My latest read, The Summer Job, was yet another recommendation from my favorite librarian, Ellie. This debut novel by Lizzie Dent is the story of Birdy, a loser Londoner who decides to impersonate her bestie as a world-class sommelier for the summer. Despite being unable to tell a citrus note from a Shasta, Birdy plans to wield her wine goblets at Loch Dorn, a sleepy hotel-slash-restaurant tucked into the Scottish countryside. It'll be an adventure -- and best of all for suddenly homeless Birdy, rent free. But things go, ahem, sideways once she realizes that the so-called hole-in-the-wall B&B is actually a posh spot helmed by a Michelin-starred chef. High profile and demanding, her role as resident grape guru instantly gives her something to worry -- and, yes, wine -- about. One cringeworthy incident after another tempts her to cork the Chablis and hightail it back to London. But the quiet charms of a certain chef (not the Michelin man; he's a wanker) paired with her newfound need to succeed keep her as rooted as the cuckooflower for which she and the kitchen staff forage. Soon, secrets at Loch Dorn and from the home front have Birdy working overtime on more than the wine list, making The Summer Job a classic tale of a screw-up (or, in this case, a screw-top wine aficionado) stepping up to save the day.
This book was the perfect palate cleanser after Nicholas Sparks's beautiful but emotionally draining The Wish. It made me think of silly stuff like wine o' clock somewhere merch, UB40's "Red Wine," and, of course, Step Brothers's Catalina Wine Mixer, even though I don't drink wine -- or anything fermented. It's one of those books that's fun to read but would be a trial to live. At least for me. Pretending to be a wine expert, or really, any hospitality professional, is at the top of my list of nightmare jobs, right under Uber driver and phlebotomist. The stress! The lies! The hangovers! It's no wonder poor Birdy didn't go into cardiac arrest and fall headfirst into a glass of Merlot -- even if she did just that metaphorically, as illustrated on the cover. Indeed, the high-jinks alone are enough to make this novel into a hilarious movie. I see Phoebe Waller-Bridge as Birdy, partly because Dent sort of looks like her but mostly because of her brand of over-the-top, elegant irreverence. (Apparently, this was no accident; in the author discussion at the back of the book, Dent shares that Birdy was partially inspired by Fleabag's title character. Even if Dent did go on to say that she'd choose Gillian Jacobs to play Birdy in a screen adaptation. No disrespect to you, Gillian -- I loved you in Community -- but no one other than Phoebe Fleabag herself should rakishly don Birdy's apron.) As for the fetching foodie, Kit Harrington would do very nicely. His sensitive intensity is just what this recipe requires, even if I'm drawing more upon his performance in Modern Love than Game of Thrones.
But enough fantasy director league chatter. The point is that The Summer Job serves up a grape escape.
No doubt about it; Dent's debut goes down easy.
