How to Order My Books

My latest book, WHISKEY, arrives in May 2016, from Countryman Press, a division of W. W. Norton. WHISKEY covers the history of the venerable brown beverage, the differences between — say — bourbon and scotch, and the abundance of cocktail applications for all the many different whiskeys of the world. Preorder here:

My first book, SHRUBS, premiered in September 2014 also from Countryman. In SHRUBS, I look at the history of the beverage called shrub, from its origins in the Middle East up through to its modern use in the trendiest cocktail bars and restaurants. Order here:

Shrubs on ABC’s Shark Tank

This is interesting.

ABC has a reality program called Shark Tank. I’ve never seen it. Apparently, the idea is that, if you have an idea for a business, you can pitch it to the show, and if the producers feel it has merit, they’ll bring you on and you can pitch the idea to a team of “sharks,” or hard-hitting business tycoons who will decide whether to fund your company.

The season premiere is this Friday, September 25, and it features the McClary Bros. line of drinking vinegars. I’ve had their shrubs, and I’m excited to see that shrubs will get some prime-time attention.

I also have a mercenary motivation for this post. I want people to search online for “Shark Tank” and “drinking vinegars” or “shrubs” or “McClary” and find this page. I want them to click this link: Buy My Books. And then I want them to buy my book. It’s a simple idea, really. Can you blame me?

Weekend recap

I spent my weekend on the road, taking the Acela from Penn Station up to Boston on Saturday.

I stayed with friends Friday and Saturday. On Saturday afternoon, I demoed shrubmaking and signed books at the Boston Shaker in Somerville. The weather was nice, and so there was a good amount of foot traffic past the store. We served shrub cocktails using Privateer rum and moved a fair amount of books. Successful day.

I ended the day at The Hawthorne, attached to the Commonwealth Hotel near the Fenway, and owned by Jackson Cannon, formerly of the Commonwealth’s other bar, Eastern Standard. The Hawthorne is a lovely place, very calming and comfortable, and with a stellar list of cocktails, beers, and wines.

Sunday, I took the Amtrak to Providence. I made my way up to Stock about an hour before the demo was to begin, and I walked that stretch of Hope Street for a few minutes. I used to live in Stock’s neighborhood, and so it felt a little like Old Home Week. The weather, again, was conducive to foot traffic, and we had a lot of people stop by.

At both the Shaker and Stock, I was delighted to sell copies of the book to people who had never previously tasted shrubs. Talking to these folks and then signing books for them were quite fun, and it’s really gratifying to know that the book is reaching new audiences for shrubs.

Here’s a tip I probably shouldn’t share, regarding taking the Amtrak from Penn. At present, Amtrak does a really stupid thing to its riders at Penn and a few other stations. When a Northeast Regional or an Acela Express arrives at Penn, Amtrak announces the track number and then makes everyone line up to go down to the platform level to board the train. So what always happens is, Amtrak announces the track, and a giant knot of people surges toward the escalator down to the platform. I avoid this mess these days by asking for a red-cap, a porter who helps with baggage and gets passengers down to the platform level before the official announcement. So by the time the knot of people has surged down the escalator, I’m seated and ready to roll.


When I was a child, I loved books. I still do, but when I was a child, I was endlessly fascinated with them. I would pick up a book and study it closely, examining the slip jacket; the corners of the cover, where the paper folds over the boards; the point where the body of the book is glued into the hardcover; the little fabric strip at the top, where the spine is glued in. I was fascinated with books as objects, and not just as storehouses of literature or information.



I used to daydream as a child, wondering how books came to be. Who wrote them? How? What happened after that? How did an author’s words become this physical object I’m holding?

When I went to college, I majored in education, but I never pursued it as a career. I entered publishing instead, working first as a proofreader, then as a page-layout tech, and then finally as a copy editor.

Twice, I had the chance to travel offsite to a nearby printing facility to see books being produced. I saw giant rolls of paper; I saw machines making metal plates for the presses; I saw large sheets of paper roll across the plates to collect the ink, and then those sheets folded into signatures. I saw the signatures folded up and collected together and bound up in a certain way, and then inserted into their covers and glued to make a book.

Meanwhile, at the office, I learned how editors acquired and developed new projects, shepherding authors through the writing process to produce a complete manuscript, and then, in my role on the backend, I saw how the manuscript became a fully designed, full laid-out book, ready to go to press.

I even know a thing or two about how indexes are written.

As a child, I daydreamed about how books come into being, and as an adult, I had the chance to see it happen, and to help authors in my own small way to see their words take physical form as a printed book. Even that small part felt like fulfilling a childhood dream; even just the part about seeing the physical processes of printing and binding books was weirdly thrilling to me.

Now, here I am, with one of my own out there, and I cannot explain how much joy I felt to come home on Friday and see these.