Rare is the classic piece of crime fiction that doesn’t owe some part of its aesthetic to booze. Whether due to the author’s own vice, (e.g., Raymond Chandler), or lead character thirst, (e.g., Matt Scudder, Harry Hole, etc.,) alcohol is perhaps the strongest and most enduring tradition of the crime genre.
As you ponder your next reading selection, consider the following booze/book pairings to heighten your appreciation of both word and bottle. Worst-case scenario, you’ll be contributing to the time-honored tradition of whiskey-stained covers and wine-soaked pages.
1) Marathon Man by William Goldman. What drink is strong enough to get you through the most brutal dental torture scene in literary history? There can be only one – the gin martini. The best gin for a sublime, mind-numbing experience is Greylock or Churchill’s favorite, Boodles. I’d be remiss not to mention Travis McGee preferred Plymouth. Best vodka? None. There’s no such thing as a vodka martini (Apologies to Mr. Bond and Ian Fleming). If you want more of Mr. Goldman’s brilliance, he also wrote the screenplay for Butch Cassidy & The Sundance Kid, which can’t be watched with anything other than whiskey. I recommend three-fingers of Bulleit Frontier Whiskey and liberal refills.
2) The Fletch Series by Gregory Mcdonald. Like the first of the film adaptations, all the novels are a smart-ass romp through an investigation that always manages to surprise with superior intelligence and plot complexity. Despite his newspaperman ethos and surfer/stoner vibration, Irwin M. Fletcher has a cultured backstory and Old World booze pallet. If you’re reading him at the beach, fill the cooler with Heineken, Stella Artois, or Sixpoint’s Sweet Action. At home, in front of the fire, ready a bottle of Scotch just like Fletch enjoys in Confess, Fletch. If you’re feeling strong and don’t mind a few extra chest hairs when you wake in the morning, I’d recommend Lagavulin. A more laid back approach is supported by Balvenie PortWood.
3) The Godfather by Mario Puzo. This, in my opinion, is the most influential work of popular art in the last fifty years. The novel’s appeal stretches from back alley to boardroom, from garbage men to congressmen. And the only drink with that kind of historical flexibility and multi-class attraction is red wine. Since you probably can’t get your hands on a straw-covered flask of home-pressed, table wine still made in parts of Brooklyn, Newark and South Philly, go for traditional Chianti. To ensure quality, look for a black rooster on the bottleneck, which guarantees the wine comes from the Classico district or subzone.
As you ponder your next reading selection, consider the following booze/book pairings to heighten your appreciation of both word and bottle. Worst-case scenario, you’ll be contributing to the time-honored tradition of whiskey-stained covers and wine-soaked pages.
1) Marathon Man by William Goldman. What drink is strong enough to get you through the most brutal dental torture scene in literary history? There can be only one – the gin martini. The best gin for a sublime, mind-numbing experience is Greylock or Churchill’s favorite, Boodles. I’d be remiss not to mention Travis McGee preferred Plymouth. Best vodka? None. There’s no such thing as a vodka martini (Apologies to Mr. Bond and Ian Fleming). If you want more of Mr. Goldman’s brilliance, he also wrote the screenplay for Butch Cassidy & The Sundance Kid, which can’t be watched with anything other than whiskey. I recommend three-fingers of Bulleit Frontier Whiskey and liberal refills.
2) The Fletch Series by Gregory Mcdonald. Like the first of the film adaptations, all the novels are a smart-ass romp through an investigation that always manages to surprise with superior intelligence and plot complexity. Despite his newspaperman ethos and surfer/stoner vibration, Irwin M. Fletcher has a cultured backstory and Old World booze pallet. If you’re reading him at the beach, fill the cooler with Heineken, Stella Artois, or Sixpoint’s Sweet Action. At home, in front of the fire, ready a bottle of Scotch just like Fletch enjoys in Confess, Fletch. If you’re feeling strong and don’t mind a few extra chest hairs when you wake in the morning, I’d recommend Lagavulin. A more laid back approach is supported by Balvenie PortWood.
3) The Godfather by Mario Puzo. This, in my opinion, is the most influential work of popular art in the last fifty years. The novel’s appeal stretches from back alley to boardroom, from garbage men to congressmen. And the only drink with that kind of historical flexibility and multi-class attraction is red wine. Since you probably can’t get your hands on a straw-covered flask of home-pressed, table wine still made in parts of Brooklyn, Newark and South Philly, go for traditional Chianti. To ensure quality, look for a black rooster on the bottleneck, which guarantees the wine comes from the Classico district or subzone.