Drink - Victoria Moore avoids the pitfalls of the spitoon
Published 07 April 2003
To look like an expert wine taster, it is vital to avoid the pitfalls of the spitoon
Nice girls are not taught how to spit. We wince as televised Premiership matches show close-ups of 17-year-old footballers preparing a nugget of gob to hoick sideways on to the grass. Never mind the abuse even an amateur lip-reader can see they are hurling at the referee: how can they spit like that when their mothers might be watching?
And then, when you start wine tasting, you discover that no one swallows - not even a drop. They can't afford to, or they'd be legless by elevenses. Suddenly, you are expected to be able orally to eject a stream of liquid into a bucket with a bit of sawdust at the bottom. With aplomb. For those of us with no practice in the matter, this is a horrifying prospect. And red wine does make quite a mess if you get it wrong.
While attending a wine tasting in Argentina last week, I discovered that there is even more to spitting than I had previously realised. Among the wine trade, there is a sort of unspoken hierarchy, based on how casually professional your technique is. Mine was poor: I was clearly nervous and prone to dribble, which immediately identified me as an absolute amateur. I reckon, though, that I scored a few points for my businesslike deployment of the hair bobble before each tasting session. If that sounds odd, just you try swilling, sniffing and spitting with shoulder-length hair wafting around your face. On more than one occasion I praised myself for having packed that vital piece of elastic.
But I fell prey to almost all the other pitfalls of the spitoon. I giggled in cellars when we had been given barrel samples and I was required to spit raw red wine into a small pot carried by someone wearing a tantalisingly white shirt. And, when required to spit into a small spitoon, I would lift it extra close to my face so as to avoid missing, which on more than one occasion resulted in splashback hitting me in the eyes.
By contrast, my more experienced colleagues did not hesitate before aiming, from a standing position, at a bucket placed on the floor a couple of metres away. They had the Clint Eastwood hoick off pat, and it made them look as if they knew what they were talking about.
In case you are interested, I did gather a couple of technique pointers. The less saliva the better, as that's the cause of those melted mozzarella-like dribble strings. So rinse with water first and swallow, and don't keep the wine in your mouth too long. After that, the important thing is to drop the self-consciousness. I think I have. Possibly too successfully. I am going to a wedding tomorrow and I keep reminding myself that when I take my first sip of wine, I must not automatically spit it out across the flower beds.
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