Book Report: The Dark Vineyard

47. Martin Walker, The Dark Vineyard (2009) (9/28/21)

I discovered the protagonist of this book (and of 14 more) back in 2019, with Bruno, Chief of Police. As I wrote then, Bruno is an amiable character, and in this second book of the series we are, again, treated to a lot of beautiful countryside, some delicious food and drink, and an array of personalities, here ranging from vintners to police officers to young rugby players to old hippies to hunting dogs and horses. The mystery, such as it is, involves an act of arson and GMO crops. A couple of deaths occur—seemingly natural, but maybe not? There is grape-stomping and dancing. Industrial espionage figures in, as an international wine company seeks to intrude on the quiet little town of St-Denis. But the townspeople come up with a counter-plan of their own, and all is saved. French inheritance laws also come into play. In the end, Bruno uncovers an old family feud, and justice is served. He is also preoccupied with thoughts about his love life, but that, too, seems to get sorted out at the end. In some ways, the mystery is the least of his worries.

Not much more to say than that. I enjoyed bumping along country roads with Bruno in his van, and hearing his conversations. At one point, Bruno hosts a dinner party, and I will take my habitual quotation from there:

Six shining plates, still warm from the [first-course] omelette, greeted Bruno as he returned with another great platter, the six grilled bécasses [woodcocks] neatly arrayed. Their heads and long beaks were still attached, but each bird had been split down the middle, and six slices of freshly grilled baguette were lined up beside them.
     "This is for Jacqueline [a young visiting Canadian] and Pamela [an Englishwoman and local resident], who have never tasted this delicacy," Bruno said, standing at the head of the table. "Hubert [a vintner], please start by pouring the Saint-Estèphe, and thanks for bringing it. You should all know that the bécasse has a peculiar characteristic. When it is startled and flies from the ground, it evacuates its bowel. This is easy since it has a very simple digestive system, just a single stomach in the shape of a fat tube, which is completely emptied when it takes flight. That tube is a delicacy. When cooked, it softens into a most delicious and creamy consistency, which we spread on the grilled bread."
     He took a long spoon and scraped from the inside of each grilled bird a white tube, perhaps half an inch wide and less than two inches long. He placed each one on a slice of bread, spread it with the back of the spoon, handed one to each of his guests and then served the bird itself.    
      [The group eats, exclaims, toasts, then discuss Hubert's plans for expanding his vineyard so as to "match the best of Bergerac."] "Anyway [says Hubert's wife, Nathalie], we're going to try. But first, I'm going to eat my favorite part of the bécasse."
     She neatly severed the charred head of the bird from the remains of its body, and then picked it up by the beak. She put the head of the bird into her mouth and cracked the thin skull, tossed the beak back into the plate and chewed with evident pleasure. The other French people at the table followed her example. Jacqueline and Pamela stared.
     "I don't believe I'm doing this," said Jacqueline, but copied the others. Very gingerly, Pamela did the same.
     "But that's delicious," said Pamela, obviously surprised. "I thought it would be all bone."
     "One of the secrets of French cooking," said the baron, "is never to let anything go to waste."

The book ends with Bruno, on horseback, seeing a bécasse flying off at the edge of a field and remarking that hunting season is just around the bend. There will be more feasting.

And now, I am one book behind in my reading challenge. I see a children's book in my very near future.