the wine is a wonderful mockery of the pretensions of wine-tasting:

Slowly he lifted the glass to his nose. The point of the nose entered the glass and moved over the surface of the wine, delicately sniffing. He swirled the wine gently around in the glass to receive the bouquet. His concentration was intense. He had closed his eyes, and now the whole top half of his body, the head and neck and chest, seemed to become a kind of huge sensitive smelling-machine, receiving, filtering, analysing the message from the sniffing nose.

With fanfare and built-up tension, to the daughter’s horror Pratt guesses the wine correctly: “Then, still holding the glass up near his mouth, he turned to Mike and he smiled, a slow, silky smile, and he said, ‘You know what this is? This is the little Château Branaire-Ducru.’” With a twist typical of Dahl’s stories, Pratt’s triumph is quickly undercut: the elderly maid who had been quietly observing proceedings politely hands Pratt his glasses she had found in the study next to the bottle of wine.

Bordeaux 1982

The 1982 vintage in Bordeaux is one of the most legendary, not least because it made the name of US wine critic Robert Parker. He was one of the few to praise it as one of the greatest Bordeaux vintages of the century and as the quality of the wines became apparent, Parker’s reputation was secured. In part, this was because the US was a young wine-drinking nation and drinkers needed a guru to guide them. It also helped that 1982 was the first “modern” Bordeaux vintage—more fruit forward and cleaner in style—which appealed both to Parker and the US palate.

Although written thirty years later, “The Butler” (1974) has a similar tone and theme, again mocking a noveau riche wine snob whose ignorance is undone by his butler. This story features George Cleaver, a self-made millionaire who hosts lavish dinners in order to attract and impress. However, despite the “superb food,” his dinners fail to do so and his butler bluntly tells Cleaver why: “It’s the wine, sir. … you serve them a cheap and very odious Spanish red.” Cleaver, determined to rectify this failing, orders his butler to buy the finest red wines (all Bordeaux) from the greatest vintages. In tasting the wines his butler has brought in at considerable cost, Cleaver becomes so engrossed in wine that he fancies himself an aficionado “and inevitably he turned into a colossal bore. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he would announce at dinner, holding up his glass, ‘this is a Margaux ’29! The greatest year of the century! Fantastic bouquet! Smells of cowslips! And notice especially the after taste and how the tiny trace of tannin gives it that glorious astringent quality! Terrific, ain’t it?’” His guests do not share his enthusiasm and the story’s twist reveals why: the butler has been serving the same odious Spanish red at each dinner while enjoying the fine Bordeaux vintages with the French chef. On announcing this to Cleaver and his guests at dinner, the butler and the chef promptly leave the house, all the great Bordeaux drunk.