Honorary Submission

ashley hausman, Master of wine

What wine experience or wine made you want to become a Master of Wine, and why?  

It was 2007, and I was living out my Felicity fantasy of grad school in New York City. It was one of the braver moments of my life, moving to that pulsating metropolis having never laid eyes on her first. Knowing not even one person among the millions. I stayed at the YMCA in Greenpoint Brooklyn for a few weeks while feeling it out, relied on take-out, and often enjoyed it perched with my back against a tree in McGolrick park, as I had some humble cup of whatever to pair with it. My wine education started with whatever - often a $10 bottle of something European that looked interesting enough. I learned early on that Chianti at this price was a safer bet than, say, Bordeaux, and that Muscadet was an almost laughable value when paired with lemon-butter shrimp (I couldn’t afford scallops). But whatever was important, because I recognized even then that wine enhanced food as well as my life's moments. There was something to having that cup of whatever on a balmy late summer's evening, as I watched the community unfold. Whatever made me pause and take note. 

It wasn't until a couple of months later that I had finally found some friends who invited me to room with them in their apartment on Amsterdam, up near Columbia University and, more importantly, the Hungarian Pastry Shop two doors down. They had a closetless sitting room they could convert to a bedroom for me. They were fans of two buck Chuck, and I still preferred my rotating $10 European nightly special. We decided one night to have a wine tasting party wherein we would all bring a bottle and explain why. This was hardly sophisticated and quite rapidly descended into near debauchery. I, however, was intrigued by a guy there who seemed well-composed and focused on whatever in his glass. It turns out he worked at Sherry-Lehman at the time. I asked him what he had in there. So, he poured me some. It was a 1991 Lopez de Heredia Vina Tondonia Blanco Reserva. Having come from a lot of whatever and never intentionally trying a wine with a lot of age, this one had me spellbound. I was almost emotional.

Wine can do this? 

I sat there as he told me the story of Lopez de Heredia, of Rioja, of traditional winemaking. Every question was met with an answer. Every answer inspired more questions. And there it was - the unbound nature of wine study. A discipline that necessarily changes with each vintage… a living thing that constantly evolves over time in the bottle. It almost perfectly balances science with art, theory with practice. As a field of study, it is not one that can ever actually be mastered, but it invites you to try and to revel in the process of understanding it more completely. 

A few days later, I got a job across Central Park in the upper east side at K&D Wine and Spirits. I needed to know more, and I wanted to feel that intimate high once more when you really connect with a wine itself. Something that I was realizing can't be done through osmosis and mere consumption, rather by taking each one on a long date and getting to know it better. Where it's from, the soil in which it grew, the how it was raised, and whether its parents were conservative or liberal. I humbly stared back when I had that first interview and bombed nearly every question, but I knew I would learn if they just said yes. Thankfully, they did. 

As I began to pursue certifications with the CMS and WSET, I learned more about the Master of Wine. What was never explained to me then but I know now is that it was a degree founded upon the pursuit of knowledge - the pursuit, specifically. The living, breathing, imperfect pursuit to understand the world in some way. It is an ongoing discussion - people who believe in the pursuit of knowledge rarely want to end the conversation; it gives birth to more curiosity. It depends on us to always do the best we can to find and speak the truth. It's being humble enough to know one can be wrong. Getting to the truth involves multiple perspectives and honest dialogue with everyone in the industry - from warehouse workers and cork producers to the growers and the cellar artists. 

I will never forget that feeling of walking into my first stage seminar in 2014. I was more caught up in evaluating if I deserved to be there, forgetting about the real purpose behind an imperfect journey. To take wine education to the next level – to mature, so to speak – there is a necessary process of needing to grapple with more ambiguous concepts, terms, and ideas that permeate the wine industry. Deconstructing precise language and concrete facts in order to get to the space between – the messiness - is imperative to grow (always been a sucker for Derrida). 

As I let some of my insecurities go, I was finally able to fully embrace the pursuit and not necessarily the mastery. It has led me to appreciate the unknowing and keep it all in perspective – something that had I known before I began may have actually been my purpose for wanting to achieve this title. The becoming is reason enough.  

And so, each day, even as a 'master' of wine, I continue to try and live those lessons, ask the questions, and embrace the pursuit.