I don’t typically spit. It’s an embarrassing admission, given that I’ve now passed numerous WSET tasting exams. (Although, I have failed enough others to keep me from the diploma, hmmm.) From the start of an even half serious wine education, you are taught to spit out the wines you are tasting. Fear not, they say, you can assess a wine without swallowing any. Trouble is, I’ve never really believed that. I’ve always been more of the Hugh Johnson school, I can never completely make up my mind about a wine until it is where it belongs; in my stomach with some food. Also, I have a deeply ingrained bias against spitting. It was frowned upon by most of the mothers in the cul-de-sac I grew up on, including my own. There is also that scene from The Outlaw Josey Wales where Josey spits tobacco on the sidewalk, right in front of Granny, and she replies, “Nasty habit mister. You born in a barn?” Her glare causes him to sheepishly swallow his tobacco in the future.
So yeah, I was taught not to spit. And now everyone was saying I should. It’s a dilemma I’ve gotten around by various means in various circumstances; if visiting wineries for enjoyment, I would rarely, if ever, spit. I have mostly moved past the early addition of me, whose brain was still back in the Navy, yelling for free drinks. (The tastings a decade ago were free, or a buck or two.) I haven’t drank just for the alcohol in many years, and no, that’s not the same as saying I never get drunk. These days mostly I just get tipsy.
Another concern about spitting would be the circumstances. Am I in a barrel room, or am I at a fancy dining establishment. Obviously most people wouldn’t spit in a fancy restaurant, you’re probably there to eat the food and drink the wine, but sometimes the lines get fuzzy. We were recently having lunch at Ryan William, certainly a winery that takes it’s wines seriously. Michael is the consummate host and will bring you a spittoon (spit cup) if you ask for it. Sometimes I wonder though, what do the diners that aren’t wine enthusiasts say to him? Are they repulsed by other diners drinking wine and spitting it back out. I’ll have to ask Michael sometime, my guess is he will say that it’s always about educating the client. And perhaps being discreet…
One circumstance I hadn’t really experienced was doing a professional style tasting at several wineries, for an extended (all day) period of time. Recently the opportunity presented itself and I find in the aftermath that I’m possibly a changed man. Setting up a day long, multi-winery tasting with an esteemed winemaker presented a lot of other pitfalls of embarrassment; how to alert them that we were coming to visit and bringing a possible VIP without sounding like an arrogant ass. (I still need some practice on that one, it’s a work in progress.) It quickly became evident as the day began, that I would have to drastically curtail my consumption if I were to maintain my position as designated driver. We were tasting far more wines at each stop than would be typical, you might think that was not a bad problem to have, but it forced some quick adjustments. At first, I allowed myself to swallow a very small amount of each wine, but by the second stop I was spitting it all out. By the third stop something was becoming evident; my palate was still fresh and intact, and I continued to be aware of nuance.
Please don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I had been spending my afternoons rollicking around the region weaving in and out of carriages and tour buses in an alcohol induced frenzy, I’m saying I had been saturating my palate, my senses, by consuming too much of what I was tasting. Now, I was in the later stage of a day, tasting what, for me, was an incredibly large number of different wines, and I felt fresh. It’s given me something to ponder, because I felt that I maintained a really good rapport with the others in my company. We didn’t always see eye to eye, but I could almost always get their point, and they mine. I was getting the essence of the thing, without the alcohol. Ponder indeed.
I’m thinking of spending a day teaching myself to spit. If I can learn to do it effortlessly and discreetly it might take some of the curse off. Said winemaker friend has advised me that spitting water is not good training for wine (different viscosities and all that), so it has to be wine. I don’t need the skills of an elite spitting athlete, just enough practice to be accurate (and discreet) will serve nicely. Or at least not to have a red stained beard and shirt at the end of the day. That might be a more achievable goal.
Spit or don’t spit. What is the etiquette of the thing? I think I’m starting to figure it out. For instance, anytime I’m tasting someone’s wines where I’m expected to offer an honest, unbiased opinion, I’m going to be spitting from now on. Although I’m still an amateur, if I’m going to be writing blog posts about someone’s wine, I guess I probably owe them that courtesy. Other than that, if I’m having fun, and have a ride home, drink up.
2020 Hosmer Skin Ferment Riesling.
I realize this is another Hosmer wine but, damn, Julia has game. This wine gets my vote for most interesting, and therefore best, wine of the day. It’s a wonderful Riesling and all that, great balance and structure certainly, but there is something to it that none of us could quite place. Savory perhaps? Some exotic fruit? I perceived it as a certain lift, right where the mid-palate met the finish. We all lacked the words. It was, as the general manager Brooke (also our gracious pourer) put it, a certain “je ne sais quoi”. A wine that has four people grasping to verbalize a shared experience that seems different to all. Really, what more can one demand of fermented grape juice?
I once had a shared experience with half a dozen friends. We were all sitting on a deck of a summer’s evening, really it was a wake for our friend’s husband and we had all been drinking. I don’t know who saw it first, but gradually we all fell silent and we’re looking up in the sky at… something. A light that just hung there without making a sound? A lamp shade beaming it’s light downward? Did it fade out or shoot away silently? This was fifteen years ago. I still see some of those friends occasionally and we never agree on the details, but we all know we saw something. Something not typical. A UFO? Well, it was in the sky and we couldn’t identify it, I guess that’s my only response. It was a shared experience that is still one after all these years. I wouldn’t be surprised if this wine remains one as well. Oh yeah, I didn’t spit.
Cheers, Jerry.