One of the great things about wine is that you can lose your virginity again and again. Not literally: in wine, no matter how much you drink or how many books you read, something will come along and make you feel like fresh-faced novice all over again.

So you might say that in the case of my first professionally-led blind tasting, I left a girl but I came home a woman. Not that it was a rowdy event: we guests, in fact, were instructed to bring our own glasses and avoid wearing perfume or chewing gum. We were advised further to shut the hell up while tasting and to consider using the spit bucket.

For the dirty details and a surprise holiday gift idea, click here for

If this doesn’t sound like your idea of bacchanalia, you’re not alone. Judging from all the stretch limos clogging the main arteries of Napa Valley, filled with liquored-up tasters in high heels, most people like to taste wine in informal, if scenic, circumstances. They like to taste with eyes wide open (knowing what wine it is, that is) and they like to swallow. This kind of tasting is about learning, of course, but it’s mostly about enjoying an outing with friends, shopping, and getting a little buzzed. Lord knows I do this all the time.

But although our host Gerald from Weimax Wines admits he thinks about his shop’s monthly tastings as “sport,” he worries that “some people expect a more ‘cocktail party’ atmosphere,” which is not what he provides. Instead, he likes to bring together folks with some seriousness (but no party-pooping pretensions), give them an unbiased setting in which to taste, judge, express their diverse and often well-put reactions, and then delight in the discovery of the true identity of the wines. In the case of last night’s tasting, because our theme was reserve-quality cabernet from some of the best known and priciest Napa estates, we took additional pleasure in stripping away some imperial new clothes.

Here’s how it works: four tables were set with placemats depicting an arc of eight circles, each labled with a letter A through H. We placed our glasses one to a circle and received a photocopy of a grid so we could organize our handwritten notes. Then Gerald passed around eight bottles (opened, brown-bagged, and labeled A through H) accompanied by a little cup inscribed, yes, A through H. We poured just enough from each bottle into the corresponding measuring cup and then into the corresponding glass.

Then we sat in silence, looking, sniffing, tasting, and writing. Some spat. After about a half an hour, Gerald collected our rankings (no ties, please) and did the math.

The best part came when we shared our notes. We started with the lowest-ranking, and spent about five minutes chiming in until Gerald pulled off the brown bag. Ooohs, ahs, and gasps rang out — especially with the super-premium Fisher Vineyards 2001 “Lamb Vineyard,” which, because tasters felt its sweet and sour elements were out of whack, placed second to last. (“We just saved you 125 bucks,” quipped our host.) With the scoring, the revelations, the disputes, and a big winner – Trefethen’s 2001 “HaLo,” at $68 — this last stage, I thought, must be the sport part. Rah rah!

I’m happy to report that I was not the only woman (one, in fact, of four among a total of sixteen). I also was not the only first-timer. (For at least seven of us, this was our first professionally-led blind tasting.) And in conclusion, I learned not only that premium California cabs these days are overpriced and sometimes even flawed, but also that tastings like this make great gifts: one group was celebrating a friend’s fortieth birthday (judging from the laughter was not his first), another was cashing in on last year’s Christmas present from mom. And if the wines could not be described as values, the tasting was: all told, for $35 I tasted $678 worth of wine. Because I may be a born-again virgin, but I’m no cheap date.

For a full report on the wines we tasted, visit Weimax Wines here