All around me the sounds of sip, gargle, multiple gargles, spit, are becoming increasingly acceptable. I’m here at the Writers’ Centre with tutor, John Newton, and 13 other tongues, to do food. “In all aspects” as the course contents detail. Over three Saturdays. A task of similar proportions to a degustation menu you might think. So I’m taking this course, bite by bite. Today we are focussing on turning flavour into words. And it’s not until my first sip of olive oil that I realise how unprepared my flavour brain is for this event. Thesaurus, where are you.
John helpfully assumes our virgin status with an oil tasting, for meta-learning, and provides some associative words for positive experiences. Words like fruitiness or “good level of pungency”. But is the fact that there are many more words for negative experiences, like muddy, earthy, winy, rough, greasy, a sign that this food is judged mostly from an absence of negative qualities?
With my first sip, I write down – grass, oily and sunshine; apparently relying more on colour, with a primitive realisation of smell. Confessing to another course participant that I rarely use olive oil, I realise that the part of my flavour brain processing olive oil is probably still in its infancy. Agricultural and grassy are two words I find for the second oil, whilst the third is very bitter and again grassy. Immediately afterwards, John provides feedback. Oil 1 is slightly fruity, grapey, with a bitter aftertaste. Oil 2 is lighter and Oil 3 has a burnt or smoky appeal. Apparently many of my co-sippers found all these qualities. Yes, they agree, nodding their heads like true gastronomes. I can only take another sip and watch my brain cells slide mysteriously into a micro-sleep.
I berate my consciousness for being so insensitive as we slip into honey tasting. But this time, no hints. Here again is a food I rarely meet on its own. Perhaps once every three months. While Honey 1, an insipid wheat colour, swirls around the cavern of my mouth, the only word I can think is “smooth”. It’s true. My flavour brain is still in a Kindergarten class with honey. Honey 2, the deepest colour of the three, reminds me of wood panelling in fairy-tale mansions while Honey 3 is timber and railway sleepers.
At lunch, I remark to John about my observations and he replies “when was the last time you ate a railway sleeper”. So, to turn flavour into words requires words of taste. I’m being trained to think: sweet, sour, bitter, salty, umami for a start. I’m starting to taste the bigger picture.
I will not discuss my exploits with the four chocolate samples other than to say
that, fortunately, the packaging of each provided invaluable insights or rather intastes. Certainly, I missed floral notes and an exceptionally long finish but I leave the course today with a rich after-taste and I’m sure no other Kindergarten word list looks like mine.
Written by Margo Ruckert
