Or by any name, where the hell are they?

Apparently I am the designated “ranter”. Some are born to rant others have it thrust upon. In my case it’s both. Today’s complaint is the dearth of rosé wines to buy around here. Now granted we shop in supermarkets for much of our wine. Supermarkets aren’t known to be on the cutting edge of the wine world, but I went to two national chains and neither had a single bottle (unless you consider Sutter Home White Zin a rosé, which I don’t).  The local wine shops that are near here also have a very limited selection of rosés in stock.

But my gripe isn’t with them. Its with us.

NOT found locally

The wine drinking public, at least around here, has forsaken rosé, or perhaps never embraced it. It’s a shame if you ask me. Actually it’s a shame even if you don’t ask me. Especially heading into the warmer weather.

For pairing with a wide variety of light summer fare and for pure summer refreshment rosés are hard to beat. If you never have had one,  give yourself a treat and find a good rosé. Not the sweeter White Zins or White Merlots but something dryer, with some nice zingly acid to balance the fruit. You’ll find red fruit, including cherry and strawberry, citrus, and perhaps herb, spice or minerals lurking, as well as peach, melon, flowers, and other flavors usually attributed to whites.

Somehow, here in America, rosé got a bad rap, or had bad timing. Used to be that the two most widely known and enjoyed imported wines were Lancers and Mateus. I hear they were nice, simple, fruity, tasty easy to drink Portuguese rosés. But then the White Zinfandel thing happened. Not being one to cast aspersions (yeah, right) but apparently rosé was lumped in with it as being pink and not worthy of serious notice. So, I haven’t seen a bottle of Lancers since the old pottery bottle that sat on our parent’s bookshelf when us catz were just kitz.

And so here we are, me bitching about not being able to easily find a good rosé around here and you reading about it.

But all is not lost. My local wine shop, Oregon Wine Cellars, has come through. Geno (he runs the place) turned my sister and I onto a cheeky little number, A to Z 2009 Rosé from Southern Oregon.  A delicious rosé made from Sangiovese, with red fruit and berry and sweet spice. Perfectly balanced and delightful to relax with on a hot summer afternoon or with light summer fare. This one heads our list of Oregon rosés worth noting. (Sadly this vintage appears sold out unless your local shop still has some stocked.)

More rosés to be tasted soon. Stand by for our 5 continent rosé tasting tour results (taking place at home compliments of K & L Wines, Wine.com and UPS. Unfortunately not at the actual wineries). All rosés we are sampling are under $20.

Tell us what rosés you like!

Ever wish you owned your own winery so you could make wine just the way you like it? I sure do. But short of buying some land and starting a vineyard, something not in the cards for me right now, I’ve come up with a fun and effective way of making a wine to my specifications. After market blending! (I hear the shocked gasps of winemakers everywhere.)

We (wine catz) drink inexpensive wines on a daily basis, and many seem to be wanting in some way or another. Only  rarely do we find a wine in the $5 to $12 price range that fits the bill in every way.

It’s a common problem. Rarely do professional wine makers always find one grape variety or one year that has every characteristic they’re looking for either.  So often the problem is solved by blending different grape varieties, grapes from different vineyards, or marrying together wine from several years. Blending can either help hide flaws, or simply allow the various strong points of each part of the blend to enhance and complement each other.  A classic example of blending being the traditional mix in a Red Bordeaux of Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc and Merlot.

But, interestingly enough, for many years in the United States it seemed that blends were looked down on. Single varietal wines were king.  If you were looking for a nice bottle of red wine, you bought a Cabernet Sauvignon or a Zinfandel. Blends were for cheap jug wines and were given phoney regional designation names like “Burgundy” to increase their appeal.

As the years passed however, more and more winemakers started making blends or Meritages of 2, 3, or more different grape varieties in all sorts of new combinations, and doing it well. Today there are lots of choices on the shelves of high quality blends proudly and unashamedly bearing labels that denote them as “Red” and nothing more. Some of them are as expensive as their traditional well-known Bordeaux counterparts, but many, many of these blended wines are reasonably priced and are ready to drink today – approachable, easy to love, delicious wines.

Back to our daily bottle. A winemaker blends a wine for their own purposes, or for their specific taste, why shouldn’t we, or for that matter, why not you? Once you’ve tasted enough wines and have a catalog of their unique attributes in your head or in tasting notes you’ve taken at a tasting or two, you will be able to formulate some blends of your own. We did just that the other day. It was easy and fun and a great way to end up with  a wine that suits your taste exactly.

In this instance we had gathered together 4 or 5 different reds and had a tasting. Some were quite good. Others had noticeable shortcomings. We then did some judicial mixing until we hit upon the right combination. In this way we were able to make a blend that suited our palette. It was great fun. Not only is it fun to “make” some good wine, but it’s a great way to hone your tasting skills.

So gather together some friends some wines and a bunch of glasses and have a wine tasting/ blending party soon.

glass of wine with currants

There are so many wines out there! How to choose? When prowling around for a new affordable tasty “drink now” wine, our primary resource in making a selection is often reading about, or listening to, someone’s recommendations, and descriptions.

There is a large, fairly standard set of descriptive tasting terms for wines. Berries, licorice, apple, citrus, smoke, tropical fruit, etc.. Some of these terms are universally evocative. These help us choose a wine that suits our tastes. On the other hand, some are a rather unhelpful – even to those of us who have been drinking wine all our lives. What does “red fruit” taste or smell like exactly, or a currant? (I’ve never eaten one, have you?).

Not only do these terms indicate what to look for in a wine, but they also show what to avoid. I personally don’t chew saddles for pleasure, or snack on dirt, so I tend to mostly steer clear of wines that are described primarily by words like leather or earth. COmplex, maybe, enjoyable, not so much for me. Right now I am into wines that reflect the fruit aspect of the grape so I lock onto words that describe fruity aspects of a wine. But that’s just me.

Another thing I watch for are non-specific descriptive terms like “bright” or  “lively” on a label. I find if the wine maker can’t be clear about the attributes of their own wine quite possibly there is something to hide. Bright just might mean too much acid. (Wine Cat Judy must interject here and say she is guilty of using the term “bright”.)

Of course the worst of it is when people lie. Oh yeah, it happens. How about that sour, woody bottle of red that described itself on the label as chock full of cherries and berries?

Of course now comes the really onerous task of refining our palate vocabulary by tasting some affordable ready to drink “now” wines. Time for a good Cab. Maybe we will finally figure out what a currant tastes like.