How To Best Drink Rosé Wine

Sips for the soul from the Southern France

Rosé is best enjoyed at the end of a long journey. You should have worked up a proper sweat after an early morning train ride through the French countryside, followed by a 40-minute walk with a backpack through red, dusty roads while the Mediterranean temperature climbs. The rolling French hills seem less romantic when on foot, but you don’t seem to care knowing that today is Monday, and while your former coworkers are dredging through emails and client meetings, you are not and your only to-do is to arrive in Cassis.

When I got to Cassis, the first thing I noticed was the smell. I hadn’t smelled that in too long - the hot, dusty roads mixed with trees. It smelled of cultivated land and pure earth. - Journal entry

Rosé can be enjoyed on an empty stomach. I know this because I have done so. Upon arriving in Cassis, the hostel owner let me know that everyone else was at the rosé wine festival but that it was ending within the hour so I better hurry. When your choice is between your first meal of the day and a wine festival in the south of France (a region specializing in this kind of wine), you always choose the wine festival. 

One hour after I arrived, I was at the tail end of a local wine festival. 

Five hours after I arrived, I was cooling off in the hostel's infinity pool. - Journal entry

That was all I wrote about the wine festival in my journal, which is strange because even today, eight years later, the wine festival and my entire time in Cassis are my most vivid memories from that trip. The festival took place in the town square, perhaps the only square part of the town in a landscape that’s woven with twisting roads that carve through the vineyard-patched hills, and reflect the curve of its ocean shores. The entire square was filled with tidy rows of local winemakers. It was there I learned that rosé wine was brought to this region by the Greeks shortly after they themselves first made the wine in 600 BC. Wine is a product of its soil, the age of the vines, the methods in which the land has been cultivated, and how the berries are harvested and processed. Here in this region, wine is more than an industry, it’s the history and tradition. It’s a culture and community. It connects history to the land, the land to the people, and the people with each other and the rest of the world who enjoy wine from this region.

Rosé is best poured generously and frequently. For 6 euros, one can have as many samples of rosé they can drink during the festival. To make up for lost time, I sipped my way from vendor to vendor with speed and efficiency. Merci beaucoup, gulp, merci beaucoup, gulp, gulp. Quickly my hunger was replaced by tipsiness, and once the festival ended, I stumbled my way to the beach. There I poured myself onto a beach chair belonging to a resort I did not belong to, but they didn’t seem to mind. I sat there for a moment, spinning from the wine and series of events that lead me to this beautiful spot on the beach. Cassis wasn’t even in my itinerary but rather recommended to me by a fellow traveler. Backpacking Europe wasn't in my life's itinerary either until I was given the time after being laid off, and the severance check to pay for such a trip. Yet here I was, wine drunk and blissed out in Southern France.

Rosé is best served slightly chilled, preferably cooled by the blue Mediterranean waters off the Calanque de Port Pin. Simply wrap the wine bottle in a bag, or towel, or shirt if you can’t find anything else. You just need something to protect the glass bottle from the rocky shoreline. Submerge and secure your wine swaddle into the lapping water, and let it rest there while you take off all your clothes and float naked in the sea, feeling grateful to be alive and here in this moment. Upon returning to shore, slice some fresh cheese, fruit, and baguette you brought with you and fetch your wine. You’ll be pleased to find that the sea took care of your comfort, and brought your wine to the perfect temperature for a hot summer afternoon. I cannot take credit for this cooling technique. I learned about it from Hemmingway who was many things, including an excellent drinker.

Rosé can lead to love. For me, everything about Cassis was seen through rosé-tinted glasses. Every sunset was a wild splash of blush and tangerine tones, and I submerged myself in its pink aura of rest and joy. I fell in love with the wine, the land, the ocean, the people, and the village. I fell in love with the person I was at that moment, laying naked under the sun with the cold waters chilling my skin, stripped away from a career title, my cares, and stresses, and my insecurities. I was completely and simply and fully myself in that moment, and didn’t need to be anyone else or anywhere else.

It was a perfect three days. This is the place I definitely want to return to. - Journal entry

Meryl Montgomery in Cassis, France - May 19th, 2015