At the third annual Pebble Beach Food & Wine Event last week, there were so many "must-try" wines to taste in three days that, in deference to time and palate, a plan of attack was needed.

Attending as a guest sommelier, my "job," as it was for each of the other 74 guest sommeliers, was to polish thousands of glasses and butler the hundreds of wines presented at 20 wine seminars, eight cooking demos, three grand tastings and six lunches. The payoff was the privilege to taste the wines.

Most of the events were held at the Inn at Spanish Bay, the ocean-fronted golf property of the Pebble Beach Resorts. The opening night reception featured 100 of the world's foremost wineries pouring wines alongside lavish culinary treats served from a dozen of the country's top celebrity chefs, including Jacques Pepin, Charles Phan of Slanted Door, and Robert Del Grande of his eponymous restaurant in Houston. To organize the event, the guest sommeliers were split into groups to stage wine at designated stations throughout the Inn.

As we carted the wine off the refrigerated truck, I noted that two dozen wineries were afforded ocean views in the Inn at Spanish Bay's Peppoli Restaurant, as were another dozen wineries in the Inn's Roys Restaurant. Cases of Krug and Grand Dame Champagne Veuve Clicquot were iced down in the lavish bar. Another four dozen wineries were set up in the Inn's ballroom with elaborate lighting and drapery. My setup team, who had the inn's lobby to stage, felt the dozen Washington wineries were given the lesser real estate as we squeezed them into a few small serving stations on the patio outside the lobby bar.

But as the wind died and the sun set in glorious fashion over the crashing waves of Monterey Bay, the lamb chops hit the barbie and the Washington wineries were suddenly sitting in position "A," where most of the guests ended up at night's end.

The next two days, dressed in suits and ties at ungodly 7 a.m. staff meetings featuring lots of espresso, the guest sommeliers were set loose in groups of five to stage the wine seminars. Each group was responsible for setting up and pouring at two seminars a day. After hundreds of glasses were detailed and the wine poured in exact amounts (16 pours to a bottle), we were free to taste the wines by sitting in the back of the seminar room. But many of us preferred to taste at the more casual workstations in the back of the house — a narrow hallway between banquet rooms that proved much more conducive for networking with colleagues.

With so many great wines and so little time, my focus was on tasting a rare seven-vintage vertical of the iconic Domaine de la Romanée Conti Échezeaux and a horizontal of all of the Bordeaux First Growths from the legendary 1990 vintage.

Both the Chateau Latour and Chateau Lafite were indistinguishably perfect in their broad and rich opulence of black fruits, cedar and beautiful integration of oak. Still youthful and masculine, they were just beginning to hit their plateau of drinking pleasure with decades to spare.

The Mouton Rothschild, with a knockout nose of truffle, smoke and game, unfortunately played the role of the weakest of the bunch — a sad position given that on any other day at any other tasting it would be the centerpiece. The Chateau Margaux was stunning its feminine delicacy of red currants and profound perfume of violets and plush palate. It was hard to determine my favorite of the quintet, especially when the Margaux was compared to the compelling nose of the Haut Brion, a wine of haunting brilliance that was as much a joy to sniff as to sip.

Tasting the Domaine de la Domaine Romanée Conti wines from the Grand Cru Échezeaux vineyard had so many highlights it was difficult to determine which vintage best expressed the sensual and nuanced nature of the pinot noir grape. The fruit-forward, lush and ripe 2000 vintage was perhaps the most seamless and ready to drink. The 1990, in contrast, was backward, and stuffed with black fruits and a promise of a long future. The 1997 was pleasantly red-fruited with cherry and tobacco on the nose and a vegetal note that I liked while other tasters dismissed it as a negative for the vintage. The 2002, with a nose of raspberries and minerals, was nearly perfect. The 2005 was a wine with high pedigree showing concentrated, explosive and high-toned red fruits with a core of tannin that needs plenty of time to unwind. The 2006, in contrast, was sappy and juicy, relaxed and ready to drink like the 2000. Sadly, a bottle of the 1978 was corked and there was not enough to go around for the volunteers. Those who tasted it told me it was ethereal. If I was given a wine to cellar, it would be the 2005; a wine to drink today, the 2000.

At each day's end, winemakers, guest chefs and sommeliers alike ended up oceanside, sitting together in revelry, soaking up the California sunset while a man in a kilt played the bagpipe in the background.

Greg O'Byrne is executive director of the Santa Fe Wine & Chile Fiesta. His column appears in Taste on the third Wednesday of every month. Questions or comments? Write to vinevents@aol.com.