Rosé and Immortality

wbwToday is Wine Blog Wednesday; the theme is dry rosé.

Last night I opened a Tavel, Chateau De Trinquevedel, 2011. It was a beautiful coppery rose color with a great minerality and bright crispness, interwoven with an undercurrent of a soft, subtle tea-rose flavor. I served it with a roasted salmon with lime-butter along with caramelized zucchini and onion seasoned with beau monde and farmer’s market sweet white corn on the cob. The vegetables were delicious, but the rich, lime-dusted, wild-caught, sockeye salmon with the rosé was perfect. The buttery richness of the salmon softened the tannins (yes, this rosé had some good tannins) of the wine. The acidity of both food and wine complemented each other nicely.

Chateau De Trinquevedel is made from six grapes. It’s mainly Grenache along with Cinsault, Clairette, Syrah, Mourvèdre, and Bourboulenc. They are grown in an Astien fluvil sand with quartz round pebbles and deep clay loam. The wine is cold macerated for two to four days, fermented for 20, then aged in stainless vats for six months.

I have no idea what kind of soil the zucchini, onion and corn were grown in. I suppose I could have asked the farmers when I bought it from them. But it has never occurred to me to do so.

What is it about wine that is so intriguing and compelling it makes us want to know everything about it? It has depths and dimensions like no other consumable food or drink, each wine nuanced and different from the last, each sip expresses itself a little differently as the wine evolves and interacts with the food. There is no other food or drink that can be so romanticized, that inspires so much interest, curiousity, and dogged devotion. In the words of Eduardo Galeano, “We are mortal until the first kiss and the second glass of wine.”