PROVO -- Miss Manners probably wouldn't enjoy sitting down at a meal with Scott Frewing.
In most social circles, spitting out food served by the gracious hostess is an egregious faux pas.But for Frewing, and other members of Brigham Young University's dairy-product evaluation team, spewing half-chewed morsels is all a part of making sure New Year's Eve cheese dips are fresh for the new millennium.
"Spitting in our case is both acceptable and preferable," says Frewing, a food science major from LaGrande, Ore.
"Believe me," he said. "If you get ahold of some rancid cheese, the last thing you want to do is swallow it."
Threats of spitting aside, please don't hesitate to invite Frewing or the other seven members of the school's product evaluation team to your party to ring in 2000.
The team's coach, Lynn Ogden, chairman of the food science and nutrition department, says the students really do have fine manners.
Spitting, you see, is just part of the job.
"Well, it isn't as pleasant as eating a good meal," Ogden said. "They have to get it down in the throat for the flavor and the sensation, and then they spit it out and clean themselves up for the next product."
BYU team members, who are training to work in the food industry and to compete against other schools in food tasting, have honed their taste buds since last summer.
They were taught to identify defects in milk, butter, yogurt and ice cream.
What do they have to find? Seems that it wouldn't take a rocket scientist to spot some sour milk.
"It doesn't take a real acuity," Ogden said. "It just takes practice and a good teacher."
The evaluation process, which requires students to inspect, smell and taste products for defects in appearance and texture, is not as easy, or as pleasant, as it may sound at first blush.
For food tasters, life is not just a big bowl of ice cream.
"I've seen people get sick from consuming so much dairy. At competitions, it is four hours of eating dairy products," he said. "I've gotten pretty queasy from eating a whole block of cheese."
In most cases, though, defects are pretty discreet, and it takes a discerning taste bud to figure out what's wrong, he said.
Lance Williams, a BYU graduate of the food science program, is a former member of the team. He says the training he received in sensory evaluation helps him in his responsibilities as a vendor quality assurance manager with the Tillamook County Creamery in Oregon.
"We have an entire staff that focuses on sensory work. We pull samples of all our products to make sure the customer is going to be happy," he says.
There is another downside to being an expert food taster: Everything, it seems, needs to be judged.
For example, Williams can't enjoy a holiday buffet table without giving the cheese tray an inspection and a score.
"My wife always gets after me. She says, 'Can't you just eat and enjoy it?' "
Unlike some top food-tasting schools, dairy-product tasting is not taught in a class. Students who try out for the team, though, develop a marketable skill, Ogden said.
"Students put that on their resumes, and it really helps them," Ogden said, adding that few people know if Gouda is really good.
To prepare students for the rigors of sensory evaluation, a professor and a graduate student expose them to strong examples of faulty products.
Later, more discreet samples are handed out to see if students can detect the smallest flaws.
Team members meet two to three hours a week learning about various imperfections and how to score them for the competition, Ogden said.
BYU team members recently put their skills to the test at a national judging competition in Chicago.
At the competition, college students from across the country crowded along six tables, each table containing eight samples of a specific dairy product.
BYU's team earned ninth place in overall competition with a second-place finish in cheddar cheese testing.
There are about 20 defects that can be found. Common defects in products at the competition included an "eggy" taste to butter, a highly acidic "zip" to cheddar cheese and a "dirty" flavor to milk.
"Yeah, the milk tasted just like an old sock," Frewing said. "It was not the kind of milk you'd want to leave next to a plate of cookies for Santa.