Evening all,
The afternoon’s bevvie really totally failed to light my fire. It was a bit on the pricey side too. I realise none of us like flavour (ho ho ho) but this just has so little of it is caused both a rant to my guests and nearly tears at the end of my allotted measure. Don’t, just don’t.
Riesling Moutere 2008, Neudorf
By freaking arse this has the most utterly repellent and loathsome nose I’ve ever encountered! I use the word ‘repellent’ advisedly as it positively reeks of purest flyspray. There is bugger all else there apart from insecticide - it is disgusting, seriously disgusting! I am going to leave my glass for a bit and go and rant to my guests about how people who abuse Riesling like this should have their toes cut off with rusty garden shears. OK, it is ten minutes later, I’ve calmed down somewhat, and I am amazed (and rather pleased) to report that the bug poison aspects have largely gone. I can just detect them under the surface desperate to leap out and massacre blowflies, but the main aroma is quite nice, although depressingly one-dimensional, lime fruit. Nicer, but dull as particularly prosaic dishwater. The palate is nice to drink. It has good enough acidity, reasonable sugar levels and some lime fruit. But it, too, is also definitely of the humdrum idiom. It is so simple you’ve almost got to wonder if the winemaker has added a bit of bleach to the fermentation tanks to strip out a bit of flavour - Riesling surely cannot be so banal? Indeed, if I owned a vineyard producing such utterly tedious Riesling I’d get an ampelographer to check I didn’t have some vastly inferior clone planted and a psychiatrist to check the winemaker didn’t have a pathological aversion to flavour. For sure, once the noisome fly spray aroma has gone you can drink this easily enough but you’ll be frighteningly bored and generally disenchanted by the end of your first glass. It is just so dreary. This definitely sub-interest, and I almost feel it would wear that epithet with pride.
Better wine follows, Fino Perdido, truly the greatest light, dry Sherry I have ever tried.
Cheers,
David.
PS. If anyone was following the ‘me being vastly ill’-thing and still has the vaguest of interest: it now seems I only have 10% of my pancreas left, but have somehow managed to avoid becoming diabetic. I think we can raise a glass of wine (the Sherry rather than the above) and ejaculate “Result!” on that news.
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