Mont-Redon is one of those Chateauneuf du Pape wineries that totally messes with my life. They bottle wines like Zeus throws lightning bolts. Bolts. A place that throws out muscle-bound luxury wines like Dwayne Johnson with a Harvard degree in Veni, Vidi, Verberavi.
Then they turn around and make a wine that tastes like a kitten singing some sweet Bing Crosby ballads. This is one of those new-fangled rose wines that appeal to pretty much everyone, whether you are a crooner or a swooner (we don’t judge).
This bottle isn’t coming from their CdP vineyards, but a vineyard they own just across the river near Orange (and that’s your geography lesson for today).
I made a few rosé in my time as winemaker, and they always freaked me out. Pro note: sulfur bleaching isn’t much fun.
This wine rolls in the glass with a shocking pink-panther hue. The nose is fresh sage and wild strawberry (sauvage fraise for all you Francophiles out there). On the palate, it goes towards the one type of orange my wife hates (blood orange, how was I to know?) and a finish of crushed violets. As the bottle warms up, quince and fresh pear contribute to the delight.
I suggest serving with grilled vegetable tossed with olive oil, basil, and some sliced almonds.