This rosé is made from a blend of varietals; Counoise, Cabernet Sauvingon, Tannat and Syrah--two of which I'm not at all familiar with. It's a little sweeter than I generally like, but this is Frosé season, so who am I kidding? Of course I'm drinking it. Although I might freeze some of it--just sayin'
This is house party wine. It's the wine you want if you're day drinking. There are a lot of floral notes on the nose--along with an intense sweet cherry scent. This is a very light bodied wine, the color is Millennial Pink. I mean, seriously; it is. It tastes like summer--strawberry and peach.
What interests me more than anything is the saignée method that was utilized in making it. Saignée means "to bleed. As I understand it, the juice from red grapes is collected right after the crush. They take this red wine juice and ferment it as if it were a white wine--resulting (supposedly) in a bolder rosé than some other methods.
In Que Será, Syrah I write a little bit about how rosé is made in the song, No Wines But Rosé.
No Wines but Rosé
(Sung to the tune of “No Day but Today”)
There’s no more red, there’s no more white,
We’ve drunk them all, should we call it a day?
No! Hold your glass, there’s still one flight.
No wines but Rosé!
I know you’ve heard (for I have too)
Reject, eject, white zinfandel is dreck!
But don’t discount La Méthode Saignée.
No wines but Rosé!
Might be too late to macerate,
To press, or bleed—but blend we may.
What do you say?
No time for Cabs, or Chardonnay,
We need cash now—c’mon, let’s seize the day!
No Chenin Blanc, no Viognier,
No wines but Rosé!
Que Será, Syrah
Pour Decisions: Book Three
They may be keeping secrets and telling lies, but a little white wine never hurt anyone.
Allegra
It’s not every day that you inherit one-third of a winery. I should be on top of the world, floating on Cloud Wine, as they say. Instead, don’t you just know it? I’m about to make one of the biggest mistakes of my life. And that’s saying something. My family has always viewed me as something of a screw-up, not always fairly. But in this case? They’re not only dead right about me messing things up; they don’t even know the half of it. Yet.
Complicating my quest to redeem myself, earn my sisters’ respect, and help them turn our winery into a straight fire success, is my low-key relationship with Sheriff’s Deputy Clay Romero. Sure, there are risks involved in sleeping with the enemy, but ‘what’s meant to be will find a way,’ right? And whether Clay believes it or not, I know we’re fated. With a capital F.
Clay
We’re Capital F somethin’ all right; but I don’t think it’s fate. Ever since Legs (AKA Allegra Martinelli) blew back into town, I’ve been flirting with disaster. Literally. I doubt that woman’s ever met a rule that she didn’t want to at least bend. And, as luck would have it, it’s my job to try and stop her. I love my job, and I think I love her. But there’s not enough wine in Napa to convince me that I’ll be able to hang on to them both.
Legs keeps likening us to Romeo and Juliet. And as I keep trying to remind her; that kind of story tends not to end well. I’m sure there are exceptions, but are we gonna be one of them? I guess we’ll find out.
No comments:
Post a Comment