Don’t confuse quality rosé with “grandma wine.” Credit: wikimedia commons

Don’t confuse quality rosé with “grandma wine.” Credit: wikimedia commons


I don’t know about you, but this winter I felt particularly lucky to be living in Florida. As a former Yankee with friends all up and down the East Coast from DC to Boston, it was hard to stifle my glee as I followed my friends’ frigid tales of horror on social media. And with our temperatures now spilling into the 90s, it’s hard to remember that for much of America, Memorial Day marks the beginning of summer.

I always remember one friend saying “gin and tonic is the taste of summer.” And I had to laugh when another friend posted this week that he’d had his first G&T of the season, when I’ve been drinking them for months.

Even for wine drinkers, however, there is a seasonal shift. Most folks move from drinking heavier red wines to colder, lighter whites. It makes sense when you’re looking for a drink that refreshes on a hot day. And while I still prefer a nice red Zinfandel from Paso Robles with a burger from the grill, I look upon this seasonal shift as an opportunity to drink more rosé.

It’s a wonderful wine for this time of year and is often forgotten because there are really no “great” wines in this category — you know, those high-priced cult wines that bring you to your knees. Instead, be transported to Provence along the French Riviera for a refreshing dry wine that might be served in a seaside café.

On a hot day when the food and wine are less formal, a rosé can really be your ticket to great pleasure. It’s made from red wine grapes and gets its color from brief skin contact. Most folks don’t know that upon first crush, red wine juice is clear. The deep garnet colors that we have grown to love come from extended exposure to grape skins. When you interrupt that process and limit the exposure to hours rather than weeks, the result is a pretty color that ranges from just a tint to a deeper pink. Rosé has the body of a red wine, but because it’s served chilled, it’s refreshing.

And please don’t confuse real rosé with insipid sweet blush wines like white Zinfandel, which I call “grandma wine.” If that’s your drink, I encourage you to slowly broaden your palate. I know many sophisticated wine enthusiasts who were once in your camp.

So try some dry Côtes de Provence rosé or a rosado from Spain. Or, in keeping with my “build your wine cellar from Costco” in this past February’s CL Drinking Issue, try the Sofia rosé from Francis Ford Copploa, named after his talented daughter. At around $12, you can’t miss. It displays strawberries and lavender on the nose with ripe cherry, raspberry and citrus on the palate.

Most rosé is delicate but crisp. It’s a great match for charcuterie, grilled fish, shrimp or pork. Stay away from cream sauces or raw oysters, but otherwise, as Julia Child schools us, “Rosé can be served with anything.”

Jon Palmer Claridge—Tampa Bay's longest running, and perhaps last anonymous, food critic—has spent his life following two enduring passions, theatre and fine dining. He trained as a theatre professional...