A few of weeks ago, I invited a few writers here in Houston to my house for what I believe to be the largest blind tasting of American True Rosés of the year.
What is a “True Rosé”?
Well, there are essentially three ways to make a rosé wine. The first, which is rarely practiced outside of sparkling wine production, is simply a blend of red wine and white wine. The second, which is widely practiced around the world, is called the “Saignée Method” where shortly after red grapes are crushed, a portion of the grape juice (after brief contact with the skins) is bled off (“saignée” means “bled” in French). This bled-off wine is then vinified as if it were a white wine.
The third option is what I call a “True Rosé.” In this process, the grapes are raised, picked, and processed with the singular idea of making rosé in mind. True Rosés are therefore not a byproduct of red wine production (like saignées), they are intentionally or purposefully made. They are True Rosés.
I have been fortunate enough to be on a few press trips due to this little blog and thus I have visited numerous wine regions with other members of the media. Many of them have become friends and I look forward to reconnecting when we are paired once again on a trip or at a tasting.
There is one aspect of this familiarity that is a bit of a pain in the rear, however. Whenever I taste a new (to me) rosé, I always ask whether it is a True Rosé or not. Why? I’ll get to that below. It becomes a pain in the rear because the other wine writers in the group (at least those who know me) let out a collective groan as if to say “Here he goes, again.“
I never ask, but my question to those other writers (and PR people for that matter) is “Why aren’t you asking this question??”
I am about to go into the weeds of wine writing/wine geekdom here, so if you would rather not end up with a headache, skip the section below in BLUE.
In general, wine writers want to know about all aspects of wine production from the broad (e.g., what grape varieties are used) to the ridiculously sublime (not just if oak is used, but American or French [or Hungarian, etc.], what “toast” [the amount of charring done to the barrel] is applied, even the particular effing forest from whence came the trees).
But I have never heard a single writer (other than me) ask about how a particular rosé was made (I know this for a fact since had someone else asked, I would have dropped to a knee and proposed on the spot, regardless of gender or either of our individual marital statuses).
The same is not true when the discussion turns to sparkling wine and most people want to know the method used. Specifically, writers (and therefore their readers) want to determine whether the given wine was made using the “traditional method” (i.e., it was made in the same fashion as champagne) or not.
That does not seem to be the case when it comes to rosé, for whatever reason, which is too bad for the simple fact that those winemakers who make an intentional rosé (again, what I call a “True Rosé”) tend to be pretty darned enthusiastic about it. And, let’s not forget, that True Rosés tend to be better than their saignée counterparts.*
*Here I insert my regular disclaimer that there are many fine saignées out there (including one of my favorite rosés, the Tongue Dancer Rosé of Pinot Noir) but all things being equal, a rosé made with intention will be better than one that is a byproduct of red wine production.
OK. Enough geekiness.
A few weeks ago, our intrepid group tried 51 American Rosés on a sweltering Sunday, trying to find the best. As promised, I am publishing my actual notes from the tasting, which we tasted in 13 flights of 4 wines. Here is the last set of two flights.
2025 Big Table Farm Laughing Pig Rosé, Willamette Valley, OR: Retail $36. Very Responsible Bottle (444g; 15.7oz). After reading the reviews for this wine online and noting that it is distributed by Skurnik, I have to assume that this was a bad bottle, it was not good. Luckily, they sent me two bottles and I will try the other bottle this weekend and get back to you. So for now? Unrated.
*2024 Michael-David Vineyards Rosé, Lodi, CA: Retail $22. Extremely Heavy Bottle (804g; 28.3oz). Syrah, Cabernet Franc, Merlot. Medium to light, maybe? With tons of melon on the nose. Not terrible; there is plenty of acid, for sure, but the fruit is definitely lacking and there is nothing to keep up with all of that acid. Very Good. 88 Points.
**2024 Lightly Rosé, Monterey County, CA: Retail $12. Very Responsible Bottle (427g; 15.1oz). Varietal Composition? True Rosé? Dark-ish in the glass, a solid orange color with a classic nose of ripe strawberry and a bit of peach. Perhaps a bit older? Good fruit (albeit a bit older), and even better acidity, but this is on the verge of an acquired taste kind of thing. Excellent. 91 Points.
2025 Rodney Strong Pinot Noir Rosé, Russian River Valley, CA: Retail $25. Very Responsible Bottle (432g; 15.2oz). Screw Cap. Bubblegum pink. With a fantastic strawberry nose and palate, quite tart and balanced, this is really fantastic, which is surprising given the color (which I view as a bit contrived, but what do I know?), but color be damned, this is really Outstanding. 94 Points.
2022 Tercero Mourvèdre Rosé, Santa Barbara County, CA: Retail $30. Under screw cap. True Rosé. Almost an orange wine in both color and nose as it is a bit oxidized, but this is a solid wine. Sure, it is not fresh, it is not fruity, and it is unlike most (all?) rosés, but it is really well-made and balanced. Tasting this blind, I am guessing this has a bit of age on it, but if I am right, it serves as testament to my assertion that well-made can age beautifully. Excellent. 92 Points.
*2024 Cruess Rosé of Grenache, Dry Creek Valley, CA: Retail $25. Very Responsible Bottle (477g; 16.8oz). Really, really light, in color, even Sauvignon Blanc kinda light with a bit of peach and a touch of smoke on the nose. Yeah, the fruit here is more white wine than rosé, with grapefruit, lemon, this wine is certainly nice, even really nice, but “rosé”? Excellent. 90 Points.
2025 Smith-Madrone Rosé, Spring Mountain District, Napa Valley, CA: Retail $30. Very Responsible Bottle (477g; 16.8oz). 50% Merlot, 50% Cabernet Franc. To say this is “fairly dark in color” is akin to claiming the poe “is fairly catholic in beliefs”, I wonder, is this a dark rosé or light red? Rich and loaded with fruit on the nose along with tons of jalapeño. Whoa. The palate will challenge even the most open-minded among us: “what is a ‘rosé’?” While I will leave that debate for another time, what is undebatable, at least in my mind, is that this is fabulous, and perhaps the most versatile wine I have tried in some time. Whoa. Outstanding. 95 Points.
2025 Tongue Dancer Pinot Noir Rosé, Sonoma Coast, CA: Retail $25. Responsible Bottle (537g; 18.9oz). Rich pinkish orange in color, and quite shy on the nose, the palate is more expressive, but most of the time is spent seeking out the fruit. By the late mid-palate, the fruit shows up and serves to round out the wine. It is balanced and well-done, but the fruit certainly plays a secondary role. Excellent. 91 Points.
2025 Girasole Vineyards Rosé, Mendocino County, CA: Retail $18. Under screw cap. 50% Zinfandel, 25% Sangiovese, 25% Pinot Noir. Pale, a light pink, with a slight orange tint in the glass. Good peach fruit on the nose, with a touch of minerality on the nose. Good acidity and balance, but the tartness is the driver here. Excellent. 91 Points.
Flights 1-3 Flights 4-6 Flights 7-9 Flights 10-11
Note: Wines with one asterisk (*) were second bottles from last year’s tasting. Wines with two asterisks (**) I actually purchased to include in the tasting.
More coming soon!
the drunken cyclist 