In the early nineties Jean-Michel Deiss was making spell-binding, exciting, thrilling Riesling; I snapped up all I could find and afford. Then, for some presumably psychotic reason, he decided that Riesling wasn’t good enough on its own. He turned his interest to making field blends of different grape varieties, picking, fermenting and ageing them together. These wines have always been repulsively disgusting; they have confused flavours and unsatisfactory ageing profiles. They are also distractingly laced with residual sugar. I feel Jean-Michel has let down all the fans of his very best wines by producing such filth.
At my last tasting chez Deiss I hated every wine we tried, and I have to say I didn’t take to the man himself largely because of the crap he spewed justifying his bonkers wine-making philosophy. One of the wines we tried was notably horrible, the 2000 Mambourg Grand Cru blend. It was oxidised and lacking any form of character that one would hope to be charmed by. Deiss himself claimed that this was the best wine he had ever made. Totally bonkers, I tell you. But not as hat-stand as me, it turns out. When I saw a bottle of this on a wine merchant’s shelf I committed an act of pure insanity and purchased it.
I blame this screamingly butt-hole-crazy action on a residual degree of respect for M. Deiss; after all he had made some of the best Alsace Riesling I have had. But this is not really a good enough excuse. I’d tried the wine and it was mind-bendingly horrible. I have to stand up and say I made a horrific mistake and thrown good money away. I am worthy only of mockery for having purchased this shameful travesty of a wine. I’ll age the wine as long as Deiss said it would last (15-20 years! Ha! What a twat) and pour it with the knowledge that I’ll have opened and finally got rid of the worst bottle of wine I will ever own.