This impeccably made rosé from the raw and rustic landscape of the Languedoc requires a moment to open up, eventually releasing all the brambly qualities of the sunbaked shrubs and herbs that seem to infuse its beautifully plump fruit. It is an irresistibly charming, delightfully refreshing wine.

Surrounded by red wine districts like Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Vacqueyras, and Lirac, Tavel is the only AOC in the southern Rhône dedicated entirely to rosé production. And what a rosé it is! Famously lauded by Ernest Hemingway, who declared it his favorite wine, and a staple on the table of at least two French kings, Tavel takes its pink wine seriously.
      Unlike many rosés, which use second-class fruit not deemed suitable for reds, the raw material here is picked exclusively for the purpose of creating a top-class rosé. Guillaume Demoulin, a fourth-generation vigneron, crafts Trinquevedel’s Tavel—a blend dominated by Grenache—by way of a skin maceration at cold temperature lasting up to two days, depending on the vintage. This process draws out aromatics of wild strawberry and thyme, while achieving a seductive deep pink color.
      Delightful with a bowl of olives in the summer, this no-nonsense rosé also has the structure to stand up to anything off the barbecue.

More than any other rosé (or red) in our book, Trinquevedel’s Tavel is reminiscent of the divine freshness of a wild-harvested summer strawberry. Like the berries you might want to spoon atop a heaping pile of barely sweetened whipped cream, this rosé will be the star of, and finishing touch to, any meal.

Eric’s latest cuvée, a cranberry-orange tinted Cabernet Franc rosé, is a mouthwatering homage to the carefree moments in life. I get blood orange and clove on the palate—surprisingly complex notes for a wine whose name means “nothing serious.” With that moniker, I believe he has undersold what we have here!

Pour yourself a glass of vigneronne Agnès Henry’s rosé to experience the delicate side of Bandol—a delightful contrast to the more structured, powerful rosés from the likes of Tempier or Gros ’Noré. Gentle and full of charm, it offers notes of clementine, white peach, and lavender. Perfect with a grapefruit and chicory salad, it works equally well with my favorite summer dish, sliced heirloom tomatoes topped with buffalo mozzarella and abundant sweet basil. If you manage not to drink it all in one sitting, it gets better on day two.

Until we started importing Anne Amalric’s rosés I had never seen a wine so pale, not even a blanc. A bottle of “Pauline,” sheer as it may be, is deceptively bold on the palate. I recommended that a friend pick up a bottle from our shop in Berkeley, and shortly afterwards she messaged me, “This is the best rosé I’ve ever had.”

Any occasion I get to drink Mas Champart rosé is an opportunity I relish. Though it may seem trite to compare it to Bandol, at a third of the price and made from 70% Mourvèdre and 30% Cinsault, it’s as close to anything you’ll find that’s worthy of such a comparison. Since it hails from the Languedoc, I love to pair it with Mediterranean-inspired snacks like tinned fish, roasted red peppers, and baba ganoush.