The first thing I did when the 2003 Quilceda Creek cabernet placed dead last in a blind tasting I attended Wednesday was think, shoot, I have a case of this wine in my cellar! I didn’t say it out loud; I’m no fool. I spent $110 per bottle on that wine on the recommendation of Robert Parker’s The Wine Advocate, which gave it 100 points. Every year I freak out when CQ’s offering arrives in the mail. I drop everything, send off my check, and recommend the winery as my “big find” to all my friends.

But here I was, one of the tasters who judged this allegedly perfect wine blind against seven other Washington state cabs and found it, well, imperfect. Plus, I discovered that some of the tasters in the group were accustomed to calling Quilceda Creek’s cabs, which have doubled in price since Mr. Parker took such a liking to them a few years ago, “tannin water.” See why I kept my big trap shut?

For how I ended up this creek without a paddle, click here for more:

Coincidentally, I recently finished The Judgement of Paris, a not particularly well-executed but still interesting book on the infamous 1976 blind tasting in Paris, where six California wines bested their French counterparts. And sure enough, on Wednesday I felt the pain of the French judges whose prejudices were betrayed by their own tastebuds. Not knowing I was in the presence of royalty, I described the Quilceda Creek run as follows: “Dark purple, but peaty-smelling. Off? Wet cardboard, thank goodness, blew off after a bit. Blackberry and currant flavors, almost figgy, a little hot on the palate. Medium to full bodied. An okay finish, long, but some bitterness. Is this wine corked?” I rated it fifth.

Also coincidentally, I opened a 1999 vintage for some visitors two weekends ago. My guests were a well-traveled group who produce (not to mention attend) events like 15-vintage Sassicaia tastings, hosted by the winemakers. I’d made a big thing out of this “world-class cab, a real sleeper because it’s from a not very prestigious address.” But the Quilceda Creek went over like a wet log. Again, peaty aromas, barnyard notes, lots of wood, none of the rich, fruity pure flavors I remembered from the first few vintages I collected. My guests were kind, but I was apoplectic.

Well, as they say, twice burned. I am very loyal and patient about my wine, so I’ll probably order again. But I may supplement with one of the favorites of the evening’s tasting. And I’m happy to say that our faves, although less known, were delish and generally much less expensive than the CQ. Mine was J. Bookwalter’s 2003 Columbia Valley Cabernet Sauvignon, $40. (I loved its rich, powerful, fruit-forward attack, plus some smoked meat flavors that emerged over time.) The group’s second favorite I also loved for its dark color, spectacular nose — “wow, deep, dark aromas, currants, slight ripe plum, new leather, cedar, chocolate,” I wrote — full-bodied feel on the palate, and good, long, soft finish. All that in a Pirouette Winery 2003 Columbia Valley Red Wine, for $57.