Saint Émilion Grand Cru Review 2018: Close to Great but Not Quite Perfect

A Late Night Pour That Taught Me More Than Expected

There’s something about getting in after a gig, adrenaline still there, house quiet, and knowing tomorrow is going to be a proper Sunday roast. Liv had already set the tone without even saying it. Corn fed chicken, potatoes prepped, veg ready to go. It felt like the perfect excuse to open something a bit more serious.

I stood there for a minute debating it. Do I go white because it’s chicken, or red because of the gravy and everything else on the plate. In the end I went with instinct over rules and opened a Château Corbin Manuel Saint Émilion Grand Cru 2018.

After a couple of hours in the decanter this wine really started to show itself.

On the nose it was exactly what I’ve been chasing lately. Ripe dark fleshed plum, black fruit, that savoury umami note that gives it depth rather than just fruit for the sake of it. There was cedar in there, a soft spice, and even a hint of leather starting to creep through which always feels like a sign you’re dealing with something a bit more serious.

In the glass it followed through nicely. The fruit was there, the structure was there, and the tannins were mostly well behaved. There was a bit of grip on the finish which actually felt like it would be perfect with something like a ribeye.

At this point I was thinking I’d landed on something properly good.

The One Thing That Held It Back

As I spent more time with it, and especially when I had it with food, one thing kept coming back.

There was a slight herbal greenness sitting on the side of the tongue. Not aggressive, not unpleasant, but just enough to stop it being seamless.

It showed up as that subtle bell pepper edge on the finish. The kind of thing you don’t notice at first, but once you do, you can’t ignore it.

What’s interesting is it didn’t disappear with air, and it didn’t get smoothed out by the food either. It just stayed there, quietly reminding me that this wine wasn’t quite as polished as it first suggested.

Scoring It Honestly

This is where it got interesting for me.

Everything else about the wine pointed towards something pushing into the low 90s. The nose, the depth, the length, all there. But that slight lack of tannin integration just held it back.

For me it settled at an 88 or 89 point wine. Very good, enjoyable, and definitely something I’d happily drink again, but not quite hitting that complete, effortless feel that the best wines have.

What This Taught Me About My Palate

This was probably the more important part of the whole experience.

I realised I’m not chasing power or intensity for the sake of it. What I’m really looking for is that same flavour profile, but with total polish.

I love the ripe dark fruit, the cedar, the savoury depth, and that lingering finish. That’s the profile that excites me.

What I don’t want is anything that interrupts that flow. Any hint of greenness, whether it’s that bell pepper note or even things like eucalyptus in other regions, just pulls me out of the experience slightly.

It made me realise I’m drawn towards wines that feel complete. Wines where the tannins are fully resolved and everything just glides.

Where This Leaves Me

This wine was close. Really close.

It had everything I’m looking for in terms of flavour and structure, but just missed that final level of refinement.

And in a strange way, that’s more valuable than just opening a perfect bottle. It gives you direction.

It’s pointed me towards styles that keep that depth and savoury character, but lose that slight herbal edge. Whether that’s riper, more Merlot-driven Bordeaux, Super Tuscans, or even something like a well made Zinfandel, I feel like I’m getting closer to knowing exactly what my version of a great wine looks like.

Final Thought

Sometimes a wine doesn’t need to be perfect to be important.

This one didn’t just taste good, it clarified things. It showed me what I like, but more importantly, what I don’t.

And that’s probably the biggest step forward you can take.