21 Wines

I took a turn through wine country last weekend with a fistful of lovely young ladies who had been waiting for this trip for more than a year.

 The occasion was my baby’s 21st birthday. She made me promise a long time ago that I would host her friends for a wine-tasting weekend, so on a sunny Saturday afternoon, we set off for Vintner’s Village in Prosser. We had a lovely day, even though I might have put a tiny little damper on the newbies’ first wine tour by telling them to spit and dump. Gross, right?

Sorry, but it’s true. The best wine tasting days end when you can sit down with a nice bottle of something you’ve just discovered, and still enjoy it.

Anyway, they asked for it. At our first stop, everyone just milled around the parking lot, waiting for someone to lead the way. Turns out, that was supposed to be me. So I steered them into the nearest tasting room. The bar was crowded, and the girls politely waited in the background. They shuffled their feet. They looked at me. They waited some more. The tasting room attendant checked their IDs, then gave us all a pour of a lovely Chardonnay. I swirled my glass. Some of them swirled theirs. I sniffed. They sniffed. I sipped. They sipped. I reached for the dump bucket. They stared at me in disbelief.

Hey, if they didn’t want my advice, they shouldn’t have asked for it. Over the afternoon, we tasted around 25 different wines, but I probably actually consumed less than one glass. But I could tell them which one was my favorite (Thurston Wolfe’s 2007 Geologist, a fabulous blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, Merlot and Syrah). I could also pick out the wine (which shall remain nameless) that was my least favorite. The 20-somethings told me the wines all ran together in their minds.

Actually, that’s a normal reaction after an afternoon of wine tasting. Unless they are taking notes like wine geeks, most people sip and chat and sip and chat and sip some more, and end the day in looove with all red wine everywhere. All of it. That’s not exactly the kind of discovery most of us hope for.

My posse did discover a few things. Dumping is good. Swirling the wine opens up the aromas.

  “Legs” in a wine means…I forget (and who really cares, anyway?).

 Petite Syrah is not even related to Syrah.

  Friendly service makes for a great tasting room.

There’s more to wine touring than just the wines.

And at the end of the day, it’s still good to be able to enjoy something cold and refreshing. Even if it isn’t wine.