By New York City Correspondent Sasha Smith I’d been waiting for last Tuesday’s class for a long, long time. Finally, I was going to learn to love Bordeaux. Of course I’ve always appreciated it and held it in high regard, and its primacy is self-evident; it’s tough to argue against the greatness of Bordeaux, the same way you can’t refute the fact that Citizen Kane is a cinematic masterpiece or Crime and Punishment is a darn good book. But just as Orson Welles and Dostoyevsky leave me cold, Bordeaux has never been a personal favorite. I was sure I was…