John Livingstone-Learmonth: In opening this, we had to push the cork into the bottle—the cork was very fragile, but the wine was in good shape. It has a plum color; it is mature but not unsteady, since there are layers to its depth—indeed, it is wonderfully sustained. It possesses a curvaceous aroma; it is sprightly, shows cocoa beans, with clear quince fruit notions, but also an assured warmth and roundness inside the bouquet. As I continue with the wine, the bouquet truly becomes fantastic—it is so deep, intense; there are mysterious waters here, and airs of blackberry, tangly berry fruit, with a fine menthol presence, a little coffee, spice. A great mix of influences, and not yet overt even. The very early palate carries strong gras, a lot of it; it is sweet, and after 15 minutes open, it proceeds along a serene, red-cherry, fibrillating route. The tannins are very fine, and a small pocket of richness comes through on the finish, round as a Russian doll; a lovely shape to this. After one hour open, the richness is creamy—this is remarkable for 50 years of age, with a thrilling freshness as it moves toward the finish. The sweetness is ripe, it is extremely persistent, and has a silken Bordeaux length. I find it not Pinoté in any sense, as can come with many old Hermitage reds; its style is more like a fine St-Julien. After two hours, it moves into a minty, cocoa offering within a very pretty richness. The nose is now mature, opulent, and flirts with southern garrigue influences, then mineral and smoke; it varies but never recedes. The bouquet is a wine on its own. Lovely, rich finesse, and then the finish is succulent, like sucking a jujube—what pleasure all around. The heart of this wine is undoubtedly Le Méal—that is what has kept it going, with a lovely puffed-out chest, full of goodies. It will keep ticking over, no worries, but it deserves to be celebrated without other bigname wines around it, so its full prowess can be completely appreciated. To 2028–32?