One morning in late April eight people sat down to a table in the upstairs dining room at Stokes Restaurant in downtown Monterey. Before each place stood a phalanx of wineglasses and a score sheet. Arthur von Wiesenberger, a distinguished-looking man with blue eyes and smooth manner, introduced himself and gave the panelists some pointers on what to look for over the next hour.
The taste might be sweet or bitter, the aftertaste refreshing or rank, he said. There might be swampiness, rotten-egg smell or a chemical odor. The panelists listened and watched as their glasses were filled.
The tasting began. The tasters held their glasses aloft to check clarity. They waved samples under their noses and sipped carefully to detect fugitive flavors. They scribbled notes. When their palates grew dull they nibbled on water crackers, which von Wiesenberger assured them would re-sharpen their senses. The room was quiet except for the clinking of glass.
The first local blind tasting of one of the world’s most important and undervalued resources, municipal tap water, was underway.
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