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• Inviting aromas of dry cherry, cinnamon, clove, roses and a touch of white pepper. It has bright citrusy acidity with a deft touch of cantaloupe and spicy nutmeg.
Anyone who has even been mildly interested in my 11-year wine writing career knows I dig pink wines. Not the sweetish white-zin types (not that there is anything wrong with them), but the zesty, fragrant, tart, refreshing, spicy, food-friendly and, most importantly, dry pink wines, otherwise known as rosés, rosatos or rosados, depending on the country of origin.
Over this period, I have either recommended or mentioned Domaine Nizas, located in the South of France, at least six times…make that seven now. My earliest record dates back to 2003. Why? Because I love it! The current vintage is no exception.
My colleague and long-suffering reader, Karin Carman, recently reminded me the other day that I had yet to write about pink wines this year. “Vat are you waiting for?” she asked in her wonderful German accent. “Christmas, perhaps?”
Ach du Lieber! Uber haupt nicht. (My goodness! Of course not.) Dry pinks are the poster wines for summer, but I needed an angle. As I perused my wine store’s stash of dry pink wines, I notice that the prices of Domaine Nizas (and a couple of the others I rather enjoy such as Château d’Esclans’ Whispering Angel and Domaines Ott’s Cour de Grain ) have gotten a little extreme, in excess of $20.
That struck me as wrong. At its heart, a dry pink wine should be simple, carefree and inexpensive. As I looked down the long line of pink bottles, I also noticed that darn near all of them have corks. With the prevalence and general world-wide acceptance of screwtops, a dry pink wine without a screwtop violates the simplicity guideline mentioned earlier in this paragraph.
So, get yourself an inexpensive dry pink wine with a twist-off top and pour yourself a generous portion before you read next week’s column. As Karin knows, my columns are much more interesting when accompanied by a large glass of wine.