I know not all rosé is good rosé.
But when you find a good one...
The heavens will open and your purpose in life will be complete.
OK, that's a little dramatic. But the feeling is still pretty close.
Rosé has always felt like one of those wines that doesn't need much convincing. Sunshine helps. A table outside helps even more. Add something good to eat and suddenly opening a bottle at lunchtime seems not only reasonable, but necessary.
And when the rosé is really good, I am very happy indeed.
A Sonoma Rosé
One I remember particularly well was at Gundlach Bundschu in Sonoma, a winery I've visited a few times and one that already has a place in my wine memories.
The rosé was made entirely from Pinot Noir. Dry, light, subtly fruity and exactly the kind of rosé I like.
But Gundlach Bundschu is also one of those wineries where the stories surrounding the wine are almost as entertaining as drinking it.
The winery dates back to 1858, when Jacob Gundlach bought 400 acres in Sonoma and named the property Rhinefarm. He then returned to Europe, married his childhood sweetheart and spent their honeymoon travelling through Germany and France buying rootstock to plant back in California.
As one does on honeymoon.
More than a century later, Jim Bundschu apparently decided Sonoma wine needed a little publicity. In 1990, he and a group of masked and caped accomplices boarded the Napa Valley Wine Train and handed out glasses of Gundlach Bundschu Cabernet to the passengers.
A wine train robbery.
Honestly, this may be my favourite piece of winery marketing I've ever encountered.
It's a very old winery that doesn't seem particularly interested in behaving like one, which I rather like.
The Octopus Situation
Now, about food.
One of the classic pairings for Pulpo a la Gallega, octopus with olive oil and pimentón, is Albariño.
I get it.
I like it.
But sometimes I like wandering away from the expected.
For me, rosé and pimentón have this wonderful synergy. The smoky paprika, the octopus, the freshness of the wine and that little bit of fruit just work together.
When I'm choosing a rosé for it, I want something dry with subtle fruit. Nothing too sweet or heavy.
This is probably my absolute favourite rosé pairing.
And the only thing that can make it better?
Eating it while looking out over Madrid.
I have photographic evidence.
And Then Someone Put Bubbles in It
So what's even better than rosé?
Sparkling rosé.
I tried a Codorníu Napa Grand Reserve Rosé Brut at Artesa in Carneros, and this one had a particularly good sense of place.
Carneros sits at the southern end of Napa and Sonoma, close to San Pablo Bay. Its cooler conditions make it particularly suited to Pinot Noir and Chardonnay, two grapes very much at home in sparkling wine.
This one had red fruit, good acidity and that bright freshness I love.
Absolutely heaven.
There are few things that make a summer afternoon feel more celebratory than pink wine with bubbles in it.
Even when there is absolutely nothing to celebrate.
Actually, that's not true.
The sparkling rosé is the celebration.
Pink Wine Deserves a Little More Respect
Rosé can sometimes get treated as unserious wine. Something cold, pink and cheerful to drink beside a swimming pool without thinking too much about it.
And honestly, there is nothing wrong with that.
Wine is allowed to just be enjoyable.
But there is also plenty to explore. Different grapes. Different places. Different styles. Still or sparkling. Pale and delicate or deeper and more structured.
And, apparently, whether it works with octopus.
These are important questions.
So yes, the heavens may not actually open when you find a good bottle of rosé.
But give me a dry rosé, a plate of octopus with pimentón and a view over Madrid and I'm really not going to argue about the details.
It's summer. Drink more rosé.