Cannes You Cure a Breakup?

To help you understand us a little better, allow me to take you back a few years.

As some of you may know, our love of wine predates our business, and I thought it might be worth sharing the story of one of our more formative dinners.

Daniel and I have enjoyed a long friendship and, as part of that, have frequently shared a bottle or two, occasionally accompanied by a cigar (mostly on terraces in Mayfair or St James's). However, on this particular occasion, I was lucky enough to be staying with Daniel in the South of France.

It was late spring 2023 and I'd recently experienced a rather turbulent and exhausting breakup, the sort of relationship ending that makes you think, "Gosh, I don't really want to do that again." Daniel, being the ever-attentive and hospitable friend that he is, thought I might recover best in Cannes during the Film Festival. Oh, how well he knows me.

Lo and behold, we whiled away a few days enjoying the festivities: protracted, rosé-filled lunches; dips in the pool or sea for revival; and the occasional fortuitous invitation from my brother to join him at parties, as he was attending the festival in his professional capacity.

The most memorable occasion, however, came on the final evening before I returned to London.

For context, it is now commonly accepted at Promised Cask that we occasionally acquire special bottles with one another in mind, setting them aside until an occasion presents itself. On this particular evening, we had two mature Left Bank Bordeaux waiting for us: the senior wine was the venerable 1996 Château Talbot, while its slightly younger companion was a 1998 Château Léoville Barton.

Both are Saint-Julien, but they showed rather different sides of it. The Talbot was beautifully evolved, with blackcurrant giving way to cedar, tobacco, leather and an earthy savouriness. The Léoville Barton felt a little more youthful and restrained, with cassis, graphite and cedar alongside a firmer structure and freshness.

Despite their differences, both were wonderful examples of why we love mature Bordeaux: the fruit was still there, but time had added layers of complexity that simply can't be hurried.

The wines passed the evening side by side and, following our repast, we worked our way through a couple of Romeo y Julieta cigars. I'm not entirely sure this was the medically recommended conclusion to several days of Cannes hospitality, but it seemed sensible at the time. It's safe to say I had a fairly persistent headache as I made my way through security at Gatwick the following day.

Looking back, evenings like this probably tell the story of Promised Cask better than we ever could in an 'About Us' section. Long before there was a business, there were two friends, a couple of good bottles and a habit of finding increasingly tenuous reasons to open them.

Some things haven't changed.

Thanks again, Daniel.