09 Villa des Anges, Vin de Pays d'Oc Rose Old Vines

What is that taste? Nitrates? Cured intestine? Lard? Don't run away just yet. You've not only had it, you love it. It's whatever's embedded deep in the soul of great salumi. Finocchiona, a personal favorite, but also just outside the spice of coppa, in the fat of San Daniele prosciutto, crunchy Reggiano, red pepper flakes--the fruity red flakes, not the white seeds--on a spinach pizza. It's the reason you eat this stuff instead of pork tenderloin. I don't know what happened here, but clearly something did. Something is dying. I guess, in some respects, it really just tastes like time. I'm not saying this cinsault-based wine is in rigor, but maybe the guy who made it is. It's salt. Not Morton's per se--not even the good kosher stuff. It's what salt does to food. What happens to chicken fat after it's rendered off a great bird (this is the best fat in the world, porcine fetishists be damned) crusted in the crystals. I'm telling you. That's almost wholly the definition of great rose--taking the color and force out of red wine and replacing it with... seasoning. That's precisely what's happening here. Who cares how good the fruit is? Pump in some CO2, and you might just have Bouzy on your hands. This isn't tremendous in the way that you'd bring it to a tasting with your winegeek friends. It's more edifying. When you drink it, it's how you might feel after winning an argument with your parents. See, it makes perfect sense that I come home after midnight as long as I'm sober enough in the morning to drive my sister to school. You're an adult now. You make your own choices. That's all that this wine asks of you. Don't look to the ratings. For godsake, put your flavor wheel next to the Rolodex in your recycling. And try to focus for a moment. Focus on the simple, but pure watermelon and strawberry sweetness in this wine. The slightly pink ones you buy two weeks before the farmers' market opens. The insides of those candies that didn't really taste like strawberry but came packaged in strawberry wrappers. That's exactly what this tastes like. Somebody kill a tuna. It's a purpose, a minerality, that only good rose has. Rose knows it's a food wine. It knows, unless you live near a pool or in Provence, to never position itself on its own merits. It's a wine of... possibility. One that graciously complements you, extends your party. Sure, I'll have one more if there's any shrimp left. It's the reason you can't stop eating Chinese food. The umami of cured pork and absolutely nothing else. The wonderment of why we're still here, in this bar, on a Tuesday well past bedtime. It's a way forward. An amuse bouche. Something that will never accurately be committed to words. And while this rose isn't the first to do it, it does do it and that makes it great. That's what keeps us smiling.

From time to time, we accept sponsors at 750 mL, though they have no influence on the wines we choose to review. Along those lines, one of our sponsors this month, is offering half-off shipping when you buy a half a case of wine. If you're interested, use the code juneone to buy wine online. I have no idea if this wine is sold there.