The First Time I Went Wine Tasting

I remember my first proper wine tasting surprisingly well.

Not because I discovered an extraordinary talent for identifying wines.

Quite the opposite.

Years later, I can confidently confirm that I still have very little idea what I'm doing.

But it was summer, I was visiting a vineyard for the first time, and everything about the experience felt new.

The vines.

The landscape.

The quietness of the place.

And then someone handed me a blindfold.

Apparently, drinking wine wasn't going to be quite as straightforward as I'd imagined.

Before tasting anything, we were given different aromas to smell.

The idea was simple: learn to recognize them individually first, so that later, when tasting the wines, we might be able to find those same notes in the glass.

Fruit.

Flowers.

Spices.

Wood.

Things I had smelled a thousand times before but had never stopped to properly identify.

It was fascinating.

With my eyes covered, everything seemed stronger somehow.

An essence would appear beneath my nose and I'd try to guess what it was.

Sometimes successfully.

Other times...

Let's just say confidence and accuracy were not always travelling together that afternoon.

Fortunately, there was also an exquisite cheese board nearby.

And this is where the educational experience became considerably more interesting.

The person helping me with the aromas developed a little system.

An aroma beneath my nose.

Then a glass of wine.

Then a piece of cheese.

Another aroma.

Another sip.

Another piece of cheese.

Honestly, I was an excellent student.

Wine followed by cheese, I discovered, is a fairly lethal combination.

In the best possible way.

I was beginning to understand the rhythm of the whole thing.

Smell.

Taste.

Cheese.

Think.

Repeat.

Easy.

And then, somewhere in the middle of all that very serious sensory education, something new appeared for me to taste.

His lips.

That one wasn't on the tasting sheet.

It was unexpected enough to make me laugh.

And perhaps that's why I remember it so clearly.

One second I was concentrating very seriously on whatever aroma had just been placed beneath my nose.

The next, apparently, the tasting had become slightly less official.

No notes required.

No need to identify aromas, texture or finish.

Although, for once, I was fairly confident I liked what I'd tasted.

Then we went straight back to the wine.

As though this were a perfectly normal addition to the experience.

Wine.

Cheese.

Aroma.

A kiss.

Right.

Very educational.

Eventually, the blindfold came off and the difficult part began.

We had sheets to complete.

For each wine, we were supposed to write down what we'd discovered.

The aromas.

The flavors.

The texture.

The different notes.

I looked at my glass.

I looked at the sheet.

I tasted again.

I looked at everyone else writing things with alarming confidence.

Apparently, they'd found entire orchards, forests and spice cabinets inside their glasses.

I had found...

wine.

Again.

Very good wine, admittedly.

But wine.

I tried.

I really did.

I'd smell the glass.

Take another sip.

Pause thoughtfully.

Look at my notes.

And hope that perhaps the wine would eventually introduce itself properly.

It did not.

Luckily, I had my own wine expert nearby.

Which made the whole experience much easier, and significantly more entertaining.

I could taste something, make a completely uneducated observation, and then wait for the actual explanation.

Years later, not much has changed.

I've learned more about wine since that afternoon.

I know what I enjoy. I've discovered grapes I love, wines I'd happily order again and others that simply aren't for me.

But ask me to identify six different aromas in a glass with absolute confidence and there's a very good chance I'll still look toward my favorite wine expert for help.

Some things are better delegated.

What I do know is that I loved that first vineyard.

I loved learning that wine isn't simply something you drink. There is history in it, patience, weather, land, choices, tiny differences that completely change what eventually reaches your glass.

And I loved discovering it through smell and taste rather than simply being told about it.

Although my personal tasting sequence may have been slightly unconventional.

Aroma.

Wine.

Cheese.

Wine.

Unexpected kiss.

More cheese.

I don't believe that's the official method.

But for a first wine tasting?

I wouldn't change a thing 🤍

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