You don’t need to pronounce it. All you need is a corkscrew and a wineglass. I discovered this marvel the final day of last summer’s visit to Corsica, right before flying to Marseille. I’d heard of a restaurant, La Flotta, up at the base of the imposing Monte Grosso. The paved road turned to dirt then narrowed to a car’s width. Tossin’ and a-turnin’, wondering where in the . . . and then, like finding an oasis in the desert, Gail and I reached a lone little restaurant under the looming granite peak. Cows grazed the parking lot.
     The sommelier was a treat. We discussed the great domaines: Arena, Leccia, Nicrosi, Abbatucci—then she insisted we try a new wine, a young woman’s first release, a rosé: “You’d better try it today because our staff has almost drunk it all up. We didn’t even put it on our wine list,” she said.
     She poured one of the most memorable wines I’ve tasted—no, not complex and grandiose. Not powerful and earthshaking. No, au contraire. Here’s a rosé that is almost weightless. Perfumed on the nose, then an ethereal touch as it spreads across the palate, then nothing remains but that gorgeous, heavenly perfume. Yum. To know it is to love it.

Just a few miles inland from Corsica’s southwestern coast, surrounded by craggy granite cliffs, lush woodlands, and olive groves, Jean-Charles Abbatucci’s land is replete with fragrant shrubs and animals roaming among the vines. Jean-Charles took over his family’s domaine in the early ’90s from his father, a botanist specializing in grapevines, who spent his time traveling to remote corners of Corsica in search of native varieties to salvage and propagate. Immersed in this education from a young age, Jean-Charles learned the value of preserving the island’s heirloom grapes, about how they are best adapted to the climate, and how older vines and their deep root structures help to maintain a healthy vineyard.
     Named after his daughter, Faustine, Abbatucci’s Rosé is brimming with maquis, the equivalent of mainland France’s garrigue–think myrtle, immortelle, heather, and rockrose. Made from mostly Sciaccarellu grown in solid granite just a twenty minute drive from the Mediterranean Sea, his grapes are infused with seaspray and stone, and the resulting rosé boasts a glistening, sunkissed quality, loaded with sour cherry and pomelo citrus. 
     Jean-Charles’ motto, referring to his holistic approach to winemaking, points to the extra work and patience required to achieve great wines of place: take ten steps towards nature, and she’ll take one step towards you. Those odds might deter a less devoted vigneron, but Jean-Charles remains unfazed, and utterly enthusiastic. He calls the practice of reviving ancient, biodynamic farming techniques “historical viticulture,” and uses it to harness the heritage of l'Île de beauté in his wines. Historical, yes, and a touch heroic, too.

Electric light magenta, this wine’s beautiful hue catches the eye in particularly attention-grabbing fashion. Yves Leccia cultivates the bottling predominantly from Niellucciu, the Corsican cousin of Sangiovese. Bright, savory, and structured, this wine sinks into your teeth a bit more and leaves a strong impression of Corsican identity and flavor. I can easily see it accompanying an entire alfresco meal if desired, from briny anchovies and olives to grilled fish and vegetables to wild herb-rubbed and charcoal-seared meats.