Elizabeth Gabay, Rosé: Understanding the Pink Wine Revolution (Infinite Ideas/Classic Wine Library, 2018). Reviewed by Sue Veseth.
Once upon a time, “proper” rosé was French, very pale pink, dry, served young and fresh, and not serious. Today, rosé is serious. Consumers can find rosé from all over world; from the palest pink to almost red in color; made from grape varieties that may be familiar or unfamiliar; made in a variety of styles and sweetness levels; and that range from simple to complex. How is a wine drinker supposed to navigate the world of rosé?
A good start is Rosé: Understanding the pink wine revolution by Elizabeth Gabay, MW. This comprehensive study of rosé will open your eyes — and your palate — to the infinite variety and pleasure of rosé. Her book covers the liberal arts of rosé: history, geography, science, political science, economics, art, and literature.
It is impossible in the wine business these days to dismiss rosé, as Gabay makes clear in the chapter of her book on the business of rosé. In the United States, rosé is the fastest growing category and is now a year-round option, not just a summer wine. And, like it or not, what happens in the U.S. wine market can affect wine production worldwide.
The issue of color permeates the book because of the traditional notion that paler is better. And, after all, the name “rosé” is all about color. Gabay’s explorations demonstrate that color does not indicate quality, but style. She goes as far to say, “I am no longer so sure that our division of wine into red, white and pink is appropriate. With some rosé wines almost red in colour and style, and others almost white, the divisions are blurred. Add in rosé made in an orange wine style, and the blurring increases. The obsession with the colour pink should perhaps start to take a back seat.”
Gabay describes her book as a journey of exploration, and she transmits this journey for both the serious wine student and the casual consumer. An early chapter on viticulture and winemaking, for example, has a lot of detail for the science-minded and is also accessible to the more casual reader. Similarly, her discussions of rosé from various parts of the world are presented in detail, with specific examples from the region. More maps would be helpful for the novice rosé drinker.
Rosé: Understanding the pink wine revolution is a valuable addition to the library of any wine lover who is ready for a journey of exploration.
Rebecca Gibb, The Wines of New Zealand (Infinite Ideas/Classic Wine Library, 2018). Reviewed by Mike Veseth.
Rebecca Gibb’s The Wines of New Zealand is “designed to provide a comprehensive overview of the New Zealand wine scene,” according to its author, “a reference for locals, international visitors and students alike.” Gibb gets it right on all counts — what a great resource for anyone who wants to learn about New Zealand and its wine industry.
The book’s 300+ pages are packed full of stories, personalities, facts, and figures. The organization is conventional: history, climate and grapes first, then a survey of the regions (10 of them, which will come as a surprise to those who only know Marlborough and its Sauvignon Blanc), then a final pair of chapters on tourism and current issues.
Gibb’s mastery of this material is easy to appreciate, but it is her contagious enthusiasm that comes through most clearly. A chapter on grape varieties could easily become mundane but not here. Each grape is an excuse to talk about history, geography, vine science, and to introduce or reprise some of the noteworthy characters who shaped Kiwi wine history.
What do I like best about this book? The sense of energy and dynamism that permeates it in both style and content. The story of New Zealand wine is a story of change, starting from the early British and French pioneers through the Dalmatian gum-diggers and on to today’s multinational corporations. Gibb sees dynamism everywhere in New Zealand wine and she doesn’t think this is likely to change.
What would I change about The Wines of New Zealand? Well, the beginning of the book, a fantastic historical overview, is so strong that it makes the end feel a bit weak. Gibb’s final chapter does a great job informing the reader about Kiwi tourism opportunities — both wine and otherwise. But it doesn’t bring the book together the way I would like.
What I’d really like to see — and maybe it will appear in the next edition? — is a chapter that draws together the many strands and looks ahead to where New Zealand wine is headed and what might stop it from getting there. That would end the book on the same dynamic note I enjoyed throughout.
It would also make it a bit less of a reference book, which is its intended function. Maybe the best solution is to DIY — read this excellent book and then make up your mind where you think New Zealand wine is headed next! Highly recommended.