This summer's crazy rosé craze

WE WERE out of rosé. I squeezed red and white wine into a pichet from two bag-in-boxes until a rosé colour was achieved. The shame made me want to string the bags around my neck as a penance like the ancient mariner's albatross. My crime is matched by the grapefruit-flavoured disrespect heaped on rosé by Loire producers of Rosé-Pamp. In a risible attempt to give their flavoured wine a veneer of sophistication, marketers trace its origin to a Kir Vendômois (unknown to Google). The supermarket space dedicated to Rosé-Pamp has almost eclipsed the good news coming out of the Loire Valley: sales of Cabernet d’Anjou are up 10%. 

Full article first published in The Connexion (August, 2013)

Rosé is not a grape and it's not red and white wine mixed

UNTIL I overheard the following in the wine aisle of a well-known British retailer, famous for socks and underwear, I didn’t think much needed to be said about rosé:

Shopper: "What gives it this lovely pink colour?"

Wine sales advisor: "It’s the rosé grape."

Oh dear. Just as "yellow" is not a type of cheese, "rosé" is not a grape variety. Rosé wines are pink because the juice stays in contact with crushed red grape skins for a short period. Rosé cannot (in the EU) be made by blending red and white wines, though this is typical in the New World. There are rosés de soif (thirst-quenching aperitifs) and rosés de bouche (complex pinks that go with meals any time). The difference between ho-hum and memorable is about 3 Euros, so splash out.

Full article first published in The Connexion (July, 2011)