This was the Forrest Gump of wines—clearly defective, completely charmed.
Mike Steinberger tastes the '47 Cheval Blanc.
Sometimes I find wine writing really inaccessible. I'm 99% sure I'll never taste this wine (or anything comparable), and that alone could make this article feel braggy rather than informative. It's not, though, if only because it's obvious how totally psyched Steinberger was to write it.
He certainly is a lucky man.
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