There are top-class Pomerol producers who would be jealous of this wine. It's long sheath of cigar-spiced tannins – buffed to a sheen but not so polished that they've lost their heartwood grain – is drenched with sumptuously ripe fruit.

So knee-bucklingly crimson it's like liquid rubies staked with kohl-black stilettos – Louboutin, eat your heart out. It's silky, fluent, softly pressed with dried oregano, sweet paprika and green peppercorns.

But more than anything else, it's a lavish flood of crimson fruit.

It's not too soon to drink it now (I dare you to resist), but it will also stay the test of time.