Rosés

Refreshing, easy to drink, and often forgettable, rosé is not a style of wine I drink, or even taste, much of. It is, however, an important category. The French drink more rosé than they do white wine. Consumption in the US, which drinks more rosé than any other country after France, accounts for 13% of wine, a figure which rises year after year. There's an increased emphasis on quality dry rosés too, over cheap sweet blush wines - sales of premium rosé were up by nearly 40% in 2013.

For all these reasons, it was very useful to have a tasting of five very different rosés with a group of Diploma students this week. This is the random order we tasted the wines in.

California, White Zin, Sancerre, Provence, Navarra

the wines

Saved Magic Marker 2013 (California) ($15)

I don't think I have ever had a blend like this: 31% Grenache, 30% Pinot Noir, 20% Cabernet Franc, 10% Sangiovese, 6% Chardonnay, 2% Malbec, and 1% "Tokai Fruilano" (a grape from north-east Italy once called Tocai Fruilano, also known as Sauvigonasse, and now simply called Fruilano). It's nice to see a Californian producer embracing the art of blending, but this is taking it to extremes.

This was a decent alternative to White Zin (see next wine). A very similar colour, with aromas of strawberries, sweet melon, and a pleasant herbal, white flower perfume, and, most importantly, a dry finish.

Beringer White Zinfandel NV (California) ($7-8)

In Champagne, non-vintage wines are a good thing. In still wine, they are not. "America's favourite White Zinfandel" is typical of its type. One of the many errors the 1970s are responsible for, White Zin removes all the qualities from California's archetypal grape to produce an overly sweet, low alcohol (9% in this case), extremely fruity wine. These fruits are not fresh and attractive, but confected and candied. One member of the tasting group used the term "artificial strawberries." There are plenty of bad or indifferent wines I understand the popularity of, but White Zin is not one of them: too sweet to go with food and too sweet and confected and not acidic enough to be refreshing on its own.

Domaine des Côtes Blanches 2013 (Sancerre) ($20)

As famous as Sancerre is for its Sauvignon Blanc, it also produces a certain amount of rosé from Pinot Noir. Much paler in colour and with a much more complex and appealing nose than the two Californian wines featuring delicate red fruits of cranberry and strawberry, with blood oranges and jasmine. Likewise on the refreshing palate, with some green olives and a light liquorice finish. This was a very good rosé at an attractive price point: delicate and refreshing enough for a summer's day, but substantial enough to accompany a barbeque.

Domaines Ott Château de Selle Coeur de Grain 2013 (Provence) ($45)

Provence is the French home of rosé - light, pale wines knocked back by the region's many tourists in the hot afternoon sun. 35% of France's appellation rosés come from Provence, and it's Provence that is leading the fashion for dry rosés. As pale as Provençal rosé traditionally is though, this wine was something else: in a blind tasting I would have had this down as a white wine and it wasn't immediately clear what made it a rosé until we learnt that it's a blend of Grenache (50%), Cinsault (30%), Syrah (15%), and Cabernet Sauvignon (5%). It was, however, my favourite of the five wines. A slightly stinky, farmyard nose with mushrooms, apricots, and melons. The mouth was surprisingly full-bodied given its colour, with tropical fruits and white pepper and vanilla spices. This wine was outstanding, though very unusual.

Señorio de Sarria Viñedo No.5 2013 (Navarra) ($20)

Navarra has the potential to make great wine, from the Rioja grapes Garnacha and, to a lesser extent, Tempranillo, as well as Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot which have long been planted there. However, the region is better known for its rosé (rosado), usually made from Garnacha. This wine was almost as bad as the White Zin. A deep, unattractive pink-red colour, with aggressive aromas of watermelon, candied sweets, peardrops, and overripe strawberries. These obvious fruity aromas were not compensated by any redeeming qualities. Spain is my favourite wine country, but sometimes it does not do itself any favours.

Although the Provence wine was the best of the five, it did not feel like a rosé. The Sancerre was the best example of what rosé can and should be like: a pale orange, with nice red fruits, herbal and lightly spicy, and refreshing enough to be drunk on its own as well as with food. Rosés with deep pink colours are, I conclude, to be avoided.