I poured the 2017 The Laird, set it aside and got about doing other jobs for 45 minutes or so, to give it some room to breathe. And it does breathe. It has its own pulse and beat and life, and it flexes and moves in the mouth. This is incredibly enveloping, with aromas reminiscent of campfire coals, charred eucalyptus, lamb fat, roasted beetroot, black tea and a prowling sort of countenance. In the mouth, the wine is bonded and cohesive and seamless, there are no gaps between anything, no space between fruit, oak and tannin; it all comes as one. While this is a singular wine, it is so big and concentrated that it needs no accompaniment other than some fresh air and a good mate. It's denser than osmium and is impenetrable at this stage.