When I lived in Paris I enrolled in a wine course at Le Cordon Bleu to boost my (nonexistent) wine knowledge. I dreamed of confidently swirling glasses and dropping polished tasting notes at future wine gatherings. I even imagined someday running a vineyard like a movie couple. The plan sounded glamorous—until I saw the syllabus.
The program included a surprising amount of homework and weekly quizzes. Concerned that studying would cut into my prime wine-drinking time, 23-year-old me decided, “Non, merci!” and walked out after the first class. I’ve regretted that impulsive choice ever since. As I’ve gotten older and stayed in the food-and-drink world, wine feels increasingly intimidating. Colleagues casually discuss appellations, vintages, and terroir, and I find myself nodding along while wishing I had better vocabulary than, “This Chardonnay tastes like trees and butter…not great.”
