50 Shades of Pink

“I don’t like rosé.” Ever heard someone utter those four little words? I have. And every time someone tells me they don’t really care for rosé, I pause for a moment before responding so I don’t accidentally blurt out the first thought that pops into my head. Thoughts like, “Really? Isn’t that kind of like saying you don’t like cheese or music? I mean, have you sampled enough of a variety to categorically say you don’t like any of them?” Of course not.

Then I wonder, “Where is this anti-rosé sentiment coming from anyway?” Could it be the color? Maybe it reminds us of cotton candy - that sticky pink cloud of sugar kids eat at carnivals and fairs - which makes us think it must be sweet. Not true in most cases, but maybe we’re fooled by the color. Maybe it’s hard to take a pink wine seriously. Whatever the reason, summer seems like a good time to shine a spotlight on this misunderstood and underappreciated wine.

One thing’s for sure - rosé is anything but boring. Just think of all the grape varieties being used around the world to make the stuff. Most black grapes will do the job nicely. And even when the same blending grapes are used, the range of wines produced is remarkably broad due to factors like soil type, climate and winemaking technique. Take the classic Grenache, Syrah, Mourvèdre blend you might associate with southern France, for example. Depending on whether you’re drinking a rosé from the southern Rhône or one from nearby Provence, you’re getting a very different experience in terms of color, aromas and flavor profiles.  

What makes a rosé from Tavel, with its deep, ‘oeil de perdrix’ salmon color and bold stone fruit flavors, so different from a more delicately colored, lighter-bodied rosé from Côtes de Provence? Setting aside differences in geographical features and native grape varieties permitted in the blends, like Calitor and Tibouren, the main factor contributing to these distinct styles comes from two completely different winemaking techniques: direct press versus saignée (meaning ‘bled’).    

Although there are a few variations on these techniques, a working knowledge of these two major styles is sufficient for understanding the origins of the color and aromas of the rosé in your glass. The most important difference between rosé de presse (direct press) and rosé de saignée has to do with the amount of skin contact the juice sees prior to fermentation, anywhere from a few hours to a few days. Direct press is the traditional method used in Provence, the global standard for this style of rosé wine production. A direct press rosé is made using the same technique used to make a mainstream white wine, where the grapes are picked and pressed as soon as they arrive at the winery, minimizing skin contact and color extraction while maximizing aromas, freshness and acidity. The saignée method, by contrast, follows the process for red wine production. Once the grapes are crushed, they macerate on their skins for several hours to a few days before the juice is bled from the tank and fermented, producing more deeply colored, structured rosé wines. The remaining must is typically destined for red wine production. This is the principal vinification technique used for rosé production in southern Rhône, Languedoc and many other French wine regions, Spain, the United States, Italy, Australia and Chile, to name a few.

Simply put, and I know this may sound silly, but on the off chance that it may helpful to someone reading this, I like to think of direct press rosé as a would-be white wine made from black grapes that was allowed to get a little color before fermentation and saignée rosé as a would-be red that never was, having been drained from the vat before it could become a red wine.

Onion skin, barely blush, watermelon and everything in between... what’s your favorite shade of pink?

By Carla Gordillo @polyglotsomm