Homeplace by John Lingan

Author:John Lingan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

“You know what we call that in the industry?” asked Arthur von Wiesenberger, gesturing to the window and the heavy snow falling just outside. “Future inventory.”

It was 1 p.m. on Saturday, and my fellow judges and I had assembled for our training. Most of us were media of one kind or another: the publisher of the Observer; the director and host of EmeraldPlanet TV, a nonprofit environmentally focused production company; a news director and on-air host for WHAG, the NBC affiliate serving the four-state area out of Hagerstown, Maryland. The last would be piping in live from the dais that night, the tasting’s first-ever live-on-air television coverage.

“You’ll be sitting over there,” said von Wiesenberger, gesturing to two linen-covered tables under stage lights at the far end of the room, 5 yards away. “The pourers will come by and give you each water in the right numbered glass. Hold the glass up, take a look for any impurities, anything floating. Now bring the glass to your nose and take a deep breath—what do you smell? Maybe it’s chlorine, or plastic. Then take a sip, and keep the water in your mouth. How does it feel on the tongue? Is it harsh or soft? Fresh or bland? As you swallow it, is it refreshing, or does it have a lingering residue?”

In all we’d be tasting sixty-seven waters throughout the day, in four “flights”—Municipal, Purified Bottled, Spring, and Sparkling. We were to rate each water in five categories listed on a specially prepared document: Appearance, Aroma, Flavor, Mouthfeel, and Aftertaste, plus Overall Impressions. The pourers would collect our papers and hand them to the scorers, who would then average the numbers. In order to keep our senses clear, we’d been asked not to wear any heavy scents or lotions. von Wiesenberger, who would only be hosting, not tasting, looked like he never left the house without a penumbra of aftershave.

“We’re here today to determine what tastes good in water,” he ended his introduction. “Even though we have a lot of waters here every year, it’s amazing how frequently the scores line up. In general, the judges tend to like the same things, so it’s clear that some waters are better tasting than others.”

There was a cloth-lined wicker basket of water crackers on the table in between each judge. To our disbelief, von Wiesenberger explained that they were there in case we got thirsty. The constant flow of water, most of it heavily mineralized, could in fact wash away all our saliva over time, and the crackers were meant to help us gain a little of that spit back if needed.

We took a break as the hotel crew checked the microphones and stage lighting. The crowd was just beginning to grow beyond the small group of Friday symposium attendees. I met a young, tweed-jacketed financier named Ben who had been dispatched from Boston by his private equity firm, which had recently purchased Llanllyr Source, a Welsh springwater company that had previously placed at Berkeley Springs in the Bottled flight.

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