Blind tasting isn’t guessing. It’s ruling things out. Colour first, then the nose, then what the wine does in your mouth. Each step closes a door, and you end up with a short list.

Reds give themselves away through colour, tannin and acidity. A pale red that still grips is Nebbiolo: the colour says light, the tannin and acidity say otherwise, and that mismatch is the tell. Pinot Noir is pale too, but softer, with red cherry and strawberry, and forest floor as it ages. Cabernet Franc smells of raspberry and pencil lead, sometimes something green and leafy, and sits fresher than its cousin Cabernet Sauvignon, which leans on blackcurrant and more tannin. Syrah is darker, with black pepper, olive and something smoky.

Chardonnay is the hard one, because it says very little by itself. What you taste is mostly the place and the cellar: citrus, apple and chalk where it’s cool, peach and melon where it’s warm, hazelnut and toast with time on lees or in oak. Two Chardonnays side by side tell you more about the people who made them than about the grape.

Add bubbles and there’s a third thing to read: time on lees, and the date of disgorgement. Put Gatta’s Blanc de Blancs next to a still Chardonnay from the Jura and ask yourself how much of what you taste is the grape.

Now the game. Have someone pour two glasses without telling you what’s in them. Decide the grape first, then the place. You’ll get it wrong, and it’s still the fastest way to learn what a grape tastes like.