‘Never say no to a rosé’ -- that’s my mantra this spring and summer. Much like Morgan Spurlock required himself to upsize his order (when asked) in Super Size Me, I’m going to drink only rosé when the option is available. Rosé wine is such an underrated category, it’s unfamiliar to so many people, myself included, but has such complexities and unique attributes which deserve to be discovered. This is the beginning of my rosé quest!
A couple of caveats:
Only the first glass must be rosé. If I have a second, it's allowed to be something else.
If the only rosé option is one I’ve had before, I’m free to have something else.
The bottle: Quail’s Gate Rosé 2012
The scene: Nothing crazy, just a Saturday night at home with the hubby
The food: Homemade pepperoni pizza
Let me just say, I started this adventure with an unexpected stellar bottle. I’ve had this particular one sitting on my wine rack for about three years. Why so long? I simply never felt I had the right occasion to open it. Which brings me to my first revelation: you don’t need a special occasion for rosé. The Quail’s Gate website says to drink this early while the flavours are crisp. I clearly failed at that - but I honestly don’t think any of the quality was lost. The first thing that struck me was its colour. It had a salmon-orangey hue (a sign that it had a few years under its belt) but it was dazzling and vibrant, not muddled or dusty. It was calling my name! I took a sip and fireworks exploded. There was fruit, fresh Okanagan strawberry flavours. There was zing and zap from one corner of my mouth to the other…but it wasn’t sour. It was mellow and fresh all at once. And it had an incredibly long finish.
There’s always this weird moment when I first take a sip of wine and my husband looks at me and waits for me to say something. I feel so much pressure to say something intelligent!! For this one, I simply took a bite of my pizza and said “It’s amazing!”
When I finished my glass, I looked up some info on the Quail’s Gate website and discovered that its made from 100 per cent Gamay Noir. My second revelation: why don’t we see more Gamay on store shelves? Either as a red or as a rosé. Nonetheless, it was brilliant! I then noticed that the 2012 is the only vintage made in the past five years that didn’t include another varietal. Ever since, it’s had Pinot Noir and Pinot Gris included. Perplexing. I can’t wait to visit the wine shop this summer and compare.
Stay tuned for the next chapter in my rosé quest. Cheers!
