A man went to the famous Lucas Carton restaurant in Paris with his girlfriend and ordered the 1928 Mouton. The waiter returned with a bottle full of wine, and poured a small amount in the glass for tasting. The man picked up the glass, smelt the wine, and put it down on the table with a thud and said, “This is not the 1928 Mouton.” But the waiter assured him it was, and soon there were another twenty people surrounding the table including the chef and the manager trying to convince the man that the wine is the 1928 Mouton. Then someone asked him how he knew that it was not the 1928 Mouton. And he replied, “My name is Phillipe de Rothschild, and I make the wine.”
Finally, the original waiter stepped forward and admitted that he poured the Clerc Milon 1928, and said, “I could not bear to part with our last bottle of 1928 Mouton. You know Clerc Milon is in the same village as Mouton. You pick the grapes at the same time, the same cepage, you crush in the same way and put them into similar barrels. You bottle at the same time, you even use eggs from the same chickens to fine them. The wines are the same, except for a small matter of geographic location." And Rothschild beckoned the waiter forward, and whispers to him, “When you return home tonight, ask your girlfriend to remove her underwear. Put one finger in one opening, another finger in the other, pull out your fingers, then smell both fingers. You will then understand what difference a small distance in geographic location makes."
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