Without fail, anytime someone new finds out I'm a Certified Sommelier, they'll ask if I can do what has to be one of the world's most famous parlor tricks: blind tasting wines. More formally called "deductive tasting," the original goal of blind tasting was to ensure that sommeliers knew the intrinsic properties of specific wines and had a basic rubric by which to judge new wines in the marketplace. In my experience, it only comes in handy when you need to show up other sommeliers at a party. But still, folks love the showmanship of it, and, admittedly, I've trotted it out a few times when I've felt the need to impress.
How does one develop this skill? By combining years of practice (i.e., drinking) with the careful logic of a master detective. The first thing any blind taster has to learn is what grapes are testable. Out of the thousands of grapes in the world, the Court of Master Sommeliers only considers 20 of them important enough for the Certified exam and expands the list to 24 for their Advanced level test. This helps students narrow their focus while honing in on the grapes that are most likely to be encountered on the job. Stalwarts like merlot, chardonnay, and zinfandel make the cut. New kids like vignoles, müller thurgau, and schiava, not so much.
From there, each student needs to develop a relationship with each grape variety, learning its ins and outs and identifying signature tells for each one. Some are universal and easy, like knowing that rose and geranium notes signal either gewurztraminer or torrontes. Some are visual, like the way malbec often fades from dark purple to magenta as it nears the rim of the glass.
But more often than not, these tell-tale signs are random and only discovered after months of observation. For me, a faint whiff of Cool Ranch Doritos was a signifier for tempranillo from Spain, while a sharp, gripping tannin at the top of my front teeth would point me toward nebbiolo.
There would be clues to the wine's origin as well. Over time, as my own knowledge of these grapes grew, I would come to learn that yellow apples and cool fall breezes signaled pinot grigio, but it was the presence of a subtle sweetness (or lack thereof) that would tip me toward assigning the wine to France or Italy.
A chardonnay with notes of pineapple gummy bears was a hallmark of Napa Valley, while a wine that tasted of green apples and wet stones came from France. I'll be the first to admit that I'm not the best blind taster in Arkansas, but I can't deny how fun it can be to put your senses on the line and let the wine be your guide.
As always, you can see what I'm drinking on Instagram at @sethebarlow and send your wine questions and quibbles to sethebarlowwine@gmail.com