Rosé Blooming in the Dark

“A rosé? I’ve never heard of that.”

Okay: we were in West Hollywood, rooftop-poolside at our hotel, so I admit I wasn’t swimming in a deep demographic pool of enophiles. I’d been shocked all weekend, in fact, at how un-wine-savvy the Los Angeles scene is. Even at the popular sushi spot Koi I felt like a big thirsty fish in a little pond stocked with cocktails and sake, but not much in the way of fruits of the vine. All I could devise to drink with my jalapeno hamachi was a California sparkler, one of only two offerings by the glass. Not a riesling or a gewürztraminer in sight.

But to overhear a waiter say that not only did he not have any rosé but he hadn’t any idea what it was — click here to find out what I wanted to do.

It took all the self-restraint I have not to stand up and shout, “It’s a WINE! And it would be perfect for this man who’s standing chest-deep in the water!”

Poor rosé. Already it must struggle to transcend the evil associations many of us still have with “pink” wines like white zinfandel or (going way back here) Lancers. That’s assuming we even know what it is. Here, I was witnessing a rosé trying to bloom in total obscurity.

I’ve said it before, but I will say it again: a real rosé–that is, a blush wine made from red grapes (usually grenache or pinot noir), fermented completely dry, and hailing ideally from France–is one of the wine world’s greatest, cheapest, and most refreshing joys. It’s not sweet, so it’s delicious with food and thirst-quenching in the heat of summer. And the best of it is not an afterthought: it’s made with the same care a winemaker puts into her whites and reds.

My recommendations? Any rosé from the south of France. Languedoc, Bandol, and Lirac are some areas that are known for exceptional rosés; wineries to look out for include Chateau La Roque, Domaine de l’Hortus, Gros ‘Noré, and Tempier. (Caveat emptor, though, in the case of the Domaine Tempier rosé. This year’s release of this benchmark, very distinctive rosé will set you back around $30, which twice what I think anyone should spend on a rosé.) Californian versions tend to be too full-bodied for my taste, but I won’t turn down a Vin Gris de Cigare from Bonny Doon or a Ramona Rosé from Nicholson Ranch. Finally, the Goats do Roam from South Africa is a lip-smacking steal for $9.