Slate's Bizbox
drink: Wine, beer, and other potent potables.

In the PinkHow rosé Champagnes got hot.

By Mike Steinberger
Posted Friday, Dec. 22, 2006, at 3:38 PM ET

Not so long ago, rosé Champagnes were bastard bubblies, largely shunned by the wine-buying public and dimly regarded even by many of the people who made them. Now, suddenly, rosés are the most fashionable sparkling wines, and among the trendiest wines period. They are ubiquitous in nightclubs and obligatory at weddings. Sommeliers are pushing them with unprecedented zeal, and many wine retailers have made them showcase items this holiday season—if they can get their hands on them. Soaring demand has created supply shortfalls for a number of sought-after rosés.

In contrast to the recent pinot noir boom, which can be traced to the movie Sideways, the rosé craze lacks an easily identifiable cause. It has been suggested that aesthetics are a factor—rosés are such pretty wines, and the color is synonymous with celebration and romance. But rosés were no less evocative and pleasing to the eye 20 years ago. People in the Champagne business generally assume that the rosé phenomenon took root on the nightclub scene. But there isn't much supporting evidence. It doesn't appear that any one rosé has become the darling of club crawlers. Nor have those ultimate tastemakers, rap stars, embraced rosés.

A more interesting possibility, and one that suggests the rosé trend is no mere fad, is that pink wines in general have been de-stigmatized. Fifteen years ago, pink wine was synonymous, in the minds of many Americans, with Mateus Rosé, white zinfandel, and other blushing atrocities. Likewise, pink Champagne conjured thoughts of Cold Duck, the hideous concoction that was once this country's most popular sparkling wine. But through the efforts of several superb importers, such as Kermit Lynch, Robert Chadderdon, and Jorge Ordoñez, Americans have discovered that not all pink wines taste like cotton candy and that France and Spain are awash in bone-dry, thoroughly winsome rosés. Not only have these wines become acceptable; they have become, during the summer months at least, de rigueur. And this change in attitude has plainly benefited pink Champagnes.

Whatever lies behind this sudden enthusiasm for roses, the leading Champagne houses are scrambling to cash in. In 1995, less than 2 percent of the Champagnes imported into the United States were rosés; in 2005, that figure jumped to 6.4 percent, and this wasn't nearly enough to satisfy the demand. Earlier this year, Veuve Clicquot decided to launch a nonvintage rosé. (Nonvintage Champagnes are blends comprised of wines from several vintages and are the most basic bottlings produced by Champagne houses.) Given that Veuve is credited with having invented rosé Champagne back in 1777, it is astonishing that the company waited this long to introduce a nonvintage version—and doubly so that it took a rosé fetish in the United States to convince Veuve to do so. Even venerable Krug, one of Veuve's stablemates in the LVMH portfolio, recently unveiled a half-bottle version of its prized rosé.

The new demand for rosés will undoubtedly result in even higher prices for a category of Champagnes that already commands a hefty premium over other bubblies. Producers charge more for rosés because they are harder to make than other Champagnes, are made in smaller quantities, and usually need more time in the cellar. Rosé Champagnes are fashioned in one of two ways: either by macerating the juice with the skin of the pinot noir and/or pinot meunier grapes—the saignée method, as it is known—or by adding still red wine to the base wine. Although the former is the more traditional approach and is said, by the few who still use it, to yield better, longer-lasting wines, most Champagne aficionados will tell you that it is impossible in blind tastings to distinguish the two types of rosé. At any rate, rosés require more work than regular Champagnes, and because the red wine elements need lots of time to fully integrate, rosés tend to be held back from the market longer. The 1996 Dom Pérignon rosé, for instance, was aged at the winery for 10 years, versus seven for the regular 1996 Dom, and has just been released at a suggested retail price of $400 per bottle, which is more than double what the regular 1996 currently fetches.

VIEW AS SINGLE PAGE
Print This ArticlePRINTDiscuss this in The FrayDISCUSSEmail to a FriendE-MAIL
Share on FacebookPost to MySpace!Share with MixxDigg ThisShare with RedditShare with del.icio.usShare with FurlShare with Ma.gnolia.comShare with SphereShare with Stumble Upon
Mike Steinberger is Slate's wine columnist. He can be reached at .
Join the Fray: our reader discussion forum
What did you think of this article?
POST A MESSAGE | READ MESSAGES
Washington Post
The Washington Post
OPINIONS
Imagine if...
Hiatt | What if McCain had waged his campaign based on respect?
Editorial: Meddlesome PalinKing: The Danger of Palin Power