Spit or Swallow? Wine Tasting in Bordeaux

Red or white? Spit or swallow? So many dilemmas!

As a Let's Go traveler, it's my job to take these challenges head-on, so I signed myself up for a course at Bordeaux's Maison du Vin—the headquarters of the region's winemakers, and the world capital for all things wine.

They call this part of the building l'Ecole du Vin, or the School of Wine, and it really did feel like September again (the rainy weather didn't help). Sitting on raised tables with our own sinks and exam lights, all that was missing was a surly lab instructor in the back to tell me to sit up straight. After a long lecture on soils, techniques, and history (Frenchmen will blush to know that the English kick-started Bordeaux's wine industry), it was down to the thing we all came for—tasting the wine.

Woah, slow down there. Don't even think of taking a sip. No, not even a sniff. First, hold the glass right: by the stem, not the body, or that cologne you sprayed on your wrist will make any merlot smell like Axe. Ok, now you're ready. Start with the color: tilt the glass and look at the shade of red or yellow. Usually, the older the wine, the darker it is. I saw no difference in the two reds (2009 and 2010; what's a year gonna do?), but the couple next to me was ahem-ing and uh-huh-ing to the instructor's subtle descriptions. Posers.

Next, use your nose. Without jiggling the glass (the time will come), take a whiff. Nothing much yet? Now start swirling, to aerate the wine. Only do this for young wines; it'll kill the vintage vintages. Once you're done, pick your favorite abstract words or fruity adjectives to describe the aroma (citrusy, vivacious, freshly mowed lawn?). Only now can you take a sip. Feel the initial "attack," and start sucking in air over the wine like a congested vacuum cleaner. This isn't a five-star restaurant—slurping sounds are OK. Spit it out or gulp it down, we won't judge. Look intelligent, pick a few more choice words (astringent, earthy, balmy, supple and round with an elegant finish—all of this in French, by the way), and repeat.

And that's how I spent two hours of my afternoon. No, I barely got tipsy, and my nose still can't tell between cabernet sauvignon and cabernet franc. But damn did I look cultured.