If you haven't already given Rosé (or Rosato, or Rosado) a chance, it may be because you are understandably jaded, albeit scarred, from your White Zinfandel days. I know, YOU never actually drank White Zin, but maybe some of your "friends" did. Well, I drank it in my EARLY 20's and, embarrassingly enough, loved it. My college boyfriend, who read Hemingway and drank chic French table wine or Pernod, was a chef at night and his tolerance for my double bottle of the "pink stuff" was, I suppose testament to how much he liked me. It goes without saying that now, if I even smell White Zin, it turns my stomach. But, I have no regrets because it served an important purpose for me, for it was my "gateway" wine. The day, at age 24, that I walked into Chateau Maison Blanche near St. Émilion, I, and my palate, were changed forever. It was an experience I will never forget. If someone had poured me that same glass of Bordeaux at my apartment in Gainesville, it would certainly not have cast the spell on my taste buds, as it did in that rustic tasting room. It was a bewitching combination of elements. It was smelling the cavernous cellar on the tour, that earthy smell laced with fermented grapes. And the tour guide passionately talking about the 1990 vintage and finally, me tasting. I was forever changed at that moment. It taught me that so much of our taste is informed by our mood, our expectations, the light, the smells around us.
After that experience I banished my White Zin days from my memory! How could I have been so gauche?!? Later that same summer, I met a friend after class one day in Paris. Upon his recommendation, we drank a bottle of Tavel Rosé at a cafe at the base of some domed building that now escapes me in name. It was dusk and the air was balmy. The light was playing on the table and the wine was beautiful in that Prussian blue, late-day light. The Tavel was slightly sour and tart and had a dry, wet rock flavor lurking towards the end that somehow matched the light. I was transported.
And so I kept the "pink stuff" in my wine repertoire and have long enjoyed the beauty of Rosé, especially in Spring, when you get the gift of a warm afternoon. I have not, however, enjoyed the condescending glares I receive at restaurants when I have a glass of what my dining neighbors decide is certainly White Zin in front of me. Being from Alabama originally, as I am, I have really had my fun with this scenario. I can resurrect the back-woods version of my remaining southern lilt and successfully complete the horror of my judge-EEE-ass neighbors. So much fun. I love watching their sanctimonious smiles as they deem themselves superior, while drinking an overly-oaked Pinot Noir that frankly, makes me throw up in my mouth a little. I digress.
In case you don't know and are wondering, the color in wine all comes from the skins, so to make Rosé, they simply let the juice sit on the skins for a time until they get the pink color in the wine.
If you haven't already fallen in love, PLEASE try Rosé. there are Portuguese ones, and Spanish ones and French ones, OH MY! There are beautiful ones from the Anderson Valley, the list goes on. The Portuguese one shown in the photo on the left has a hint of fizz which makes it supremely refreshing. The wine on the right is a Spanish Bobol (pronounced BOW-bull) which is a Spanish grape I discovered a few summers ago at a wine tasting in Berkeley. After that tasting, I came home and my favorite wine guy at Trader Joes, Marty, had ordered a Bobol for under $10 and it was/is fantastic. I paired it with tangy goat cheese and berries. Heaven.
I will share my favorite memory of a glass o' pink and then I will relieve you of my loquacious ramblings to go buy some pink wine and make your own memories! When I was 18 weeks pregnant I found out I was having a girl. I was visiting my friends in Philadelphia and my friend Lizzie served, for a before-dinner toast, Rosé Champagne in tiny pink crystal glasses. Although I could only have a few sips, it was a perfect, lovely gesture and a beautiful moment I will cherish for always.
CHEERS!
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