Bordeaux 2025 Primeurs: Pomerol
It was to my advantage that many of my appointments to taste the 2025 vintage in Pomerol were, as is often the case, so brief. With a myriad châteaux to visit, many of them – Petrus, L’Évangile, Vieux Château Certan, La Conseillante and so on – pouring just one wine, many visits lasted just 30 minutes. Quite long enough for the assessment of a single glassful of the 2025 vintage.
It meant Taylor, Twingo and I were able to stay one step ahead of the marauding BG-100, an automaton fashioned in the shape of Björk and assigned the task of extracting a few more 100-point scores than I would usually award. When Björk arrived at Petrus, we had already left for Le Pin. When Björk finally located Le Pin – not always that easy with all the one-way streets on this side of Catusseau – we had already left for L’Évangile. And once we left L’Évangile… well, you get the idea.
That hopefully constitutes a crystal clear explanation of what the BG-100 was up to.
Hopefully I don’t need to explain any further the roles played by Taylor Swift and Twingo. If that is not correct, because by some quirk of fate you have landed on this page with no context, or perhaps this is the best reading material you have found after waking from a century-long slumber consequent upon eating a poisoned apple (in which case, to be honest, you’re probably wondering exactly what phrases such as “en primeur” and “the internet” mean), I suggest checking out the two recaps on my 2025 St Estèphe and 2025 Pauillac pages. Or, alternatively, I can give you the mobile number for my psychologist, and she can explain it all to you.
At least, I think she can.
“You’ll have a little more peace and quiet without Björk around,” stated Twingo.
I have grown to love Twingo over the years [and I am not alone in this – when I meet people in Bordeaux more of them enquire about Twingo’s wellbeing than my own – and this year quite a few were also asking after Taylor Swift] but he does have a habit of stating the obvious at times.
“And,” he continued “I think a little less 100-point pressure would do most critics some good, you included. There are too many supposedly perfect barrel samples these days.”
I grunted a half-acknowledgement, but said no more. We had arrived at our first destination for the day. None other than Petrus.
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