But, truth be told, I wasn't always on the Rose bandwagon. I might have even been tossing some rotten tomatoes at those who were standing proud on that wagon.
My boss talked a blue streak about Rose as if it were a beautiful woman he met in the South of France. I rolled my eyes and politely excused myself to the loo. I was proud of my prejudice against this inferior wine, a mere evil twin of White Zinfandel loaded with sugar, and I wasn't about to pocket my pride. Little did I know what I was missing.
My conversion wasn't overnight. However, within a matter of weeks our shelves were populated with Rose, from everywhere mind you. The choice was no longer mine. I was weary of protesting; I acquiesced. Plus, I felt compelled as a wine consultant to try this Mateus-like pinkish liquid, regardless of my disdain. My job is to sell wine. I just couldn't sneer at it all summer long, letting it linger there collecting dust. France, Spain, the US, even Argentina, of all places, were churning out Rose faster than you could say long form birth certificate. Yes, Argentina, and that is where my conversion occurred, not in Argentina itself , perhaps if I'm so fortunate someday, but at our very own tasting bar at the Corkscrew Wine Emporium.
One of our smiling, eager distributors (suspicion levels surge, keep your guard up) from Chicago whose portfolio is dedicated to small, niche producers and hidden gems, pulled out a bottle of Crios Malbec Rose from Argentina from his wine briefcase. "Here we go", I thought, like I was at the doctor getting a vaccine in a long syringe on my backside. Within seconds, I was grinning from ear to ear. My rose prejudice was slipping faster than Sarah Palin's poll numbers. Its garnet colour reminded my of a lollipop from my childhood; my colleague Veronica compared it to a jollyrancher. Sipping away, I was treated to sensations of ripe strawberry, cherry, fresh cut roses and mint. But, there was more. Surprisingly, it didn't dissipate on the first sip. Buoyed by its acidity, body and dry finish, this baby has legs. Jeez, was I ever wrong. I'm really going to have to suck it up. Crios and I have settled into a mutual agreement. I'm allowed to flirt with others roses, yet we still enjoy each other's company several times a month.
There isn't a lot of wiggle room in regard to holding on to older vintages of Rose. They are meant to be consumed young. Some vehemently disagree, contending that French Roses, especially ones from Tavel, which are energized with mounds of acidity will hold for several years. The good ones do, stubbornly maintaining themselves while taking on brickish hues with subtle notes of herbs, earth, flowers and late season fruit. I, however, hold firm in the fact that I like my Rose brand spanking new. Fresh out of fermentation, a few months of bottle age allowing it to settle into its new home and then into my home. So, as you would expect, sharing space next to the chicken salad and organic yogurt in my fridge are several roses, all from 2010.
All roses are pink, course, as their minimal exposure to their red skins dictate, but their styles swing vast and far. Yes, rose is decidedly dry. Some reveal more fruit than others, but its dryness distinguishes itself from its cloying imitators. Rose wines from Tavel, a rustic, romantic town in the South of France, home to a mere 1600 people, is dedicated solely to rose production, and others from Provence, are the driest of the dry with nary a sign of sweet in sight. The Laurent Miquel Rose from Provence is destined to be the sleeper hit of the Rose Season. Syrah and Cinsault-based, it is such an elegant and layered rose. Balance is key here, and it delivers equal amounts of pretty red fruit and acid couched in a smooth, whipped cream texture, simultaneously satisfying many admirers of rose. I would venture to say it is several dollars under priced. All the better for us, right?
So, yes ,rose is delectable, but can food and rose even be mentioned in the same breath? Sipping is certainly not frowned upon, but rose's food-pairing potential is not to be taken lightly. Ranging from summer salads, light pasta dishes to Paella rose can definitely be counted on for support. Purchase some fresh greens at your local farmers market and arrange a classic dish of fresh tomatoes, mozzarella and basil drizzled with 10-year-old aged balsamic. Anchored by healthy acidity, French roses are absolutely ideal for food-pairing. And in France, everybody drinks rose. There, and throughout Europe, controversy and condescension never visit rose's doorstep. Sitting down for dinner at a local cafe, rose is served immediately. Don't wanna piss of your French waiter who speaks fluent English, do you?
If you're keen on domestic roses, the Barnard Griffin from WA. State has held court for several years. While dry, the Griffins' fruit profile is more generous than its French counterparts. Near and dear to my palate for several vintages, it spills over with red fruit flavour in every corner of your mouth. Notions of ripe luscious spring strawberries, raspberries and holiday candy flesh out the flavour profile of this modestly priced marvel.
Lest you think rose is meant for the dog days of summer, some people adore their roses regardless if the temperature is surging past 90 or ice blanketing their windshields. My friend and Corkscrew compatriot, Jim wouldn't dare think of completing a purchase at the store without several bottles of the pink stuff in tow for his rose-loving wife, Linda, one of many mothers I can choose from on any given day, depending on my mood. The locks would be changed, and Jim would be sleeping in the car. End of story.
My bias against rose is now a thing of the past. If you are still ambivalent about Rose, just start tasting, you will come around, I did.
Something tells me, there just might be a follow-up article on rose in the not-too-distant future. After all, it's only early June, and there's weeks of rose revelry ahead of us.
Cheers
Michael
Great stuff! So glad you started a blog. These are the first wine columns I've read that are interesting, smart, accessible and funny. Looking forward to watching what you make of your blog.
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