This spring I am going to crusade for the faint of color. That’s right, I’m going pink. As the monotonous drumbeats of winter—gray sky, damp wind, and unrelenting cold recede, I long to fill my brain with sunshine and my glass with rosé.

More than any other wine, rosés evoke heavenly imagery: The vineyards of Bandol neighbor inland seas of purple lavender; rosés from the Malbec grape of Argentina call forth cobalt skies above the Andes; and springtime in Barcelona with a fresh glass of rosado alongside a platter of charred leeks.

Wine, like music, may elicit sensual memories. I recall a day of cycling in the early 1980s along Seneca Lake. The sun was blistering and the hills long. After a few hours, parched and saddle-sore, we stopped in a shady field to enjoy our packed lunch. Propitiously, along the way, we had purchased a chilled bottle of “blush” from a local winery. That modest luncheon and simple wine, heartily enjoyed, remains as one of my most fondly remembered wine experiences. This spring, as I make my way through a vast array of ethereally dry, salmon-pink to light-red rosés, my hope is that you will join me for a glass of wine that recalls lazy afternoons atop a field, delicious tidbits and warmer days.

Parlor pink

Despite the fact that rosés are traditionally produced in a dry style, the putative notion that all pink wine is neither serious nor delicious persists. The ubiquitous white zinfandel, sugary and neutral tasting, is the most likely culprit of this misconception. Perplexingly, white zinfandel, so named, is neither a white wine nor a proper zinfandel. Commercially, the idea to label a pink wine “white” came about in a stroke of marketing genius by Sutter Home in the 1970s, during a time when consumption trends heavily favored white wine. As red zinfandel grapes were widely planted throughout California, producers like Sutter Home were faced with either the costly prospect of ripping up vineyards or producing a palatable alternative for the white obsessed market.

White zinfandel, soft and sweet, with barely a trace of its red parentage, flooded the market and spurred on the creation of other “white” reds, e.g. white merlot, Grenache, and even cabernet. Technically, all rosés are made from red grapes that are white fleshed. Red wines achieve their color through prolonged contact with their dark skins, while pink wines achieve their rosy personality through minimal skin contact. Although blush wines continue to bear the brunt of wine snobbery, I tend toward a more generous appraisal. For instance, many novice wine drinkers have cultivated an appreciation for wine through this gentle host.

I recently contacted Beringer Wines to ask them by what method did they sweeten their hugely successful white zinfandel. Cynically, I had imagined bags of white cane sugar stacked alongside fermentation tanks when, in fact, Beringer’s white zinfandel contains no added ingredients! For its fruity taste the wine relies completely on the grape’s natural residual sugars. (Residual sugar is achieved through an incomplete fermentation resulting in a slightly sweet wine with lower alcohol.) Incidentally, thanks to the wildly popular white zinfandel, many vineyards were rescued from destruction, making available today, for red wine lovers, an array of lusty, old vine zinfandel.

From an American perspective, this is the story of pink wine. In truth, it is but a sidebar to the long history of rosé. If you will allow a detour away from the inventive marketing of mega-sized brands, you will be rewarded with one of the delights of the wine world.

The traditionally dry style of rosé, instead of whitewashing the personality of red wine, accentuates the tart, fruity flavors inherent in dark grapes. Strawberry, red raspberry, peach, and watermelon burst forth in a well-minded rosé. Unimpeded by the effects of muscular tannins, oaky flavors, or a heavy body, rosés exhibit a rare elegance seen only in the likes of Champagne.

If you are a red wine aficionado, you may be scoffing at this moment. Perhaps you have degraded rosé, in your hierarchy of wine, to a nonthreatening, if slightly irritating, agitator—a parlor pink exiled from serious consideration. In order to debunk these myths, I will present you with four darker styles of rosé that are sure to please the most stalwart of red wine drinkers, while diplomatically reaching out a conciliatory hand to white wine lovers. Rosé is, after all, served chilled.

Recommendations

Rosés vary in weight from the delicately hued, such as those from Provence, (serve with scallops, prosciutto and melon, or salad greens) to the darkly colored, such as Italy’s Montepulciano d’Abruzzo Cerasuolo Rosato. (I just had to include a wine with that many vowels.) Regardless of hue, rosés are simply less lumbering and more vibrant than most big reds. For the still skeptical red wine drinker, I recommend experimenting with a selection of heartier rosés.

First on my list in this super-charged category is an extraordinarily, dark ruby, rosato from Italy, made with the Nebbiolo grape of Barolo and Barbaresco fame, the Cantalupo Il Mimo 2006 or 2005 (this category of rosé will age well for three or more years). Serve this concentrated, densely layered beauty with assorted cured meats, roasted garlic, homemade ricotta-filled ravioli, or grilled lamb chops.

Another favorite of mine is the robust 2007 Crios Rosé de Malbec made by one of Argentina’s most talented winemakers, Susanna Balbo. Richly endowed with fruit, spice, and a mouthwatering finish, this wine is delicious to sip on its own but can be especially versatile food-wise. Try this dark plum-colored rosé with grilled chicken, smoked salmon, vegetarian chili, or barbeque ribs.

For a more intellectual drink (calling all Burgundy lovers), seek out the famous rosé wines from the town of Tavel, France. When purchasing a Tavel, a helpful approach is to stick with any well-known Côtes-du-Rhône producer such as Ségriès, Chapoutier, Lafond, Guigal, Perrin, and Domaine Mordorée. These producers are Châteauneuf-du-Pape superstars, making flagship wines that retail for $50 and up a bottle. The juice for the rosés comes from select vineyards and they are carefully crafted by extremely talented winemakers.

No list of rosés would be complete without mention of the value-laden category of Spanish rosados. Generally made from old vine Garnacha (Spanish for Grenache), these thirst-quenching wines are festive companions for a summer cookout. The 2007 Las Rocas Rosado, a perennial favorite at my house, retails for around $10. With enticing aromas of ripe strawberries and Red Delicious apples, this rosy-red wine is a perfect match for kicking back with tart, creamy-style cheeses, slices of chorizo sausage, a dish of oily Spanish almonds, and some lightly cured green olives.

Rosé’s versatility as a food pairing wine is unsurpassed. Especially good with seafood (try grilled shrimp and avocado), I have begun to prefer it with sushi. Although there may be no better match than Junmai sake with sashimi (fish pieces with no rice), I find that rice wine begins to taste flat with regular fish-on-rice sushi. Rosés, on the other hand, provide a zingy contrast to the blandness of starch with their red berry flavors, while also providing sufficient fruit to survive the spiciness of wasabi.

Whether lazing around a farmer’s hayfield until your legs allow you to resume a tour of cycling or dining out, I hope you will remember that pink wines are as diverse as the red grapes that they hail from.