The following "Guest Blog" comes from Sarah Shotwell, a talented Creative Writing Major who worked for Claiborne & Churchill as a part-time Tasting Room Attendant during the last two summers.
My name is Sarah, and I’ve worked behind the bar at
Claiborne and Churchill for the last two summers.
Last week, pouring Pinot Gris for some of
my favorite customers
In the tasting room, we pourers get asked a lot of questions. For example, someone might ask, "Is this Chardonnay 100% malolactic fermentation? Or perhaps What does 'Notes of Cassis' mean? Or Those temple rubbings on the wall--where do they come from? Or Why do you say your Pinot has an 'elegant finish'? What does 'elegance' taste like? And by the way, do you put orange juice in the Orange Muscat?
People expect a lot from a tasting room attendant; their questions reflect
an expectation of deep, comprehensive knowledge of all varietals, regions,
winemaking techniques, and grape farming. Many assume I’ve been through some
sort of certification program, or that I have a degree in wine and viticulture
from Cal Poly.
A picture I took during Crush in 2008 of Coby and Clay fiddling with the dealy-bop
I’m going to tell you a secret. Ready?
...I don't know anything about wine.
There. I said it. It seems that Clay and Fredericka have made a horrible
mistake!
About a year and a half ago, I was thrust into the tasting room with no experience, no knowledge, and the clumsiest hands in the industry. But it mattered not. For soon, unwittingly, I was caught up in the vortex of wine culture, never to return to my previous state. I, Sarah Shotwell, was employed in the Wine Industry. Soon my family and friends began to look at me differently. As if I were some sort of sage. As if I glowed with blurry alien light. It's been a year and a half since all of this started, and I'm still hoping for their vision to readjust.
Before I got a job here, if I went to dinner with my family I could order a diet coke and mind my own business. Now, when we go out with friends or neighbors, they hand me the wine list (horrors) and ask me to choose, and when the waiter brings a bottle of wine and inquires as to who would be the one to offer the approval or veto, they all turn to me in unison. "Her," they say, waggling their well-iced fingers in my direction, as I stare into my water glass, trying to make myself invisible. "She works in a tasting room." The waiter then feigns awe and pours me an ounce of something I am almost always going to like. I turn to the waiter and say, "This is wonderful." He proceeds to pour a glass for my father, who takes one whiff tells me it's corked.
At cocktail parties, they pluck Pinot out of the hands of the catering assistants and hand it to me to open, saying to their friends with raised eyebrows, She's a professional." but their reverent expectation soon degrades into horror as I fumble awkwardly with the cork, finally yanking it out half-broken with Pinot all down the front of my white summer dress. And as I stand in the corner with my head down, my aunt manhandling me with a sponge and copious amounts of Wine-Away, I shake my head and wonder what I am doing working at a winery. I'm sure all my customers are wondering the same thing.
(picture of my customers looking confused)
Despite all this, Clay and Fredericka have allowed me to stay, and even hired me back for a second summer. Somehow, I've gotten by. Admittedly, it is often through fraudulent behavior--nodding my head profusely when you ask if the Pinot Gris is 100% stainless steel, (it's not, I recently found out), or telling you that Cassis is a Middle Eastern spice (apparently it means black currant--my co-worker told my last week), or telling you that the reason they call it Orange Muscat is because the grapes are orange-colored. (I just looked it up on Wikipedia. Apparently they are Green. Who knew?)
I'm sorry for giving you misinformation; I really do have the best of intentions.
I guess what I can say is that while I still don't know about wine, I have learned an awful lot about people. In fact, I'll bet I can guess the second you walk in the door whether or not you are going to pour out the Riesling and ask for something dryer, or if you like reds, or might be tempted by a sip of port. I know how to make you laugh with my arsenal of tasting room jokes, to pretend to drink out of the dump bucket, or say, when rinsing your glass with water, "This is our 2009 Blanc de Blanc--excellent vintage." I will toast your anniversary, color with your children at the kids' table, hear your stories of the glory days, laugh and cry with you (it's happend, I'm sensitive, ok?) and hopefully, help you find a wine you really, really love.
If you want someone to tell you what "notes of cassis" means, and get a straight answer, talk to my co-worker, Hilary. She's brilliant! She will tell you all about the petrol fumes of an aged Riesling, identify corked bottles with the tiniest sniff, and has such a clever method of polishing glasses. But if you don't mind chatting for an hour or so with a dunce who is smiling ear to ear with wine down the front of her shirt, come and see me. I really do my best to make your day. Even if I have to make up everything else.
Hilary and Me last Friday.
Clay and Fredericka would like to add that "our best employees are hired not on the basis of their specialized knowledge but on the basis of their good character and their intelligence. The former can be taught, but the latter qualities, which Sarah exemplifies in abundance, are innate.
