Wine, tasting and the art of mindful tasting
Finding words for what you taste. An exercise in language and attention.
In 2006 I organized a wine tasting for friends. I had just completed a sommelier course and wanted to show what I had learned. It turned out to be a disaster — in the best way.
Not because the wine was bad. But because I noticed that I was at a loss for words. “Fruity” everyone said. "Tasty." But what kind of fruit? What texture? What does the wine do in your mouth after swallowing — does it disappear or linger?
That's what wine tasting teaches you: finding language for experience. The sommelier calls it the finish — how long a taste resonates. A good wine has a long finish. A bad one disappears as if it was never there.
The parallel with writing is inevitable. There too you look for the right word for something that you feel but cannot yet name. A text with a long finish is a text that lingers after you have read it.
Since then I taste differently. Not just wine — everything. Coffee has a body, an acidity, an aftertaste. Cheese has texture, a salty top, an aftertaste that changes. Even bread — the difference between an industrial loaf and a sourdough is the difference between silence and a conversation.
Tasting attentively is not an elitist hobby. It's a skill. And like any skill, you have to practice it. Start tonight. Take a bite and wait three seconds before chewing. What do you really taste?