Race, Taste and the Grape traces the history of the South African wine industry from its origins in the early colonial period to the racialized Liquor Act of 1928 to the deregulation that marked the end of apartheid rule in the 1990s. The project was initially stymied by poorly kept records; however, persistent inquiries led Paul Nugent to a different set of archives that provided insights into farmer-company relations and market research. He paired this archival work with a close examination of the history of specific farms, government proceedings, and interviews with industry leaders. Through this creative and meticulous approach to sourcing evidence, Nugent makes an important contribution to the historiography of South Africa and the global wine industry by fleshing out the largely untold story of South African wine.

Using chronology as his organizing framework, Nugent begins his in-depth analysis with the Liquor Act of 1928, an act which rendered it illegal to sell wine to Black South Africans. He demonstrates how the law set in motion consumption patterns that would prove hard to break, even after the law was repealed in the 1960s in an attempt to open the consumer base and address overproduction. This example — limited wine consumption alongside overproduction — is just one of the many tensions that Nugent highlights. The wine industry faced structural issues, such as the desire to expand the market for wine while at the same time tackling alcohol abuse and negotiating with powerful temperance movements. Highly regulated during much of the twentieth century, the industry also found itself bound by government priorities, such as helping (white) farmers secure an income and avoiding racialized fears about “Poor Whites” falling below their station.

The democratic transition of 1994 marked the end of international isolation and strict government oversight. In many ways, this deregulation opened the doors to innovation that improved the quality of the wine. Yet deregulation also led to increasing job insecurity for many farm workers and little in the way of structural changes, as the industry remained “overwhelming white” (284).

Through his examination of structural tensions, Nugent tracks the relationship between race (and the entrenched racial inequities in the country), taste (including domestic and international consumption patterns), and the grape (varietals planted, as well as damage caused by disease). The book shows how intertwined race and industry were. Racial categories and stereotypes were normalized in “everyday thinking and drinking” (6) that also articulated with class, ethnicity, and gender. Ultimately, market strategies “reinscribed racial categories” (194), despite the supposed de-racialization of the industry after the end of the Liquor Act.

Using this approach, Nugent addresses gaps in the literature on the South African wine industry. He argues that South Africa has largely been left on the margins of wine histories. Furthermore, existing scholarship on the South African wine industry has predominantly focused on labor issues and on the paternalism of the dop stelsel (or tot system), in which farm owners would pay their workers in part through a measure of cheap wine. Instead, Nugent uses an in-depth discussion of markets and consumption to bring a new, more globally situated, exploration of the wine industry.

Because of its thorough research, Race, Taste and the Grape is an invaluable source for anyone working on the wine industry in South Africa and beyond. Despite the innumerable strengths of this work, the book does, at times, seem encumbered by its attention to detail. Nugent aims to look at “history in a wine glass” (1), but that history can become so focused on the wine glass that connections to larger structures and processes within South Africa can be sidelined. For example, I would have liked to see a more in-depth discussion of how the wine industry compared to other agricultural industries within the country to evaluate how much the industry reflected or challenged patterns observed in citrus, maize, and wool. What might looking at history through a wine glass reveal that looking at it through an orange might not? Finally, despite the inclusion of “race” in the title and attention to race in discussions of marketing and consumption patterns, much of the book seems to concentrate on tensions between various (white) constituencies: farmers, marketers, and temperance movements. That focus stems largely from the author's decision to focus on industry archives and not look closely at labor. In the end, the point of view elucidated remains that of white industry decision-makers.

Race, Taste and the Grape should become essential reading for those interested in how a wine industry grows and evolves within a specific geographical, political, and historic context. I foresee the book being included in the wine-industry canon and serving as a springboard for future research projects. Indeed, Nugent leaves readers on a hopeful note: while the COVID-19 pandemic magnified existing inequities, he finds new, creative marketing strategies that show “one does not need to be white and bearded to make wine” in today's South Africa (319).