
My blog post from Monday, " Thoughts About Minor League Bordeaux ," seems to have struck a nerve with many of you out there. You’re right. What bugged me about that lunch at my house was that I had held those 1989 Bordeaux for all those years – those particular bottles had been shipped from my cellar in London to Tuscany when I moved permanently there in 1998 – and they seemed to be slightly over-the-hill.
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