Seven Practical Lessons from My First Wine Class

Bacchus Teaches Me the Virtue of Patience

I’m pushing my comfort zone. I went to a class.

R Five Wines in Downingtown, PA

Here’s what I learned.

Lesson One - Relax

R Five Wines 2023 Chenin Blanc

The class was at R Five Wines in Downingtown—about fifteen minutes from where I live.

Over the river and through the woods…

As I drove there, I was a bit nervous. I went to high school in Downingtown. And it turns out that I went to high school with the winemaker, but I don’t really remember him other than his name.

I started to worry. Should I remember him? Did we have a class together? Will I be considered rude if I don’t remember him? Would I be lame if I do? Why was I worried about this?

I told myself, Who cares? It’s been a billion years since high school?

Really, I was only worried because all of this is new and different.

After I comforted myself, a new host of worries surfaced:

Am I dressed right? Should I have worn a blazer? It seems like if you are into wine, you need a blazer. Maybe I need to buy dressier shoes. All I have are sneakers. I hope these big, gold earrings will make me look more grown up. Maybe it will be my “blazer.”

Will I taste anything? Smell anything?

Was it stupid for me to go alone?

What if I get drunk? Will I need a designated driver?

Blah.

I stepped into the tasting room, and immediately felt comfortable. It was sparse without being cold. The decor was rustic without being kitschy. I loved it. It was perfect. Both classy and accessible.

My view at the bar. Loved it.

Two women - the bartender and the co-owner, Kristie - welcomed all of the BarChat participants. And then, any of my remaining worries vanished. I didn’t see anyone from high school (wipes brow). All of the other participants were dressed just as I was: shorts, tee-shirts. I don’t recall any blazers.

Of course, I’d taste and smell. I already know it’s impossible for me not to.

It wasn’t stupid for me to go alone.

And if I got drunk, then I would just walk around Dtown. Maybe stop over at Kimberton and get those little chocolate treats I like.

Relax. It’s all good.

Really. Relax. It’s all good.

Lesson Two - Shut Up and Listen

R Five Wines 2023 St. Joe’s White Wine Blend

The class was structured and informative. I don’t know how much of those details I’ll get into, but I’ll say that we had little tasting cups filled with various aromatic and flavor experiences.

My little spot…before.

During the first wine, I tasted the lemon. Like, I really sucked on it and tasted it. And I realized that I haven’t stopped to just taste something in a long time. I’m always in a hurry. I understand the idea of a lemon, so why should I stop and spend time on it?

Because.

Life is better when you shut up and listen. Listen, observe, taste, sense, feel.

Even writing about listening overwhelms me with the kind of pleasure that makes everything worthwhile.

One of the flavor profiles for this St. Joe’s wine was honeysuckle. We didn’t have honeysuckle in class, but we didn’t need it. Honeysuckle is in bloom here in PA right now. I’ve been smelling it on every walk. And every time I do, I’m taken back to Houston, Texas, where I spent my childhood.

For a moment in class, I let myself go back to Houston—all along the back of our property were vines of honeysuckle and blackberries. The scent of honeysuckle takes me back there, to my backyard on Briar Bayou Drive, pulling apart bloom after bloom for just one little drop of honeysuckle nectar.

After the quick reminiscing, I put my finger in the honey, and let myself revel in it’s sweetness. Then I took a sip of wine. And another.

No. The wine didn’t taste like honey. That’s something I’m still learning. But, there was a hint of honey. A note.

A note isn’t a “tastes like.” It’s just a note. An essence. It’s like an idea or a memory or a thought.

And you won’t notice any notes if you don’t shut up and listen.

Lesson Three - No Way, Rosé

R Five Wines 2023 Grenache Gris

Technically, this isn’t a rosé. So, maybe I shouldn’t say that. Oh well.

After the first two white wines, Kristie poured each of us a sample of the Grenache Gris. Beautiful. Light, light red. It looked like a rosé, but it is actually a very light red.

I did the swirl. The smell. The sight. The sip.

Ehhhhh.

It’s not that the wine wasn’t good. I’m sure it was. But this particular wine wasn’t my thing.

This wine was both acidic and it tightened my throat.

The tannins + acidity just felt like too much for me. I drank some water, I ate a piece of cheddar. And washed it all down with a sip of the St. Joe’s blend. And then a sip of the Chenin Blanc. And then another sip of the St. Joe’s. (And another sip of the Chenin Blanc).

The man sitting next to me said, “Smart to keep those wines around, so you could compare.”

I took credit for being smart, rather than admitting that I was afraid to drink too much wine on a fairly empty stomach (and too stupid to have eaten beforehand!).

Lesson Four - ☺️

R Five Wines 2021 Grenache

I’m getting happier and more relaxed.

And the notes I was taking during the class got worse:

• Really smells good

• Freshness

• Alcohol

• Fingerprints

• Frity is prvcidus

Don’t ask me what they mean.

Lesson Five - Wine Gets Sloppy

R Five Wines 2021 Sheppard’s Syrah

By now, we tried several wines. My guess is, they poured around an ounce per sample? Not totally sure.

Mid-Class

This was a helpful activity for me. I won’t buy seven or eight wines (not now, anyway…maybe later). And I definitely wouldn’t open them all at once to go back and forth between the wines to taste them. I don’t have the money for it. And I don’t have any friends to share the wine with. My husband and I feel fairly sloshed after a 4 oz glass of wine!

I may have been the only person who didn’t finish all of my samples of wine as we went along. It seemed like the people around me had only one glass in front of them at a time.

I, on the other hand, still had all of my samples. Along with my tasting cups, my plate of food, and my water (which I had to drink more and more of to help my palate). My papers. And my pen. My reading glasses. My cell phone.

So, it goes without saying, I spilled some of this wine all over myself.

Whoopsie!

Lesson: wine gets a little sloppy! Now I know why it’s always red wine that is on the stain commercials.

Lesson Six - More Wine; More Brevity

R Five Wines 2021 Syrah

Here’s what I wrote:

Inky red wine.

I think I smell meat.

I liked this one.

There are other notes, but I can’t read the handwriting.

Lesson Seven - Patience

R Five Wines 2016 Syrah (Bonus!)

Kristie opened another bottle of wine. She didn’t tell us what it was. All we knew was that it was super ink-y red. She passed the cork. I love the smell of wine on a cork.

And then she poured each of us a small glass.

And it was fucking divine.

It was a dark, dark red, so I was ambivalent before I tasted it. I haven’t particularly liked the reds that I’ve had. I can’t say that I love tannins. I don’t love their tight, astringent feeling. I don’t know how to like that feeling, and I don’t know if I ever will. (Though I’m open to it).

So, when I saw another red wine, I wasn’t really sure I’d like it.

But I was there to try.

So, I sniffed: it smelled like a dark cherry/berry.

And then, I sipped.

The tannins were nowhere near as bracing as the other red wines I’ve had.

Kristie let us know that this wine was the Syrah, aged about 9 years or so. The tannins had mellowed. And oh my gosh! Suddenly aging made a lot more sense to me.

Immediately, I had a list of things I needed to do:

• Move into a place that I won’t move out of (for decades).

• Get a wine fridge. Better yet, a cellar.

• Buy three bottles of the R Five Wines 2023 Syrah. Buy three bottles of everything!

• Wait one year. Drink. Wait five years. Drink. Wait nine years.

• Drink!

Suddenly, patience and aging and even tannins made sense to me!

Can you imagine—purchasing a wine, and letting it sit in your closet, fridge, wherever. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. And then, when the time is right, opening it and drinking?

And being taken to wherever Bacchus resides?

Practiced in Patience

It turns out, I’m a pro at patience. Being patient, being long-suffering—that was a part of my life when I was Mormon.

I had learned to keep the commandments, the covenants, the promises, the laws, the ordinances—all of them—because I would be blessed. And, no I probably wouldn’t be blessed immediately. Part of the patience is that: waiting.

I trusted that Heavenly Father would bless me at some point. Maybe in this life. Maybe the next.

All I needed to do was suffer long and be patient.

And I did.

(Until I didn’t. Which is why I’m writing this now.)

People who leave high demand religions (like me) have some pretty unhealthy habits. They don’t know how to make boundaries. They are irrationally “patient.” So, when I left the religion, I have made efforts not to be so patient. I’m not talking about Karen-level impatience. I don’t tap my toe in the line at the supermarket.

But, when I read something or hear someone talk about patience, I kind of think fuck that! Then, I assume that they probably want my time or my money. Or maybe they want to make a promise that they can’t deliver on until the next life.

The truth is: neither the fully-patient nor the cynical outlooks are true or good (or healthy!).

I don’t want to be a saint. Nor do I want to be a Karen. So…where do I land?

The Patience of Bacchus

When I drank that 2016 Syrah, I got the answer to a question I didn’t know I had.

Patience is a virtue.

Bacchus rewards patience. Not in the next life, but in just a few years.

I only had that one sample, and it taught me more about patience than a lifetime of hymns, prayers, church attendance, and empty promises had.

Be patient. Have white wine in the meantime. Soon enough, the tannins will mellow. They will calm. They will balance. And you will drink something that feels like a small miracle.

(I have a suspicion this lesson applies to more than just wine.)

Thank you R Five Wines!

All in all, it was a great class. I can’t wait to go to another.