Comment: Try cheese before you buy it in France

When I first arrived in France more than 35 years ago now, I had not the faintest clue what all the cheeses were in supermarkets. 

Even leaving aside the actual counter, I did not even recognise the packaged cheeses. From time to time I bought a few, more or less at random. But often they were too strong and made the back of my mouth feel peculiar, so I ended up sticking with Boursin. 

Gradually, however, I discovered cheeses that I really liked, mainly at other people's houses, and began to wonder about tasting more cheeses. 

Read also: Interview: French cheesemonger on what it takes to become the best in the world

It was around then that I bumped into one of my neighbours in the supermarket, and asked for her advice. She was completely breezy about the subject. 

"Oh yes, some cheeses are horrible. Here, you have to taste. Come with me."

She started chatting to the assistant behind the cheese counter and we duly tasted several cheeses. The assistant did not mind at all. I was amazed, and thrilled to discover that Cantal is not that different from Cheddar. 

It was something of a minor breakthrough. But it opened my eyes to something else too. Even in a supermarket you are allowed to ask for a taster. You can taste almost everything on the deli counter, not just cheese, and you can also explain what you like or don't like. 

Needless to say it probably would not go down too well if you tasted dozens of different things and then left without buying anything, but you can taste two to three pâtés, for example, to choose the one you like. 

You can do the same in smaller shops specialising in sausages, organic spreads or wild honey. You can even do it at ice cream stands. If you have never tasted some of the weird flavours - lavender or tomato or strawberry with basil, for example – you can just ask for a taste. 

I love it. It means that for the price of an ice cream I get to taste at least four different flavours, if you count the one I finally buy un-tasted at the end.

Apart from the pleasure of finding out what things taste like, the process actually teaches you to pay more attention to what you are eating. Rather than just consuming an ice cream without giving the flavour much thought, tastings encourage you to really think about it. 

It was good preparation for starting to taste wine, as opposed to just knocking it back with ignorant enthusiasm. The first time I bowled up in Saint-Emilion to report on a festival, I got swept off to a wine tasting with a bunch of people who really knew their stuff. 

Read more: The magic of mayonnaise: Why a homemade emulsion always woos guests in France

I had to confess I was completely out of my depth, and they were very nice about it. They showed me how to look at the colour, the way it swirls in the glass, the smell of it. They told me to compare the different ways a single wine can taste in different parts of your mouth. I was fascinated. Until then I had no idea that different parts of the mouth are sensitive to different elements of flavour.

What an education. Beyond the basics, I still do not know anything much about wine or how it is made. I can never remember the names of wines or domains. The names of grapes tend to blur in my mind. But I have learned how to describe the kind of wine I prefer, and how to describe tastes in actual words. 

These days, I know what most cheeses taste like, and I am always happy to taste something new, which I think is a very French thing.