can catch some of the floral scents.”
She nods and sticks her nose back into her glass. “Honeysuckle?” she asks.
I smile at her. “Excellent. I’m also getting a touch of citrus. Anyone else?”
Several nods and “mm-hmms.”
“This is what we call a semi-dry wine,” I continue, “which means it’s on the sweeter side, but it’s not sugary at all. Go ahead and taste. Let me know what you think.”
“Light and crisp,” a taster says.
“Like an apple but not as sweet,” from another.
“Mmm. I love it. This is perfect for a summer evening,” from an auburn-haired woman.
“Yes,” I agree, even though we’re now in autumn. Maybe she’ll buy a case anyway.
A middle-aged man shakes his head. “I’m not a fan.”
“Oh?” I smile. “What don’t you like about it?”
“It’s too simple. I didn’t come here to taste ornamental wine. I want to taste the famous Steel Syrah.”
“I’m afraid we’re not tasting Syrah today, sir,” I say, “but I think you’ll love our Cab Franc. Unless you want to bring out the Syrah, Dale.”
Dale looks up from Blondie at the mention of his name. “Sorry. What?”
“This gentleman wants to try the Syrah,” I say, “but we’re not tasting it today. I think he’ll like the Cab Franc.”
“Not a big Cab Franc fan,” he says.
“You haven’t tried this Cab Franc,” Dale says, his tone not even slightly amused. “We’ll get to that one next.”
The man nods, seemingly satisfied.
“I love this,” Blondie gushes. “I’ll take three bottles.”
Dale smiles. “Don’t you want to try the other wines before you decide what to buy?”
“I can’t imagine I’ll like any of them as much as this.” She flutters her eyelashes.
I smile, self-satisfied. In Dale’s eyes, she just made a huge error.
“Would anyone like to try more of the apple?” I ask. “Otherwise, we’ll move on to the Cab Franc.”
“I’d like another taste,” Blondie says.
“Of course.” I approach her and pour another tasting portion.
“More please?” she says.
“This is a tasting, ma’am,” I say, well aware that I just called a woman who is likely younger than I am “ma’am.”
“Yes,” she says, “and I’d like another taste.”
Dale takes the bottle from me and pours her a couple ounces. “Of course.”
Did I do something wrong? I’ve done tastings before in class and in labs. We always pour no more than an ounce. But this is practice, not theory. Blondie likes the apple wine, which should not endear her to Dale. However, he gives her what she wants.
Dale hands the bottle back to me with a smile. I resist the urge to frown. This is stupid. I shouldn’t be getting sad because Dale is paying attention to a customer. That’s what we’re both supposed to be doing.
The customer is always right.
Those words were from the manager at the grocery store where I worked when I was in high school to help my mom pay bills. I’m not in a classroom here. I’m in a commercial setting, and part of my job is to sell this wine.
I just made a big mistake. I know better. And I know exactly why I did it—because Dale is paying attention to Blondie.
So immature. Nice job, Ashley.
“Take a bite of cheese, everyone.” I set down the bottle of apple wine and pick up an already opened bottle of Cab Franc. “Cheese is a great palate cleanser. Save the fruit for after the tasting.”
While the tasters munch on cheese, I pour tasting portions of the Cab Franc. Once all the jaws stop moving, I hold up the bottle.
“I’ll be honest with you. I know a lot about wine. I’ve studied it in depth, and I’m almost done with my PhD in oenology.”
“What’s oenology?”
Oddly, the question doesn’t come from Blondie. It comes from the auburn-haired woman.
“It’s not a word a lot of people are familiar with.” I smile. “It’s the study of wine.”
“You can study wine?” This time from Blondie.
“Yes. I have a master’s in oenology, and I’ve almost completed my doctorate.”
I glance at Dale. His jaw is still tense. Not surprising, since I know how he feels about my doctorate of wine.
“That’s fascinating,” the woman says. “I love wine and I always thought I knew a fair amount about it, but I had no idea there was actually a discipline related to wine.”
“A lot of people don’t know that,” I say.
“I’m too old to go back to college now,” she says. “I wish I’d known.”
“There are a ton of online courses you can take,” I tell her. “Some from the world’s most famous sommeliers.”
“Do you have an online course?”
I laugh.