My friend JC shared an interesting story with me the other day at dinner, about a friend of a friend. This friend, Mr. Whale, is a big time Bordeaux and Burgundy collector. Big time. Apparently, when he goes to dinners, he brings two bodyguards with him, whose sole purposes are to 1) carry his wine and 2) carry his stemware. Serious.
JC was invited to a dinner with Mr. Whale in Hong Kong. Eight wines were presented, all from the 1940's and 1950's. First Growth Bordeaux, and a Domaine de la Romanée-Conti. JC doesn't quite remember the exact wines, but there was a Latour, and a Mouton-Rothschild. As for the DRC, the exact vineyard eludes him. There were of course, Champagnes and other white Burgundies served, but the centrepiece of dinner was these eight legendary wines. Good taste in wine for the folks in Hong Kong starts and ends with the price tag. Is there any nice way to tell a millionaire that he has the palate of a fucking wet donkey?
Mr. Whale apparently fancies himself a playboy. The death of his wife probably contributed. Having a shitload of money helps too. He likes bringing models to his dinners. Showpieces all around. From what JC told me, these models should have taken wine etiquette classes before attending these things. Mr. Whale's kicked out more than a few pretty ladies for committing various wine tasting sins.
Shaking up the sediment in an old bottle of wine. Using perfume. Wearing too fragrant hand moisturizer.
I think Mr. Whale is my hero. Don't fuck around with wine. And you should never compromise and put up with shit when you're trying to conduct a serious wine event. There's no ass hot enough to have to tolerate that shit.
Now, all I need are two henchmen to carry my wine and stems. Anyone?
Blogger's note, September 26, 2009, 11:50am
Edited. Committed various typos and other egregious grammar errors. Blogging while buzzed.