First, the nose. When you crack the wax, draw the cork, it fills the room. A waft of old roses, but charged with a touch of citrus;
Its history is manifest at every step. The complexity of sensations stems from that history; distilled in 1947 in a small, ancient copper still, burning wood or charcoal, it’s rich in the imperfections that mark the exceptional from the simply fine Cognac.
Deep bronze, like fine old walnut furniture, but with a flash of gold, reflecting this still sprightly veteran’s many-faceted charm.
In the mouth, you will find great complication. First, rich old preserved fruits. Then a burst of flowers, breathing of spring. And finally, the bite of the ancient eau-de-vie – the ‘fire’ that belongs only to Cognac.
You will, of course, savour every drop. And should you leave the empty glass overnight, you will find lovely echoes when you nose the glass once more.