Another one of those "highlights" of Capital of Culture year.
I don't mean those quote marks sarcastically - there really have been so many highlights in 2008 and it's only mid-May.
In fact, last night's concert at the Phil was the second stunning Capital of Culture event I'd attended in the same week, after the treat of Tartuffe on Tuesday.
Not forgetting the Sheppard-Worlock statue unveiling last Sunday.
Terfel was in fine, effortlessly glorious voice as you'd expect. But the Phil and Phil choir were his match at every step and they as much as Terfel deserved the standing ovation that came after three musical encores.
Mind you, not everyone in the audience was overjoyed he finished with You'll Never Walk Alone.....
The Phil was on fire, and certainly in the opening piece - Wagner's Prelude to Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg - I thought Vasily Petrenko was going to take off he was waving his arms around so much.
It all got very 'boysie' up there on stage between Mr P, sporting a new spiky haircut, and Mr T who is tall AND broad which meant when they stood next to each other he made the willowy conductor look like he was 12 years old.
There was so obviously a mutual admiration society going on, and at one point during the second half Terfel, who likes to act while he sings and also turn to watch the orchestra and choir, clambered on to Vasily's podium with him.
There followed much play acting of the "get off my land" variety, and apparently (I wasn't fully aware of this at the time), Mr Petrenko stepped on to Terfel's turf too by singing along!
Anyway, hopefully his good experience in Liverpool may see the Welsh bass-baritone want to return for another fixture....
He popped into the after-concert party downstairs at Rubato's for a brief chat with the likes of Culture Minister Andy Burnham and culture guru Phil Redmond, while what Bryn's mum really wanted was Vasily's autograph on her programme.
Then the family Terfel headed off to Mei Mei for a late-night Chinese meal before the singer went back to the Hard Days Night Hotel where I understand he and wife Lesley were staying.
The rest of us carried on the party until we were asked to leave by weary Rubato staff, at which point I decamped to the Hope Street Hotel's residents' lounge with a drinking partner-in-crime for "one for the road".
Tartuffe, Terfel, and a little tipple.
Roll on the next round of culture highlights.
