why aren’t we taking rosé seriously?

8 min readMay 5, 2016

chiaretto, villa cordevigo, cavaion veronese | © katherine cole

As summer approaches, consumers are rushing out in droves to purchase dry pink wines.

Sales of premium rosés (priced at $12 and higher) have been skyrocketing in recent years. Depending on whose numbers you consult, the growth rate in this sector is somewhere between 25 and 50 percent, while overall, premium wine sales are growing by approximately 10 percent annually.

But while pop culture has embraced the trend — if you don’t know the term “brosé” by now, you will by the summer’s end — few wine critics take rosé seriously. Their assessments don’t tend to extend beyond a few descriptors, such as “lively,” “refreshing,” or “strawberry-scented,” and a score that often appears as though it has been pulled out of a hat.

In addition, few in the wine trade have taken the time to consider the factors that differentiate a good rosé from a great one.

While researching and writing the book Rosé All Day (Abrams, spring 2017), I observed that many wineries were phoning it in. That is, rosé vinification appeared to have been an afterthought, tertiary to red and white winemaking.

In addition, when I interviewed winemakers, many informed me that rosé vinification techniques were not a part of the curriculum at some leading oenology schools.

It’s a mistake to take rosé for granted.

After tasting hundreds of pink wines over the past year, I have identified common rosé pitfalls. And I have come to an understanding of what differentiates a good rosé from great one.

What, then, are the differences between a sub-par, a good, and a great pink wine? I keep the following criteria in mind as I taste rosés today. And I hope that, as rosé grows increasingly popular, winemakers will continue to elevate the conversation by exploring the boundaries of the genre.

signs of quality in a rosé

Acidity, fruit and alcohol are in balance

Acidity is what makes rosé refreshing and addictive. Fruit is expressed in fragrance and flavor. Alcohol should be present, but not overwhelming.

The majority of the fruit has been farmed and harvested specifically for rosé production

Farming for rosé can be a smart business move for vignerons who want to make the most of their sites. Cooler, shadier, higher-elevation or northerly-facing vineyard blocks that might not otherwise add value can be ideal for growing fresh, acid-driven fruit.

Saignée, if used, is just part of the recipe

I have found that winemakers in various parts of the world don’t always use this term to mean the same thing, but for my purposes, saignée is a process whereby juice is siphoned off from the red-winemaking process during maceration. The pale juice becomes rosé and the remaining skins and juice make a more concentrated red wine. Thus, the grapes were not farmed and picked specifically for rosé production.

The mouthfeel is textured, whether with spritz, silkiness or light tannin

I have attended many wine conferences in which the words “texture” and “mouthfeel” never come up. All wine professionals should be paying more attention to how a wine feels in addition to how it smells and tastes. And this is particularly true in the case of rosé, which doesn’t quite have the weight of red or the finesse of white.

The wine holds up to one year of cellar age, even if it is made in a “drink-now” style

The best producers’ 2014 rosés still taste fresh and lively today.

The packaging is alluring, because presentation plays a key role in rosé’s identity

Forget everything you have heard to the contrary: Branding is everything in wine sales. And branding reaches its zenith with rosé, the most attractive of wine styles. A phenomenal rosé in a dreadful package just won’t sell.

it may be a year too old, but it still looks good… | © katherine cole

some common rosé blunders

Alcohol overpowers fruit and acidity

Even wines marked as 12% alcohol by volume — that’s on the low-to-moderate end of the spectrum — can taste “hot” when the acidity and fruit are insufficient.

The pursuit of pale color and translucence has stripped flavor and identity from the wine

Social media has placed great pressure on us to present ourselves as camera-ready instagram superstars at all times. This obsession with perfection has taken hold in some winemaking circles, as well. Of course, there are delicious rosés that are quite pale and translucent. But some of my most pleasurable rosé-tasting experiences have been with savory, flavorful wines that are the color of sun-dried tomatoes and are murky with sediment.

Too much sulfur, added as a preservative, has imparted a foul odor

No one has the patience to let a “drink-now,” “serve chilled” wine sit open on the counter for three hours while the stink of sulfur diffuses.

Overripe fruit makes for raisined, pruney flavors

Again, the fruit should be farmed specifically for rosé production. That means harvesting on the early side, at a lower brix (sugar level) than one might aim for when making red wine.

Use of a cork results in TCA taint and/or oxidation

I want to cry when I open a bottle of pink wine and find that liquid has seeped through the cork or that the juice in my glass smells of wet cardboard. If any wine is a candidate for a screwcap, it’s rosé.

Use of commercial yeast makes for overly candied aromas and flavors

Too many rosés taste like watermelon Jolly Rancher candies. Enough already.

An overly expensive, heavy glass bottle is used — especially when the quality of the wine does not warrant such a splurge

Bulky bottles are all the rage in the luxury end of the rosé market right now. Yes, branding is important. But please don’t waste my money and the earth’s resources in packaging an otherwise-uninteresting wine.

rosé-making moves worthy of praise
(when warranted)

Lees aging and stirring, to naturally enhance texture

Getting back to the subject of mouthfeel, too many rosés are spritzy, light and immediately forgettable. Those that spend time luxuriating on the lees (spent yeast cells) have a creamier, silkier texture.

Fermentation and aging in vessels other than stainless-steel tanks, such as subtle oak barrels, cement tanks or amphorae

This is related to the previous point. The subtle oxygen exchange that happens in a neutral oak barrel can round out the texture of the wine and makes it more age-worthy.

Allowing malolactic fermentation to happen

Very, very few winemakers allow their rosé wines to naturally finish their secondary, or malolactic, fermentation. Most block the process. But ML (as we call it in the trade) needn’t necessarily turn a crisp, acid-driven rosé into a mushy marshmallow à la California Chardonnay, circa 1988. In my experience, ML can bring depth, nuance and smoothness to a wine that might otherwise be somewhat prickly.

Allowing spontaneous, natural-yeast fermentation to happen

See above re: Jolly Rancher candies.

Experimenting with whole-cluster fermentation

Most rosés are made from grape berries that have been separated from their stems. The spicy rhubarb notes and sinewy texture that can be imparted by a well-managed whole-cluster fermentation can make for a knockout rosé.

Attention to subtle design detail in packaging

A colorful, thoughtfully designed label is a start. But if your cork, screwcap and back label are equally well-executed, you’ve got my attention.

Front and back labels informing the consumer of the grape content, the vinification process, and the location of the vineyard site

Call me crazy, but I want to know where the grapes were grown, what they are, and, you know, other important stuff.

i love it… what is it? | © katherine cole

questions we should ask of rosé makers

How can you express typicity and terroir in your rosé?

If you can make a red or white wine that announces its grape variety and place of origin, you can make a pink wine that sends the same message to the taster.

Could you aim to make a pink wine that can withstand, at minimum, a couple of years of cellar age?

Think about acidity, pH, careful exposure to oxygen, the extraction of gentle tannins from skins and stems… and maybe even oak. Just maybe.

If your rosé veers significantly from the standard style, should your back label make note of this fact?

If you’ve made a wine that isn’t the same-old, same-old, I salute you. I love that you are experimenting with a “natural” style of winemaking. But consumers don’t necessarily know what a ramato is. So inform them about what they are getting into.