So we settled in and waited for the sweet, sweet nectar of the French gods. And after a few chocolate cupcakes, Carr's water crackers and manchego cheese croquettes our patience was rewarded as we flagged down one of the waiters carrying a double magnum of something red, smooth and tasty (the Chateau d'Armailhac, Grand Cru Classe Pauillac 1995). A great wine, splendid even. But not sublime. A few more snacks - trays of strawberries, pressed panini sandwiches and more chocolate cupcakes - and there it was with its playful sheep kicking up its heels on the label, almost like a carefree French schoolboy, a schoolboy who probably drinks this stuff from a thermos for lunch everyday - Chateau Mouton Rothschild Pauillac 1999, a bottle of wine that goes for upwards of $500. It's a glorious wine, fit for a glorious night, which it was. Standing out on 8th floor terrace of hotel we looked out on South Beach and toasted the festival.
Bring on the requisite wine necklaces, me so ready to get my sip on.