The first the thing that came to mind as I scrolled the pages of The Magpie’s Guide to Montalcino (Constellations 2024) was Natalia Ginzburg’s autobiography Lessico famigliare — Family Sayings, as it has been translated into English.

A more slavish of the title could be our family’s [secret] language, in other words, the intimate code that a family uses for internal communication and affection. Like the nicknames I have for my daughters or the pseudo-idiolectal terms we use for foods, dogs, restaurants, experiences, etc., and anything that makes our family unalike from any other.

Laura Gray’s new book on Montalcino and its idiosyncrasies offers a sort of ABCs — that great Britannic genre — a legend by which the legendary city and wine capital may be decoded and interpreted.

Her almanackic writing broadly reflects her unique experience in the city of the holm oak. Laura — disclosure: a close friend of ours — is perfectly bilingual and has lived in Sangiovese city for the better part of her life. She’s also a wine industry insider. She ran one of Brunello’s most high-profile wineries for many years.

But what’s most remarkable about this new book is its dissection of Montalcino’s idiosyncratic lexicon. Words there often have meanings that stand at least a few degrees apart from the constitution of peninsular Italian.

Take her entry for Prato, where the Italian word for meadow takes on a special toponymic value in the context of the Montalcino-verse.

Or her entry for “VIP” where she shares some of the impossible celebrity that makes its way to this erstwhile Tuscan backwater. It reminds me of the time that I sat down for a serendipitous chat with the great Italian publisher Valentino Bompiani who just happened to be vacationing there.

Space doesn’t allow me to share the scores among 300 entries that had me grinning and often falling out of my seat with laughter and wonder. Even the most jaded wine professionals will find her more technical entries fascinating because of the insights they reveal.

Montalcino is a genuine singularity, I would even say, a hyperobject that fascinates and often enchants us. The Magpie’s Guide offers a new syntax to drink in the magical mystery of that timeless city on the hill.