A Layman Explores Wine 6

by William Powell

Beneath that cultured, civilised surface lurk chaos and temptation … to do almost anything! I have yet to attend a wine tasting that did not have “memorable” consequences.

Sneaky and mean

One of the most harmless consequences was the “off-dry” rosé that once lived in our cellar for months. While innocently sampling wines at an industrial trade fair, I had let myself be “persuaded” to buy some. Sneaky lot - who expects those fellows at an event like that? And then they had some really delicious bruschetta sitting around. A bit salty, perhaps, but that was what the little glasses of wine were for, wasn’t it? And before I knew it, the delivery company had brought six cases of the stuff, which you could really only drink if you were already drunk … or had eaten enough salty bruschetta. Or both.

The secrets of wine tasting

I have done some quite different things at - or perhaps more accurately after - wine tastings, too. Among other things, I won a poetry slam. Anyone who has known me for more than 10 minutes generally begins to suspect that I have much the same arrangement with poetry as I do with wine. I know there is good poetry out there, and I believe I have even read or heard some … but I myself am neither capable of recognising it nor producing it. Which is why I cannot explain how the work “Uncle Tom in the Land of Alpine Lodge Magic” ever came into being. Or how it ended that daft evening with the distinction “especially valuable”. Perhaps the judges had been at the same wine tasting beforehand …

How a wine tasting works

Your latest gem

The last time I fell for it was when a good friend’s father took me aside during one of our visits and said he “absolutely had to show me his latest gem”. Naturally, it was a wine, specifically a red called Hensel und Gretel, which he had brought back from one of his little excursions. I really do not know why the poor man keeps trying to expose his treasures to my woefully untrained palate, but he does not give up. Even though he seems invariably appalled by my reactions - as he was this time, too.

A different tactic

I tried a new tactic and told him I could taste cherry (in truth, I tasted nothing of the sort; I had simply heard it somewhere!). The look he gave me was quite something to behold. And then off we went again, and I was presented with wine that was supposed to have a hint of cherry. From there, we worked our way towards the really simple ones, hopped over to the whites and even took a detour into flavoured wine (thanks to retsina, I managed not to spit it out).

Small but mighty

All in positively tiny glasses. With water and bread in between. Over almost two hours. My wife still reminds me that she not only had to drive me home, but also carry me upstairs and throw me into bed. I was so drunk that I could no longer manage any of it myself. Speaking of my wife and wine tastings. Until I went to one of those tastings with her, we had been nothing more than colleagues. Then we went to a wine tasting. Now we are married and have two wonderful children. Did I mention that, on the whole, I think wine tastings are rather wonderful?