
On the Correct Use of the Logbook
A logbook is not a diary. It is not a place to record your fleeting emotional states or your grocery lists. It is a sacred text, a ledger of your encounters with the sublime.
I have provided fifty pages in each of my guides for this express purpose, and I expect them to be treated with the reverence they deserve.
First, always use a pen of good quality. A fountain pen is preferred, though a rollerball is acceptable in a pinch. Pencils imply a lack of commitment to your opinions.
Second, be precise. "It tasted good" is an observation fit only for a child eating a sugar cube. Describe the nose, the palate, the finish. Note the temperature of the cheese, the vintage of the wine, the name of the hapless server who failed to chill your champagne adequately.
Third, do not be afraid to be critical. The pursuit of excellence requires a discerning eye and an unforgiving palate. If a truffle lacks depth, say so. If a whiskey tastes of despair, commit it to the record.
These logbooks are your legacy. Should you perish unexpectedly, they will stand as a testament to your good taste. Do not embarrass your descendants.
Yours, with a raised brow and a raised glass,

