The hills are alive.

Something interesting happened in France in 2011. Actually I'm sure a tons of interesting stuff happened but this particular story revolves around Burgundy. The powers that be decided to change the rules surrounding the lowliest appellation in this venerable region. Out went Grand Ordinaire and all it's negative connotations and in came this.

Coteaux Bourguignons (Burgundy Hills, for the uninitiated) allows winemakers that rarest of all things in France. Freedom. A variety of blends of all colors are now available to Burgundian winemakers and I thought I'd try the offering from famed negociant, Louis Jadot. Chardonnay. Aligote. As soon as I saw these words on the label I decided to buy. This is precisely the kind of thing that the French Wine authorities were trying to achieve by implementing these new rules. Two grapes grown in the same region but rarely seen in a blend. This is as rare as hens teeth in Japan. I was uncommonly excited to taste this for the first time

What a load of old rubbish. Honestly, this is appalling. Words fail me. Not only badly made (a wine with this flavor profile should have a higher degree of acid), but poorly conceived. It would have been easy for a firm of the scale and experience of Jadot to source enough of the right kind of grapes to make a half decent wine. Probably a half decent wine with a degree of interest. No, this is not even a half decent wine. I cannot recall the last time I (and you too, dear wine lover) had had my intelligence insulted in such a base and unimaginative way as it's been impugned by the existence of this tramp's urine. Fat Chardonnay on the nose. An angry fatness that screams "stay away" in an ever louder and more shrill tones until you do exactly that. The first sip bores, then gives you indigestion. Short and hateful. I'm done with this wine. Reefer shipped and bought from a respected outlet. It's not just a bad bottle. I'm going to the convenience store to buy a can of Coke to dull the agony.