Pink wine from California is usually off-putting. Either it’s too sweet, as in a white zinfandel. Or the pink is too, well, red — as in too fruity and alcoholic, and lacking the earthy notes and refreshing acidity of a rosé with a good European pedigree.

But I was won over recently by a Sonoma County rosé from a relatively new winery in Carneros called Nicholson Ranch. More

I confess I love Wine Spectator magazine. I know it’s biased toward domestic wines. I realize its 100-point rating system (which it stole from Robert Parker) oversimplifies. And it really irks me that all the featured critics, every last one of them, is male. (I mean, come on guys, in a wine world populated by the likes of Patricia Gallagher and Jancis Robinson, you couldn’t find one regular woman columnist? We’re not even thrown an Adam’s rib bone of a token!)

Problem is, I just love a good list. And in Wine Spectator, every issue is filled with rundowns like “Germany’s Top Rieslings,” “2006’s Greatest Wine Values,” (read every word!), not to mention vintage charts, buying guides, the whole bit.

So when I spotted the cabernet recently anointed “Best of Napa” on the wine list at Morton’s the other day, I just had to get out my wallet. More

From the spit-not-swallow department: Some of you may have read the hilarious report in the New York Times yesterday about “wine tasters gone wild” in the Long Island wine region of New York state — complete with stories of limo-loads of bachelorettes dancing on table tops, inebriated haywagon riders running naked through the vines, and garden variety drunks demanding that tasting room pourers “fill ‘er up!” Apparently some Long Island wineries are disallowing party vans and limousines in an effort to cut down on this alarming trend. The Times reminds its readers that wine touring is about the wine, not the buzz, using the same tone as winery hosts who are having more and more to snort the self-righteous shibboleth at would-be guzzlers: “this is a tasting room, not a bar!”

But why doesn’t anyone point out that there’s one simple way to avoid being an Ugly American wine tourist: More

Dear Wine Girl:
Thank you for bringing that rosé wine as a housewarming gift. You told us not to save it, but to enjoy it young and fresh, so we did. We had a friend visiting who is an aficionado and he was really blown away. You told us it a special bottle and that it has a story … can you let us know more about it?
–Your neighbors Mark and Tony

Dear Good Neighbors:

I’m really glad you enjoyed the rosé (and that it got me points with your enthusiast friend!).

The wine was a Bandol from the south of France (Bandol is a fishing village on the coast between Marseilles and Cannes; behind it are some dramatic hills and vineyards comprising the appellation called Bandol.). It’s made by Domaine Tempier, a winery that was discovered and made semi-famous by the Berkeley importer Kermit Lynch. He was the first American importers to appreciate and promote the winery, the region, and the grape (mourvedre) they use to make their rosés and reds. As opposed to most “blush” wines which are generally sweet and made as an afterthought, the rosés from Bandol are dry, refreshing, and serious about themselves as a wine. Plus they’re great with most any food, especially BBQ or roast chicken, any kind of fish, charcuterie, olive tapenade, even watermelon by the pool.

Sometimes you’ll see Tempier’s Bandol rosé in good wine stores (I snagged the last one at Whole Foods yesterday on my way to a picnic!), but your safest bet, as Bay Area guys, is to go to Kermit Lynch’s shop in Berkeley on San Pablo Avenue. (Readers can order online.) My only complaint is that this particular wine has got pricey over the years. With my discount at Kermit Lynch, mine came to $25. Ideally I don’t like to spend more than $15 on a rosé. But Tempier’s, with its distinct blood orange and earthy notes, is worth the exception.