It’s fall cleaning day and I just came across the menu for a dinner I attended last month. It was a food and wine pairing affair at Parcel 104 Restaurant in Santa Clara, an annual event that celebrates cheese and wine and the marriage of the two.

In years past, the focus was primarily on cheese, with cheesemakers seated at each table, anxious to spill stories of cheesemaking to all who would listen. But this year, the focus was on wine, specifically wines from Paso Robles, one of the fastest-growing wine regions in the state.

Unlike most wine dinners, this one was all about choice. Instead of pairing a dish with a single wine, master sommelier Randy Bertao chose to serve two wines with each course, allowing guests to taste, ponder and find their own way. We, in effect, were our own sommeliers.

Fun, you say? Well, yes and no. By chance, I happened to be seated with four heavy-hitting wine and food pros who literally taste and shout their opinions for a living. Now, I could have sat and tasted in silence. But that would have been no fun at all. Instead, I opted for conversation, which was, in retrospect, a bit like a live comedy show.

I would taste my smoked salmon quiche and have a sip of pinot noir, frown, then taste again, chasing it with a sip of chardonnay. Bite after bite, sip after sip, I would become more convinced that my preference was utterly correct. The master sommelier who sat across from me was, you might have guessed, not merely dismayed at my opinions — aka ignorance — but outwardly annoyed.

“This goes with that,” I would passionately proclaim. “That!??” he would protest. The one that sent him over the edge was when I stated that the Justin Vineyards tempranillo went much better with the heirloom tomato tartelette than it did with the Matos Dairy St. George Souffle.

“No!” he said emphatically. “Taste that!” he commanded. “Now taste the wine. Can’t you taste it?” I tasted on demand, and decided that the man clearly had no taste buds. Perhaps he was born without them.

More to the point, I just could not figure out what he was talking about. What I do know is that the souffle, made by chef Peter Maguire at Brigitte’s Restaurant in Santa Clara, was delicious. But the cheesy, buttery souffle did absolutely nothing for the tannin-rich tempranillo.

The lively — if a bit strained — repartee continued for three courses. That may not sound like a lot of courses, but keep in mind that at this particular dinner, each course included roughly three foods each, making for one gigantic meal, and lots of opportunity for disagreement.

Truthfully, by course three, a plate featuring stewed figs, pork medallions and endive sauteed with golden raisins, we all gave up on each other. We were too full to fight.

– Jolene Thym