In search of a mature red characterized by phenomenal richness and incredible longevity, I strode through the door, startled by an ocean, not of red, but of rosé. Every single sales consultant in a pale shirt, clashing loudly with the red color scheme of the store. At the customer service desk was a huddle of three managers, all apink. It was too much to digest! In order to continue on my quest, I was obliged to don my sunglasses.
I wondered at the mass paling of the usual uniforms: they’re a bright cherry, with a notable black pepper finish. Where had they gone? Did someone mismanage the laundry? Could they be attempting to “reclaim the rosé?” I have heard that there is a campaign afoot to rescue the poor blush wine, “derided by winemakers, p***ed on by wine judges, revered by the public.” And at last, it donned on me: October.
I summoned the courage to approach the ever-helpful Brandon, who once congratulated me on my choice of an economical shiraz for mulling, and I asked whether he might like some customer input. We had a friendly exchange; I explained that I did not want him to be offended, but that some of us who have experienced breast cancer find the staining of October troubling. “I know it’s for a good reason, and I know you’ll continue, but the store has no way of knowing some of us have misgivings unless we tell you.” He was receptive and said he would pass on my comment. Then we compared notes on the stunning Gigondas. Bold, explosive, stunningly evocative garrigues flavors careen from the glass, blaring their stamp of origin like a neon sign. These are old-styled, powerful wines of enormous fruit amplitude and irresistible personality. Plus there is the longevity! All the more poignant in the face of rose-colored t-shirts.
Heartened by Brandon’s good will—and blushing, for I am shy—I sauntered in search of an intense, ruby rosso ready to be released—after all, life is short, or can be—and found one promising classic aromas of blackberry and raspberry, well integrated with notes of vanilla and tobacco. And more, the structure was guaranteed to be ample, very concentrated and harmonious, supported by a good acidity. How I would love to see acid and harmony support one another more often!
Making my way to exchange lucre for terroir, I mused to myself, “I sense just a hint of strawberries nestled amongst what could almost be virginal yeast development. I can almost smell the acid. This is following nicely into the very fresh and acid driven palate, again the odd nuance of musk stick and strawberry in amongst all that acidity, with just a tinge of greenness on the back palate.” I dug in my wallet for a few bills.
Looking around again, I saw that, indeed, the gentlemen (yes, they were all gentlemen, to a one) looked serene and tender in their rose-colored shirts. To my surprise, I started to wish they’d discard the usual red shirts and wear these all year—or least bring them back for Gentle Men’s Month?
Will the rosé’s subtle finish be persistent? Or will it perish?
Only time will tell.