Each spring, I head to the Beaujolais region for one of my favorite wine-related rituals of the year. The annual tasting at Château Thivin is memorable for many reasons, not least of which is the opportunity to catch up with the lovely Geoffray family and reflect on thirty years of business together. Then there is the scrupulous tasting and blending of a dozen stellar tanks of Gamay for their flagship Côte-de-Brouilly bottling, followed by the generous lunch of traditional French comfort food, executed to perfection by Evelyne Geoffray and often accompanied by a special older vintage.
    But the first order of business, before we stain our teeth with crimson rouges or sample any of Evelyne’s creations, is to taste Thivin’s Beaujolais-Villages rosé. It’s the perfect mise en bouche, as the French say—a palate opener to sharpen the senses and introduce your taste buds to the day’s first drops of wine.
    Thivin’s Beaujolais-Villages vines sit opposite the Côte-de-Brouilly, where steep expanses of pink granite cascade down from wooded hilltops toward the valley below. These Gamay vines are over fifty years old—rare in rosé production—and you can sense a mouthwatering salinity that mimics the old-vine roots licking up mineral salts from the granitic bedrock.
    Also unusual for rosé production, the Geoffrays ferment this wine with native yeasts and embrace malolactic fermentation, a practice Kermit and I have long associated with our favorite rosés. The result is a silky mouthfeel and delicate fruit that reflects the gentleness of these natural methods. The choice to harvest early assures a low alcohol content and a spark of freshness that enlivens one’s palate.
   With its delightful peachiness and stimulating hints of its granitic terroir, Thivin’s rosé really is the ideal mise en bouche. Pouring a cold glass is just what’s needed to charm the senses in anticipation of more great things to come.