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"Here you are, Messere!" The host's voice took his mind off his worries. The man placed a wooden platter in front of him, containing slices of dark bread soaked in a reddish slop. On top were two slabs of cheese with a thick, moldy rind. "And here is some wine, true nectar of Saint Dennis!" he exclaimed, setting down a moist earthenware jug.
"Dionysus," Dante muttered.
"Saint Dionysus?"
"No, Dionysus the god."
"By God, Messere, you are right; the other was Saint Damian."
The prior dismissed him with a nod and looked around for a spoon. He resigned himself to using his fingers, and after having rolled up his sleeves, scooped up and swallowed a dripping mouthful. Not so bad, aside from the mold on the cheese, and not too different from what the kitchens of the Priors' Palazzo dished out, he thought as he fell upon the wine.

-The Mosaic Crimes by Giulio Leoni, Anne Milano Appel

There are some books which sound good in the description, but wind up being disappointing to me. Sad to say, this is one of those. I typically enjoy reading books that are along the lines of The Last Cato, The Da Vinci Code, or Labyrinth. They are not exactly what I would call fine literature, but they are entertaining and keep me on the edge of my seat.

This book, centered around Dante Alighieri and his quest to solve a handful of mysterious crimes, never swept me into the story. Dante was portrayed not as a hero, but more as a self-centered jerk and in the end did little that was impressive. The only real impressive thing was how often he managed to be in a tavern and seem to only subsist on wine. The above quote is the only mention of food in the entire book (at least that I recall).