Acquired Tastes

I’ll admit, I approached *Acquired Tastes* expecting something lighter—maybe a few chuckles about rich people being silly. Instead, Mayle delivers a series of essays that are *funny*, yes, but also weirdly profound in their dissection of consumerism. The standout for me was the piece on ‘investment-grade’ wine, where Mayle skewers the idea that a bottle’s value lies in anything but the story we tell ourselves about it. Sachs’ narration elevates this further; his delivery is so effortlessly posh that when he deadpans lines like, *“The true connoisseur can detect notes of blackberry, leather, and the faintest hint of buyer’s remorse,”* it lands like a dagger wrapped in velvet. That said, the pacing isn’t perfect. A few essays in the middle—particularly the one about luxury pet accessories—feel like they’re treading similar ground, and Sachs’ cadence occasionally verges on *too* smooth, sanding off some of Mayle’s sharper edges. But when it hits, it *hits*. The final essay, a mock manifesto for a ‘Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Millionaires,’ had me rewinding to catch every line. The production quality is impeccable (no distracting edits or volume jumps), and at under five hours, it’s the rare audiobook that respects your time while leaving you satisfied. If you’ve ever rolled your eyes at a ‘curated’ anything or a ‘bespoke’ experience, this is your audiobook. Just don’t listen while online shopping—you might laugh yourself out of a purchase.