Drinking Pink and Drawing Analogies

I found the rose of my dreams and it's $68 a bottle.

On the other hand, I found the rose of my dreams.

For all the pink drinking I've been doing of late, the lure of a Rose Spectacular at Barrel Thief (Patterson and Libbie, mind you, even pink can't get me to Short Pump) was irresistible; $16 for sixteen wines and an array of appetizers to tamp it all down.

Count me in.

The wine reps and the male staff were all in some form of pink (pants, shirts, ties) which was almost as delightful as the wines.

The tablecloths were pink but fortunately not all of the food was.

I enjoyed particularly the curried crab salad on watermelon wedges, the aged Camembert with peach slices, black olive tapenade on crostini and the grilled Atlantic char, but only the watermelon qualified for pink status.

Beginning with the simple and fruity Domaine Guindon Gamay, through the not-so-pink Domaine Brazilier (absolutely loved its white peppery goodness) to the Edmunds St. John Gamay (California's only true Gamay grower) to the Thurston Wolfe Lemberger (my first experience with 80% Lemberger, 20% Grenache) to the Bisson Golfo del Tigullio (actually made as a red wine but that's as dark as the grape gets and a personal favorite), and ending with the unusual 1998 R. Lopez de Heredia Rioja, tasting of nuttiness and incredibly complex, this was definitely an extravaganza of pink wines.

The intriguing trio was the Domaine du Bagnol Cassis, which was incredibly aromatic, followed by the Chateau Pradeaux Bandol (less nose but striking on the palate) and then the star, the Chateau Simone Palette.

Such a wine begged to be discussed with a man in both pink pants (courtesy of his grandfather) and a pink-tie (courtesy of his girlfriend), so said wine rep and I agreed on an analogy between these wines and women of different ages.

The first was a 20-something whose scent was impossible to ignore (pay attention to me!).

The second, a slightly older woman, took a bit more time but rewarded the sipper with much more in the mouth (slightly delayed gratification).

The last, the "elegant older woman" as he dubbed the Chateau Simone Palette, is considered the best rose in the world, with a Grand Cru designation.

That, understandably, was my favorite.

As luck would have it, I'd run into a fellow wine geek and friend who were as enamored of the "elegant older woman" as I was and who had managed to convince the management to offer it by the glass for the afternoon.

Hell, with three of us sharing, there was no reason not to buy a bottle.

So now that I've identified my favorite Rose, I would think it's time to share a bottle of pink with someone who'd enjoy it as much as I do.

Those who prefer the more obvious or accessible need not apply.