Whenever I bring this "little Bordeaux" out of the cellar, a discussion is inevitable, not heated, but definite. For once, there is no differentiation with my wife: "not a good wine". Period. Her otherwise well-placed statements are never that clear-cut. In the worst case it means: "I don't like this wine! I can well accept something like that, but a little less her categorical rejection, which this time ends in the epilogue: "sour and without fruit". I must have expected something similar, even if I thought I had been particularly clever this time. I gave no answer to her question, "what good did you bring from the cellar?" but proceeded directly to decant. A particularly beautiful decanter was henceforth its dress. I was convinced that I had outwitted her accumulated prejudices. Wrong! The comment - see above - came immediately and unmistakably.