Original subtitles

I think one has more fun being a wine lover in England than in any other

country. And that's because London's where nearly all the great wine auctions

take place.

There's one almost every week of the year.

And for decades I have haunted these auctions and the tastings that go before

them. As a result, the old cellar below our house contains at this moment over 5

,000 bottles of wine.

Some of it is superb.

Most of it's pretty good.

We drink a bottle or two every night.

It doesn't seem to do us much damage.

Here's a wine story I wrote when I first became fascinated by the subject.

Because the first thing one must do is smell.

Smell?

I mean, of course, smell in the active sense.

To smell.

Only after one has smelt, so to speak, does one taste.

All right, then let's put you to the test again, and let me assure everyone

home that Richard Pratt has no idea what wines we've chosen for him.

All right, then.

Richard Pratt, where does this wine come from?

Oh.

Oh, this is a very good humor, fellow.

Let's see. German, of course.

Not far from Bad Kreuznach. That would account for the naughtiness.

1959, I think. Yes.

How's that?

Absolutely right.

Four out of four.

Don't rip it off.

Oh, well. Don't tell your son.

Of course, the word Cooper. I want to know when he finishes because he said

coming straight on after the program.

I don't know why we go to so much trouble when we're going to be bored by

that wine talk.

Your father likes him.

I can't bear the way he stares at me.

He looks at me as though I were one of his favorite clerics.

He's meant to be very good on clerics.

Who else did you say was coming?

The Blythe, Pete and Joanna.

They're American.

You'll like them.

He's a writer.

What's he write?

I've no idea, but he must do very well. He's got your father as a stockbroker,

and she always looks at hand.

Would you taste them, please, Mrs. Schofield? What is it, Mrs. Adams? It's

horseradish that I'm making, but I'm afraid it may be a little too strong.

You taste it, dear.

It is a little too strong.

And don't forget, Mrs. Adams, dear, the beef to go on the minute he arrives. Mr.

Pratt likes it very rare.

You'll get it rare, all right.

Louise, ask your father about the wines. I want to know what glasses to put out.

Where is he?

In his study.

Green filing cabinet.

No draft.

Sorry.

Mummy wants to know what glasses to put out.

Hock, claret, champagne.

Right.

And go quietly.

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

Oh, dear.

What?

Well, thank you very much, Mr Pratt. It's an amazing display. Really first

class. Not at all. You must excuse me if I rush, surely. Don't go without these,

though. Oh, thank you. I can't read a thing without them.

A very naughty fellow indeed.

Peter, I must say, Jeff, I'm absolutely fascinated. Oh, yes, yes, absolutely

fascinating. He has the most amazing sense of taste of any man I've ever met.

Do you always have a bet each time he comes to dinner? I'm afraid so. It's

getting rather expensive.

Oh, why?

What are we saying? Well, let me explain.

We only bet on the Claret. Oh, Mike, isn't that what we call Cabernet? Well

done, Joanna. Absolutely right.

Cabernet is the name of the vine.

Cabernet Sauvignon. Sauvignon?

The vine of the great Claret, Sir Bordeaux.

Honey? You never fail to surprise me.

Go on, Mike.

As I was saying, we only bet on the claret. I serve a wine, then challenge

to name the breed and the vintage, and he gives me a case of the wine in

question if he can't.

But he always can.

Yes, that's true. I've never beaten him.

But tonight, I really believe I have a wine that will absolutely baffle him.

Well, I'll drink to that. You don't sound like the kind of guy who's easily

baffled. Okay, gloat.

And it's not only wine he knows about. He's a gourmet, too.

Oh, yeah, I read about that somewhere.

He's the president of a society called the Epicures.

They get together once a month and stuff themselves in sumptuous dishes of rare

wines. Yes, I remember.

And that will be him. Louise, would you?

I'm afraid I must ask you not to smoke.

Pratt's most ridiculous about that sort of thing.

You don't want his taste buds damaged.

No, no, no.

Thank you.

Good evening.

Louise.

Aren't you coming in?

I'll lead the way. At one moment, this couldn't be more opportune. I did so

to work with you in private.

I have a little gift for you.

A gift?

How kind. Do open it. I want to know if you like it.

It's my latest, and I've inscribed it to you. Do look.

I mean it.

To Louise from her admirer.

Heartfelt words.

Thank you. I think we'd better go in. They'll be wondering what's happened to

us.

Cyril, dear, lovely as ever.

Hello, Mike.

Let me introduce the blood. Joanna and Peter, Richard Trapp. Forgive me for

being late. I've come straight from the television studio.

We saw you very impressed.

Not at all.

They gave me some extremely well -known wines to taste. These television people

are all idiots, you know.

I only do it because they do so insist on my appearing.

To think I couldn't name a Charbonnier.

I trust, Mike, you will have something a little more challenging for me this

evening. Tonight, Richard, I am going to win. Oh, good for you.

You bet, Mr. Pratt.

And you, sir, what do you do?

I write.

How interesting.

Under your own name?

Yes.

I myself have just published a new book. As a matter of fact, I presented a copy

to Louise.

How charming of you, Richard. What's it called?

Great Perth War Vintages.

River Pink.

I hope you'll all buy it.

Well, Mike, are you ready for me?

You mean we do the wine before the...

How do you wine taste with

soda?

Perhaps I ought to explain. You see...

Richard never has no pair of teeth. Good heavens, no.

But what I always do is retire briefly before dinner is served and gargle with

soda water.

You don't really gargle with soda. Soda water sponges out the palate, scours out

all the unwanted tastes.

In that way, I am ready to face the challenge of my host.

Excuse me.

Isn't he extraordinary?

Oh, yeah, he's, uh...

Extraordinary. The great thing about Moselle is it's the perfect wine to

before a claret. A lot of people serve a Rhine wine, but that's because they

don't know any better.

It's barbaric to serve a Rhine wine before a claret. But a Moselle, ah,

a Moselle is exactly right.

Charming little wine.

Don't you think so, Richard?

Oh,

dear.

Have I kept you all waiting? I am sorry.

Louise is such an interesting companion.

Oh, delicious.

I congratulate you, Sybil.

Absolutely perfect.

Fried in butter.

Very crisp.

A dash of lemon.

Very excellent.

So... Ah.

Moselle.

Milena Zolono 1971, I believe.

Exactly right.

So much better to serve a Moselle rather than a rind before the claris.

Precisely what I said. Exactly.

Now, this is a very courteous personage.

Slightly feminine.

Rich.

Rather like your daughters of the American Revolution.

Not quite as well off as they used to be.

Beautifully mannered lady.

Now for the claret.

Thank you, Mrs. Adams, dear. I must go and fetch the claret.

Oh, and actually, where is it? In my study, with the cork out breathing. But

is it in your study?

Well, being chambrayed, of course.

Pardon? Acquiring room temperature.

Yes, but why in your study?

Well, since Richard and I began these little contests, we've had to see the

conditions as near perfect as possible. So together, we explored the house to

find the best spot for the wine to breathe.

And we hit upon the top of the green filing cabinet in my study.

Draft -free, even temperature.

Do excuse me.

Half of the green filing.

There's nowhere else in the whole house. No, that is the perfect place.

Oh, you do take this contest seriously.

Indeed I do.

And tonight I'm taking it especially seriously.

Why?

I may want to raise the stakes.

To what?

What do you eat every night?

You'll never name this one, Richard.

You'll never get it, not in a hundred years.

It's a claret. Of course.

I assume then it's one of the smaller vineyards. Maybe it is, and then again,

maybe it isn't.

But it's a good year, one of the great years. Yes, that I can guarantee.

Then that shouldn't be too difficult.

And look, Richard, I won't force you to bet on this one. And why not? Because

it's a very difficult wine. But I was just saying to the others while you were

out of the room that tonight I felt like increasing the bet. No, that would be

silly, but if you want... to bet we'll have the usual, a case of the wine

itself.

You don't think I can name it, do you?

As a matter of fact, and with all due respect, I don't.

Oh, I like this. I like this more and more. Now, come on, Michael, let's

increase the bet. No, a case is plenty.

Would you like to bet 50 cases?

Oh, don't be ridiculous, Richard.

Do start, everyone. It'll get cold. Thank you. So,

you don't want to increase the bet?

As far as I'm concerned, I don't give a damn. I'll bet you anything you like.

Anything I like?

Shall we say 10 ,000 pounds?

That better not be my 20 ,000 bucks, Julian.

Well, certainly if that's what you want.

So, you would bet anything I like? Oh, that's what I said.

Mike, Mike... this nonsense and allow us to eat our food.

Sybil, I'm sorry you were thinking this is nonsense. We're just making a little

bet. Oh, I do love a good bet.

Now, let's see.

What shall we bet for tonight?

You'll never guess this one, Richard. I don't give a damn what the stakes are.

You're on.

I want you to bet.

The hand of your daughter in marriage.

Hey, that's not funny.

Sorry, Daddy, that's not funny at all. No, dear, they're only joking. I'm not

joking.

It's ridiculous.

But you said I could bet anything I liked.

I meant money. You didn't say money.

Well, that's what I meant. It's a pity you didn't say it, but of course, if you

want to go back on your word...

That's not a question of going back on my word, old man. It's a no bet, and

tell you why. You can't match the stake.

You don't have a daughter of your own to put up against mine if you lose.

And even if you had, I wouldn't want to marry her.

I'm pleased to hear that, dear. Yes, I thought you might be.

Very well, then.

I'll bet you anything you like.

My house, for example. How about my house?

Which one?

The country one.

Why not the town one as well?

Daddy, don't be absurd. It's too silly for words. I refuse to be betted on like

this. Quite right, dear.

Stop it at once, Mike. Do eat your food. You know, Louise, we ought to think

about this. Stop it, Daddy. I'm not listening. Louise, just... I've never

of anything so ridiculous in all my life. Just wait a moment and hear what I

have to say. I don't want to hear it. He's willing to bet two hundreds, and

point is this. He can't possibly win.

He seems to think he can.

Now listen to me, because I know what I'm talking about.

The expert, when tasting a current, as long as it's not one of the famous great

wines like the Peter Latour, can only get a certain way towards naming the

vineyard. He can, of course, tell you which Bordeaux district the wine comes

from, whether it's from Antimillion, Pomerol, Grave or Médoc, but then each

district has several communes, little counties, and each county has many...

Many small vineyards. It's impossible for a man to differentiate between them

just by taste and smell alone.

I don't mind telling you that the one I have here is a wine from a small

vineyard surrounded by many other small vineyards, and he'll never get it. It's

impossible. Are you sure?

Of course I'm sure.

Just think about it.

You'll be rich.

Two houses.

You can sell them. You'll be independent for the rest of your life.

Mike, stop it now.

Sybil, don't interfere. I'm the girl's father.

I wouldn't let you in on something you didn't want. Take the bed. I guarantee

you can't lose.

I don't like it.

You're being silly.

Come on, Joanna, what do you think?

Peter, should she or shouldn't she?

Could you just leave us out of this, please?

Yeah, I'll drink to that.

Come on. Girl, take it. I'm making you a fortune. We can't lose.

Daddy, supposing I do lose?

I'm your father, girl. I keep telling you, you cannot lose. I guarantee it.

All right, then. As long as you're sure.

That's my girl.

Good.

Fine.

It's a bet.

It's a bet.

Yes.

Very interesting little wine.

Gentle and gracious.

Almost feminine in the aftertaste.

Now we can begin to eliminate.

I must move cautiously.

There is much at stake.

First then,

From which district in Bordeaux does this wine come?

That's not too difficult.

It's far too light to be either Saint -Emilion or Grave. It's obviously a

There's no doubt about that.

Now, from which commune in Médoc does it come?

It's a very gentle wine, demure and bashful in the first taste, emerging

but quite graciously in the second.

A little arch, perhaps.

Something of a tease, taunting, with just a trace of tenon.

Then in the aftertaste, consoling and feminine.

A certain generosity that one associates only with the wines of the commune of

Saint -Julien.

Unmistakably, this is Saint -Julien.

I'm sorry, my dear, but I simply cannot have smoking at the table.

Now, let me see, where were we?

This wine is from Bordeaux, from the commune of Saint -Julien, from the

of Médoc.

So far, so good.

Now we come to the more difficult part.

The name of the vineyard itself.

I'm going to try to establish the growth.

If I can do that, it will be half the battle.

Now, let me see.

Well, this wine is obviously not from a first -growth vineyard, or even a

second. It is not a great wine.

The quality, the radiance, the je ne sais quoi, the power is lacking.

Third growth, perhaps.

I must be careful. I must be very careful here.

Yes. I'm right.

I'm sure of it.

It's the fourth growth.

Now, good. That's better.

Now we're closing in.

What are the fourth growth vineyards in the commune of Saint -Julien?

There it is again.

Tannin in the middle tastes a quicker, stringent squeeze upon the tongue.

Yes, now I have it.

This wine comes from one of the small vineyards around Bechevel.

I remember it. I know the district well.

The river, the small harbour with the... The wine ships can't get in anymore

because they're all silted up.

Yes, could this be a Bechvel itself?

No, I don't think so, not quite.

But somewhere very close.

Chateau Talbot.

Chateau Talbot. Now, could this be a Talbot?

Yes.

I believe.

I'm not happy.

I'm wrong. It's not a Talbot. I think this is a 1966, so it couldn't be a

Talbot.

Let me think.

It's not a Beschville.

And it's not a Talbot.

But it's so close to both of them, so close that the vineyard must be almost

between.

Somewhere to the south.

And the year is 1966.

Is that your final answer? Oh, yes.

It is.

Chateau Brunel de Creux, 1966.

It's a pretty little vineyard.

Lovely old chateau. I know it quite well. I can't think why I didn't

it. Oh, come on, Daddy. Let's have a peek. I want my two houses. Just a

Wait. Just a minute.

Michael, what's the matter? Keep out of this, will you, please?

He's guessed right, hasn't he?

Well, has he?

Now, don't worry.

There's nothing to worry about.

Richard, I think you and I had better slip off and have a little chat.

Oh, but I don't want a little chat.

All I want is to see the label on that bottle.

Now, come along, Michael. What are you waiting for?

I believe these are yours,

sir.

Perhaps they are. I don't know.

Oh, yes, they're yours, all right.

You left them in Mr.

Schofield's study, on top of the green filing cabinet, sir, when you happened

go in there by yourself before dinner.

You were carrying a soda can.