Wine 101: How (Not) to Taste Wine

Wednesdays on the BottleBlog will feature an education session on wine, beer or spirits. Today Shannon Spare shares her experiences as a beginner in the World of Wine.

Drinking wine is easy.

Tasting wine? Is hard.

I thought I had a leg up on my competition when I interviewed for my position at Joe Canal's. "Oh sure, I love wine. I don't really know a whole lot about it, but I've gone to lots of wine festivals and tasted all sorts of wine..."

The truth is, now that I know what "tasting" wine is all about, I realize that I'd never tasted a wine in my life, and if "wine experience" had been a higher job requirement, my resume would have been at the bottom of the pile. Sure - I've drunk lots of wine (lots and lots of wine), but tasting wine is a whole other game, entirely.

I've seen the "pros" at the festivals I've attended: the purple-wearing, tiny pencil-carrying, note-taking spitters. I thought they were positively hilarious, and I watched them in awe as they swirled and sniffed and sipped and, finally, spit. I wondered, as I sampled wine after wine, giddy and warm from the alcohol buzz, how on earth they could be enjoying themselves?

Fast forward to a few weeks ago at my first industry tasting. I walked into the ballroom at the hotel, and I was faced with hundreds and hundreds of wines. I was completely overwhelmed and sought guidance from my co-workers, "Which ones should I taste?"

"All of them. As many as your palate can handle."

Before I know it, I'm wiping wine droplets off my chin and purple shirt because I haven't yet mastered the art of spitting, and trying desperately to write coherent notes with a tiny pencil.

I felt pretty pathetic. I had no idea what I was doing. Where I was positive my co-workers were taking notes like "This wine exhibits a celestial bouquet of blue and black fruits interwoven with notions of camphor, spice, subtle smoke, and incense," my notes consisted of "good!" "yum." "ew," and a whole bunch of asterisks and exclamation points.

After a while, all the reds started to taste the same to me, and my tongue started to almost swell in my mouth. I took that to mean that my palate had had all that it could handle, and I left the tasting overwhelmed and sober.

That's not to say that the tasting was all bad. I actually did enjoy myself, and I learned a lot. Going back over my (sloppy, wine-streaked) notes, I notice a lot of asterisks and exclamation points next to Rieslings. Not having ever really been a white wine person, it's inspired me to buy and try some new things. I learned that sparkling Shiraz isn't anywhere near as disgusting as it sounds; it's actually quite delicious and refreshing. I also learned, after shuddering at the bitterness of a $100 bottle of Cabernet, that a higher price tag doesn't necessarily mean a tastier wine, subjectively.

As luck would have it, the following weekend there was a wine festival a short drive away. My husband and I arranged for a babysitter, and had a "date day." I was looking forward to enjoying some wine, without my boss looming over my shoulder, without the pressure of struggling to identify berries or pencil shavings or "citrus notes." I didn't wear purple, I didn't taste Cabernets, and I didn't spit. But I did listen a little more closely to what the winemakers told me in regard to aging processes, and grape varieties. I took the time to swirl each wine to release the aromas, and to stick my nose in my glass and enjoy each wine's bouquet.

I also took notes with a tiny pencil, that I filed away in my folder marked "Wine Stuff."

Earlier this week, I was walking the aisles of Joe Canal's, and my eye was drawn to a white wine with a pretty label that looked very familiar to me. I pulled out my notes from the festival, and lo and behold, next to the Four Sisters Niagara, I had written "Yes! Delicious + sweet. My favorite!" I picked up a bottle, and I'm really looking forward to enjoying it with a roasted chicken or lobster dinner.

It's a slow process, and I have a lot to learn, but I definitely think I'm getting somewhere. I've started a wine journal where I'm trying to take as detailed notes as my limited palate will allow, or at least keep track of what's good and what's not good to me. Probably the best tidbit I've gotten since starting here came from Mark Ricca, and that would be, "Drink what you like." Wine tasting is very subjective, and while Debbie Miller Nelson may have written "juicy, great raspberry and blueberry flavors, light pepper and a bit of mocha push through a long, silky finish" about Seven Deadly Zins Zinfandel, and I scrawled a barely-legible "BBQ," it doesn't matter what you smell or see or taste or write, what matters is that you find the wines you like, and enjoy them.