Mystery review: Chef Maurice and the Wrath of Grapes

Chef Maurice and the Wrath of Grapes
(Chef Maurice Culinary Mysteries Book 2)
Genre
Cozy Mystery (English Village, Culinary)
File Size: 489 KB
Print Length: 168 pages
Publisher: Purple Panda Press (July 13, 2015)
ASIN: B00WET7X64



Publisher's Synopsis:

An invitation to dinner at the home of renowned wine collector Sir William Burton-Trent soon finds Chef Maurice in the middle of an all-too-real murder mystery party, when Sir William is found dead in his own wine cellar.

The guests are acting all innocent, but which one is only playing the part? The pushy Californian film director? The seductive French winemaker?

Or could it be, against all narrative decency, the butler who did it?

With the help of food critic friend Arthur Wordington-Smythe, a large kipper sandwich, and the newly formed Cochon Rouge Wine Appreciation Society, Chef Maurice must get to the bottom of matters before events turn decidedly sour…

As you can see, this review is part of a book tour. That means I got the book for free, but the review opinions remain my own.

My Review:

Chef Maurice and the Wrath of Grapes, in addition to making a nice literary jest in the title, was an engaging read. I found the characters well-written, though I admit to liking the minor characters (Patrick, Alf, and Lucy) best. Maurice himself is a bit over the top, and Arthur is enigmatic. Every character has flaws and virtues, and even those that seem to be types prove themselves to be a bit deeper.

I might have liked the murder victim a bit too much for comfort, but the author did manage to bring off the killing before I became too attached. The murder (victim, scene and all) is well within the bounds of the cozy mystery. The killer is maybe a bit too easy to pick out, (I guess this could be a spoiler, so jump to the next paragraph if you are worried) as the least likeable character (in my opinion. There may be room for debate). Though on reflection, quite a few of the possible suspects are a bit on the unlikeable side.

The plot/mystery is moderately complex, with some aspects fairly opaque to those (like me) not at all into wine, though the oenophilic elements are presented well. Though I suspected who and even how (in a general sense) from early on, it was beyond me to work out why or the details.

Finally, there is a nice touch of slightly comic romance worked into the subplot with the minor characters, complete with it's own minor mystery. All elements came together well, to make for a book I zipped through with pleasure, though it doesn't have a lot of substance. Although I did spot a few minor editing/proofing issues, I had a pre-publication copy, so I will trust they get picked up in the final proofing.

Recommendation:
A nice addition to the British-country-house cozy genre, of the light variety (what around my house we call "brain candy," and that's no insult!) (it occurs to me that should be a wine pun, except I don't know wines well enough to make the joke). If that's your thing, go for it! Bonus if you are exceedingly fond of good food and wine.


Full Disclosure: I was given a copy of Chef Maurice and the Wrath of Grapes as part of a blog tour, and received nothing further from the writer or publisher in exchange for my honest review.  The opinions expressed are my own and those of no one else.  I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising."


About The Author
J.A. Lang is a British mystery writer, and author of the Chef Maurice Mysteries series.
She lives in Oxford, England, with her husband, an excessive number of cookbooks, and a sourdough starter named Bob.
Author Links
J.A. Lang’s Website
J.A. Lang on Goodreads
J.A. Lang on Facebook



Don't just take my word for it--check out some of the other reviewers on this tour!

TOUR PARTICIPANTS
July 14 – Book Splurge – Review
July 15 – The Ninja Librarian – Review
July 16 – readalot – Review
July 17 – Shelley’s Book Case– Review
July 18 – 3 Partners in Shopping, Nana, Mommy, &, Sissy, Too ! – Spotlight
July 19 – Sapphyria’s Book Reviews – Spotlight
July 20 – Carole’s Book Corner – Review
July 21 – MysteriesEtc – Review
July 22 – LibriAmoriMiei – Review
July 23 – Frankie Bow – Spotlight
July 24 – Mochas, Mysteries and Meows – Review
July 25 – StoreyBook Reviews – Spotlight

Flash Fiction Friday! "The Vintage Explorer"

This week Jemima Pett and I joined forces to give each other a flash fiction prompt, since Chuck Wendig didn't provide one (he's giving people a chance to share and talk about their NaNo Novels instead). Since we aren't participating, and because we really like doing flash fiction, Jemima and I exchanged prompts. She sent me a couple of titles and a challenge, which I will be using over the next few weeks.  Her title for the week is "The Evil Locket."  And today, I give you 962 words of...

The Vintage Explorer

Algernon picked his way among the casks, ears swiveling and whiskers alert. It was here somewhere, the source of the new and intriguing smell that had tormented him all day. He’d been lying up in his nest, trying to sleep, and all day his nose had kept twitching. It was no good going out in the day, though. Even if he didn't get stepped on or have a cask dropped on him, someone might see him. Then they would set out traps for him to stumble into, or even bring in a cat!

Dreadful things, cats. A cat might appear to be a big ball of sleeping fur, but in an instant it would become all sharp teeth and sharper claws. No, Algernon was too wise a mouse to go out in the day time. It wasn't as though he needed light to find his way around the cellar. He waited patiently until all the large bumbling humans went away before he stuck so much as a whisker out of his hole.

Algernon's nose led him down among the great casks. Those all smelled as usual. Nothing interesting about the wine in them—until he reached the small cask at the end of the row. There, his nose twitched more fiercely than ever. This was the one.

The humans had been agitated about it all day. There had been much coming and going up and down the line of casks, every crashing passage of tramping feet awakening Algernon in his nest. He was safe in his home inside the wall but he couldn't sleep on account of the noise. And the scent.

Algernon gave a great yawn. Then he walked around the small cask, sniffing as he went. This one might do. It really might. The humans had seemed somehow distressed about it. They could tell that it wasn't going in quite the usual way. But they were too senseless, poor creatures with great useless noses, to notice what Algernon did. This was the wine he'd been seeking all his cellar-exploring life.

At that moment, Algernon heard footsteps approaching, and he had just enough time to hide under the wooden walkway before the door opened and a blinding light came on. Two humans came down the walkway.

“This is the one, Boss,” said the human in a shirt that stood open at the neck. “We were trying for something that would go well with some of the new cheeses from the dairy.” He shrugged. “But sometimes experiments just don't work out.”

“I’m disappointed, Charlie, but I understand. After all, that's why we experiment in smaller quantities.” The man wearing a suit and tie pried open the top of the cask and sniffed. “It's not awful,” he said.

The other man unhooked a small cup from his belt and dipped it carefully in the liquid. “Taste it. You'll see.”

The suit sipped, swirled the drink about in his mouth, and spat onto the floor, to the evident distress of the other man. Algernon was shocked. What kind of person would spit in the very place where the most amazing wines were made? Who would spit out that heavenly brew in the small cask? Surely even humans were better than that! The spattered liquid spread the smell more strongly than ever. Algernon held his breath and kept listening.

“Take it and dump it tomorrow,” Suit ordered. “You'll probably have to burn the cask. You'll never get that cheesy overtone out of the oak.”

Dump it? Get rid of the best wine they'd ever made, and destroy the oak for a cheesy overtone? Algernon stiffened in shock.

“Right, Boss,” Charlie answered, tapping the lid back in place on the cask. As they walked away, he cast one look back, and shrugged. He turned off the light and closed the door behind him.

Algernon came out of his hiding place. He took one final sniff at the keg, and the wine that had been spattered on the floor, and flicked his tail in satisfaction. Then he ran to the far end of the cellar, crept into a large hole, sat back on his haunches and gave a mighty squeak.

A veritable battalion of mice appeared from all directions. Working quickly at Algernon’s direction, they tipped the cask carefully on its side, rolled it the dozen or so feet to the hole, which several mice were quickly enlarging by removing several loose planks, and rolled the cask down a long passage into a surprisingly large room in the heart of a wall built to look like the thick wall of a castle. Setting the cask carefully upright on a small dais, the stepped back. Another team of mice appeared from the other direction, rolling a pair of immense wheels of cheese.

“The humans rejected these. They said these cheeses smelled too strongly of cheese!” All the mice laughed. Humans were weird.

“Roll them right here up next to the wine,” Algernon ordered. “And let the feast begin!”

“Three cheers for the explorer of the best vintages!” called an old mouse, and the room filled with enthusiastic squeaks.

#
“Hey, Charlie, didn’t you say to haul that experimental keg off this morning?” A worker called across the room.

“Yeah, the boss said to get rid of it.”

“It ain’t here.”

Algernon sat up feet thudding past his hole, making his head ache worse than ever.

“Huh. Boss must’ve sent someone down earlier to make sure. Fine, less work for us. Though you know, I kind of liked the stuff,” Sam said under his breath, casting a glance around the room.

Algernon lay back down with a smile. Once again they had outwitted the humans. The mice would party for a year on that cask.

###

©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2014