Cochran’s verbal condescension can be jarring, as well. “Whew! Are you still with me?” she asks, ending one short, clear, simple chapter. Following the use of the word “volatile,” she writes, “… no, that doesn’t mean it’s prone to late-night drunken romps, nor does it have a rap sheet longer than your last cell phone bill” (and this directly under the heading, “Taste Like a Pro”). It’s also unnecessary to point out at least three times that Botrytis cinerea means “noble rot.”

The design of the book is (like its content) simple and clear, if lacking in visual interest. The headers would be more useful and easier to read on the outside, rather than the inside, of the page. Some headings and subheads use identical font types and sizes, making the organization of subcategories occasionally confusing. The boxes scattered throughout each chapter provide interesting facts and history.

The information contained in the Appendix is excellent, including a brief list of good wines that cost less than $10 a bottle. There is a pronunciation guide whose items would be better placed immediately following each foreign name or term, rather than in the back of the book. The “Region, Producer, and Vintage Guide” also included in the Appendix contains excellent information, but its layout is a nightmare: hard on the eyes, cramped, and full of columns filled with blank space.

Although Hip Tastes strives (and succeeds) in making complicated material accessible to first-timers, Cochran writes that “the kind of stuff” she prefers is the “really excellent, top stuff.” This type of wine demands an approach of subtlety and sophistication to understand and appreciate it. The disjunct between Cochran’s object of passion and her stated mission gives her product a good but less-than-perfect taste.