Susan Buckland: A cheeky little 'peenonwa'

COMMENT

In the company of connoisseurs at wine tastings I feel like an impostor. All that burying of noses in glasses and sucking mouthfuls of wine slowly through the teeth and then catapulting the remains into a bucket ...

These solemn rituals accompanied by earnest pronouncements of the wine's merits in an exclusive wine connoisseur lingua franca are mostly beyond me. And invariably remind me of James Thurber's classic cartoons.

The humorous American writer and depicter of human follies summed up his impression of wine connoisseurs in a cartoon of two men sitting at a restaurant table.

One holds his glass up to the light and impresses his companion with his confident analysis. Describing it as an amusing little wine, he adds that his companion will nonetheless be amazed by its presumption.

Being a person who tends to judge a wine for its taste rather than the sum of its parts, I took the opportunity to brush up on my wine knowledge in Adelaide.

Some of Australia's finest wine comes from vineyards on the fringes of the city. Not surprising then, that Adelaide has built a wine centre that shows off the nation's wines and helps you and me to understand the difference between good, bad and mediocre. The Wine Centre is a friendly place. The grape varieties listed in the display room are obligingly spelled out in phonetics so beginners don't stumble over foreign names and feel naff.

Pinot noir, for instance, is phonetically written as "Peenonwa". "Shenin blonk" for chenin blanc. And ruby cabernet gets a marsupial sounding "roobee karbenay".

Interactive displays draw you into the wine world. After pressing buttons, virtual winemakers like Wolf Blass and Peter Lehmann share their knowledge. And you feel encouraged to try making some virtual wine.

My own attempt was a somewhat deflating experience. I elected to make a riesling, a wine which I enjoy when crackling cool and crisp.

It was fun following instructions and pressing buttons - until the result was assessed by the virtual judge. "This wine is the perfect accompaniment to an appalling meal," the judge began. "It may find a niche as a cleansing agent for exterior surfaces. Please seek professional advice."

Yes, cheers and thanks a lot. There was a chance for redemption, though, in the sniffing room.

I held each glass to the light and then tilted it to see if the liquid running down from the rim had "legs", as they say in wine parlance.

Then I held the stem in the manner of the sommelier fraternity and spun the liquid into little whirlpools to throw off the "bouquet". I buried my nose to catch aromas of melons, peaches, citrus, berries, grass and herbs.

The "bouquet" of a good wine, I must say, is a most pleasurable entree to the taste. And something about my dismal riesling-making experience must have stuck because I managed to identify three out of four of the wines after sniffing them - admittedly until I felt as if my nostrils had absorbed an orchard.

The main restaurant at the Wine Centre is a pleasant place to retreat and have savvy stewards serve appropriate wines with the food.

The restaurant overlooks Adelaide's Botanic Gardens. And in summer you will have the added pleasure of the jacaranda trees reaching up from the garden outside and throwing forth their full and beautiful lilac blooms.

Downstairs in the architecturally impressive Wine Centre are shelves of wines to buy. Not a paint stripper among them. But there are bound to be some varieties with hints of amusement and surprising presumption.