Representing a portion of Grasberg that Deiss quarantined after its fruit “turned violet,” and vinified in a small foudre, his 2009 Riesling Vendange Tardive displays licorice and mint candy with a sticky sweetness to back up its impression of confection. There is an absinthe-like high-toned, sweetly-penetrating aura about this, and thankfully just enough sense of primary juiciness retained to ward-off an impression of cloying, though not to engender any sense of vivacity. It will probably keep for at least 20 years, but whether it will become more interesting I won’t try to speculate. Jean-Michel Deiss’s chance-taking, late-harvesting attitude made for a 2009 collection at times excessive as measured by one or another parameter, but no one can fault its wines for the lack of personality that afflicts so many others from that vintage. Deiss was at pains to assure me that his single-vineyard 2009s would be more expressive and harmonious by autumn of 2011 although I am skeptical that the sort of awkwardness some of these wines exhibited last November will dissipate, and unfortunately, press of time and wine renders it impossible for me to taste many of the most prestigious Alsace wines twice. Deiss’s belief that diverse cepages which grow together – under the influence of the parcel’s terroir and of one another – tend to ripen together, was certainly tested in both 2009 and 2008, but even someone skeptical of that claim – and we skeptics are surely in the majority – must admit that to the extent under- and over-ripe (or botrytis-inflected) aspects coexist in one and the same wine, this need not always manifest itself as disharmony but sometimes instead can generate welcome tension, a tension especially beneficial in the context of noticeable sweetness, and something like seems to have happened with the exciting 2008s at this address. Jean-Michel Deiss remarked – apropos the preponderance of residually sweet wines at his estate (like so many in Alsace) – that with his vineyard and cellar environment, if he really wants a wine to go to dryness, he needs to work with it in barrique, otherwise he would need in most years to employ cultured yeasts, something he eschews – as he puts it – “on moral, not just aesthetic grounds, because I am not about to serve the industry that produces them.” That said, the healthy fruit and happy yeasts of 2009 as well as the high acidity of 2008 conspired to render more of the wines from these collections dry-tasting than is usual chez Deiss. Incidentally, Deiss has begun printing “premier cru” on the labels of those from among his single-vineyard blends that are not from officially grand cru-rated sites. Perhaps he feels emboldened to challenge the authorities not only because a certain amount of contrariness is in his nature, but because he has been deputized to take the lead in organizing growers around deciding what will define and constitute in Alsace the “A.O.P., “I.G.P.,” and other newly EU-mandated wine categories. Mathieu Deiss, incidentally, is taking on an increasing role at his family’s estate, and was almost as eager to discuss the wines and vines on the occasion of my November visit as his notoriously eager and eloquent father. (For further information on Deiss’s philosophy, his sites and their cepages, consult my reports in issues 175 and 188.)Importer: Vintus, Pleasantville, NY; tel. (914) 769-3000