The Blind Tasting

In the eleven years Sunniva had organised the Quillon Wine Circle's annual blind tasting, one tradition had been treated as sacred: the outsider. Each year the committee slipped a single cheap bottle in among the twelve grand ones, decanted and anonymous, so that the ten judges, serious people with sensitive noses and ample opinions, might be gently humbled. The outsider had never placed higher than ninth. This year, to the horror of the committee and the quiet delight of the waiters, it came first.

Selama sebelas tahun Sunniva menyelenggarakan uji cicip buta tahunan Klub Anggur Quillon, satu tradisi selalu dianggap keramat: si orang luar. Setiap tahun panitia menyelipkan satu botol murah di antara dua belas botol mewah, dituang ke dekanter dan tanpa nama, supaya kesepuluh juri, orang-orang serius dengan hidung peka dan opini berlimpah, dapat dibuat rendah hati dengan lembut. Si orang luar tak pernah menempati peringkat lebih tinggi dari kesembilan. Tahun ini, membuat panitia ngeri dan para pelayan diam-diam senang, ia justru juara pertama.

Sunniva announced the result herself, reading the scores from an envelope while her voice grew steadily smaller. The winning wine, number seven, had been bought that same morning at the supermarket on Fenner Road for roughly the price of a sandwich. Ursula, the senior judge, had once written eleven hundred words on the smell of a wet cellar floor. She had given this wine nineteen points out of twenty and called it "generous, with a quiet confidence." Several judges looked as though they were privately reconsidering their lives.

Sunniva sendiri yang mengumumkan hasilnya, membacakan skor dari sebuah amplop dengan suara yang kian lama kian kecil. Anggur pemenang, nomor tujuh, dibeli pagi itu juga di supermarket di Jalan Fenner dengan harga kira-kira sama dengan sebuah sandwich. Ursula, juri senior, pernah menulis sebelas ratus kata tentang aroma lantai ruang bawah tanah yang basah. Ia memberi anggur ini sembilan belas poin dari dua puluh dan menyebutnya "murah hati, dengan kepercayaan diri yang tenang." Beberapa juri tampak seperti sedang diam-diam memikirkan ulang hidup mereka.

Sunniva did not believe in miracles, and she believed even less in coincidence. Over the following days she treated the evening as a crime scene, if a rather damp one. Somebody must have switched the bottles; it was the only explanation that spared everyone's pride, hers included. She studied the photographs of the decanters, counting. She interviewed the caterer, who remembered nothing except that the cheese had run out. She even rang the merchant who supplied the real wines, asking in what she hoped was a casual voice whether any of his stock might have been mislabelled. He laughed for so long that she had to hold the phone away from her ear.

Sunniva tidak percaya pada keajaiban, dan lebih tidak percaya lagi pada kebetulan. Pada hari-hari berikutnya ia memperlakukan malam itu seperti tempat kejadian perkara, meski agak basah. Pasti ada yang menukar botolnya; itulah satu-satunya penjelasan yang menyelamatkan harga diri semua orang, termasuk dirinya. Ia mempelajari foto-foto dekanter sambil menghitung. Ia mewawancarai juru katering, yang tak ingat apa-apa selain bahwa kejunya habis. Ia bahkan menelepon pedagang yang memasok anggur-anggur asli, bertanya dengan suara yang ia harap terdengar santai apakah ada stoknya yang salah diberi label. Pedagang itu tertawa begitu lama sehingga Sunniva harus menjauhkan telepon dari telinganya.

What nagged at her most was a small, undignified detail. Before leaving that night, she had poured the last inch of number seven into a jam jar, out of what she now recognised as suspicion. She took the jar to the merchant, who sniffed it, sipped it, grimaced with great politeness, and confirmed that it was exactly what she had paid for. There had been no switch. There had never been one, and the only people left to suspect were the judges.

Yang paling mengganjal baginya adalah satu hal kecil yang memalukan. Sebelum pulang malam itu, ia menuangkan seinci terakhir anggur nomor tujuh ke dalam sebuah toples selai, karena sesuatu yang kini ia sadari sebagai kecurigaan. Ia membawa toples itu kepada si pedagang, yang mengendusnya, menyesapnya, meringis dengan sangat sopan, dan memastikan bahwa isinya persis seperti yang telah ia bayar. Tak ada penukaran. Tak pernah ada, dan satu-satunya orang yang tersisa untuk dicurigai adalah para juri.

She cornered Ursula at the end of the week, in the Circle's cloakroom, among the umbrellas.

Ia mencegat Ursula di akhir pekan, di ruang mantel Klub, di antara payung-payung.

"Did you think we were fools?" Ursula said, a little hurt. "We were asked to rank what we tasted, and that is what we did. It was the best wine on the table. Not until the label came out did any of us remember we weren't supposed to like it."

"Kaukira kami bodoh?" kata Ursula, agak tersinggung. "Kami diminta mengurutkan apa yang kami cicipi, dan itulah yang kami lakukan. Itu anggur terbaik di meja. Baru setelah labelnya dibuka, kami ingat bahwa kami tidak seharusnya menyukainya."

"It cost less than the cheese," Sunniva said.

"Harganya lebih murah daripada kejunya," kata Sunniva.

"Then the cheese was overpriced."

"Kalau begitu kejunya kemahalan."

Walking home, Sunniva turned that over. It was not the wine that had failed; it was the experiment. For eleven years the Circle had tested its judges for humility, and in the one year they were tested for honesty instead, they had passed with distinction. Had she known the joke would end this way, she would have chosen a different evening for it, or at least a better cheese.

Dalam perjalanan pulang, Sunniva memikirkannya. Bukan anggurnya yang gagal; melainkan percobaannya. Selama sebelas tahun Klub menguji kerendahan hati para jurinya, dan di satu-satunya tahun mereka diuji kejujurannya, mereka lulus dengan gemilang. Seandainya ia tahu lelucon itu akan berakhir begini, ia akan memilih malam lain untuknya, atau setidaknya keju yang lebih baik.

On Sunday she opened the second bottle she had bought, in case of spills, poured a glass, and drank it slowly, alone, in the manner of someone conducting research. Then she took out next year's agenda and, beside the word "Outsider," wrote in pencil: "Not from the supermarket."

Pada hari Minggu ia membuka botol kedua yang ia beli, untuk berjaga-jaga kalau ada yang tumpah, menuang segelas, dan meminumnya perlahan, sendirian, seperti orang yang sedang melakukan penelitian. Lalu ia mengeluarkan agenda tahun depan dan, di samping kata "Orang Luar," menulis dengan pensil: "Bukan dari supermarket."