The story goes that at last October’s Meilleur Sommelier de France competition, Olivier Poussier (who held the title of Meilleur Sommelier du Monde) was asked to offer a toast to rosé. Instead, he delivered its obituary. In front of his Provençal hosts he proclaimed that due to technology, rosé had become a travesty. The true version no longer existed. It seems behind the death of rosé was the obsession with a certain blushing virgin color. Palest of pinks. Onion skins. Delicacy and beauty. And when one is obsessed with a color instead of a wine, problems burble over.
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