Piesporter Michelsberg Riesling 2009, Zimmermann Graeff

… is cloying, over-sugared, facile — with that kind of stagnant sweetness that leaves a residue of post-boiled-sweet-overdose gank in your mouth for about an hour afterwards

The label of this (unpleasant) bottle of Riesling, featuring some funkyish blue graphics

You know how German wines are unfairly shunned on account of a reputation for sickliness garnered by the years of Hock, Liebfraumilch and Blue Nun? You know how getting some people to try a glass of German Riesling is like persuading Fidel Castro to front a Gilette ad campaign?

Well, let a doubter taste this Piesporter Michelsberg and you’ll set back the cause a decade or two. Because it’s cloying, over-sugared, facile. That kind of stagnant sweetness that leaves a residue of post-boiled-sweet-overdose gank in your mouth for about an hour afterwards.

Okay, so it’s not an expensive Riesling. But, hey, I’ve drunk plenty of great Rieslings at this price. I hoped we’d left this kind of thing behind.

So leave off persuading your friends to pick up a bottle of Zimmermann Graeff’s Michelsberg. You’d be better off pitching Castro that ad idea of yours.

Rating ☆ (0 stars)
ABV 9.5%
Price £5.99 from Majestic Wine

Paxton Shiraz Rosé 2009 review

… is a spirited and jolly bid to make pink and green go together. And is sort of successful.

Closeup of the label of Paxton's Shiraz Rose

Yep, it’s a pinkie.

And this one really is pink. It’s deep and dark and vibrant. No pallid blush here; this is a full-on crimson. The difference, I guess, between the colour your face might turn if someone paid you a flirtatious compliment, and the colour your face might turn if you accidentally exclaimed the name of the female genitalia in a class of 13-year-olds.

So. It’s very pink. It’s also green — on the face of it at least — judging by Paxton’s membership of something called 1% For the Planet, and the fact that the wine is made biodynamically.

Which sounds good, even if you’re not really sure what it means.

Meanwhile, fittingly given its colour, it leans more toward the red side of things than the white. You’d not want to chill this’n more than a tad, or you’ll kill off its plump, rosy jollitude.

Because, yeah, it’s pink; it’s jolly. Just like every stereotypical rosy-cheeked wench of tiresomely unimaginative fantasy fiction. Nose-wise, it’s all raspberry and strawberry — almost disconcertingly so, if you’re wary of Kia Ora wine syndrome, like me. And in your mouth, it’s very bright and full.

What surprises is the amount of body (which is what makes it more reddish than many rosés). There’s a good welter of matt tannic action. It’s potentially a mite confusing, even, given the sweetness of the initial mouthburst.

Verdict

I’d very happily drink this wine without thinking too much about it. That sounds a bit of a back-handed compliment. I guess it is. But sometimes you don’t want to be challenged, right? Just ask President Mubarak.

I can imagine drinking it outside in the sun and having a fine old time of it.

But given its rosy-cheeked barwench simplicity, I’m not sure it’s wholly worth £11.99, though — unless you really, really like pink and green together.

Rating ??
ABV 11.5%
Price £11.99 from Oddbins