From the label:

This TBD Rouge is sourced and blended from five exceptional lots of four unique varieties sourced primarily from Lodi.

Zinfandel is the lead variety, followed by petite sirah and malbec. This unique combination yields a wine that is robust, spicy and engaging on the palate. Its dark ruby color and bright, fruit-forward aroma will draw you in to this exotic wine. Enjoy now and over the next five years with all your favorite meals.

Our review:

Oh, my, gawd. For a six dollar wine (even a 10 dollar one) this wine really knocked our socks off. But for us, it’s all the stuff we like: zinfandel, petite syrah, malbec in a strong, flavorful mouthful of yum. We had it with salmon, which may not have been the best choice, but neither the fish nor the wine seemed to care. We shall buy more of this.

As part of our seasonal wines, we’ve been enjoying “The Chicken Rosé.” It’s “The Chicken” because there’s a hen and rooster on the beige label.

From the label:

Cinsault 50%, Granache 40%, Syrah 10%

This dry Rosé wine is intensely fruity. It comes from vines grown high on the slopes of Mount Ventoux, one of the best vineyards in the Rhône Valley.

I like the grapes in this wine, and I think the formulation works quite well. It’s dark pink and needs to be well-chilled, but you don’t feel like you ought to put ice cubes in it like some rosés. It even worked well with our hearty steak dinner because it was just so hot out.

When it’s too late for Tavel, I look for The Chicken. It’s my favorite findable rosé.

Orthoclase: A
Plagioclase: ?? (he’s not around for me to ask.)

I don’t know if it was the wine itself, or the contrast with what we had been drinking, but it was good. Smooth and fruity, I felt like I was eating chocolate pudding after flirting with lemon for so long.

Unfortunately, since it was on sale, it may no longer be available (World Market tends to discount when the brand/year is almost gone.) but if I see it, I’ll get more. Then I’ll be able to test if it really is the wine.

Orthoclase: A
Plagioclae: A

From the label:

Varietal Blend: 50% Sauvignon, 10% Muscadelle, 40% Semillon.

Tasting Notes: The fresh, delicate nose is enhanced with aroma of citrus and peat. On the palate, these blend with soft spice notes. The abundance of fruit lingers on the finish, yielding a remarkably versatile wine that will pair well with a wide range of light dishes, and is perfect by itself.

My notes: It’s ok for a white wine. Light, not particularly sweet, but not too acidy (and not particularly sulphury, either, just a bit of the smell of hair salon).

I don’t remember where we got it or what we paid, but I think it was Trader Joes, and it would have been $10 or so (since that’s what we pay for most wine).

I would get it again, but not by the case. Plagioclase calls it a “good second white wine.” I’m unsure whether that means the second bottle in an evening, or a reasonable choice if one’s number one white is not available.

Orthoclase: Solid B.
Plagioclase: Solid B.

One of the benefits(?) of learning to drink wine late in life is that one does not go through the teen-age period of drinking any wine as long as it’s cheap. The wines available to the underaged are usually sweet and fruit-flavored (Boone’s Farm, anyone?). Given that I don’t have bad (hangover) associations with pink wine, I never had any prejudice against rosés when I started enjoying wine about 15 years ago.¹

Since we were living in Europe when we started drinking wine, we were exposed more to European wines (often the Albert Heijn special). European rosés for the European market are typically crisp and dry, and not particularly sweet, suitable for a late spring day when you don’t really want a wow! red wine.²

When we moved back to the US, many of the wines we had become familiar with were no longer available. So when it came to rosé season, we tried the US versions.

They sucked. Too sweet by a zillion, and you feel like you’re eating a spoonful of sugar, to boot.³ Therefore, we tend to drink only European rosés, primarily French, for some reason (though we have branched out on occasion).

Tonight we treated ourselves to a Tavel. Tavel wines are considered to be the crème of rosés. Since one’s enjoyment of wine is strictly a function of one’s preferences, that is a statement that can be argued with. However, I find Tavel to be one of my favorite types of rosés.

This one, Chateau de Trinquevedel 2007 did not disappoint. A darkish-pink color, an odor of minerals rather than sugar, smooth with just a bit of prickles on the sides of the tongue, it’s an ideal wine for the rosé skeptic who’s afraid they’re going to end up with white zinfandel.

It is expensive for a rosé. We paid about $20 (at a local wine merchant), while other French rosés go for $10 or less. But this is one of those wines that you want to have at least once in a summer, and you want to save it for some special occasion, say, you’ve just mown the lawn for the first time all year. (In other words, don’t wait too long to enjoy it — find an occasion and make it special.)

I don’t remember having this particular producer before, but that is of little consequence. I have no idea who makes the “best” Tavel, but I doubt you can go wrong with any of them.

1. Well into adulthood
2. I came late to white wine, which is apparently atypical.
3. And please, let’s not talk about “white” versions of any normally red wine.