Domaine de l'Horizon - Rosé 2018
We're drinking a bottle of 2018 Rosé from Domaine de l'Horizon in the south of France.
A bottle of exposure therapy. Because not so long ago, the plan had actually been to write about the Blanc. But the bottle of Blanc had other plans, oxidizing, for instance. Objectively, it makes zero sense to draw conclusions about one bottle from the other. If only because one wine is white and the other is rosé-colored. And that even the same wine, in two bottles that lay side by side, can re-emerge completely differently, that much we’ve known since last week at the latest. And yet the ruined white wine managed to stake out a cozy little spot for itself in my subconscious. So the more often I looked at the bottle of Rosé, the more I wondered whether it, too, might be done for. And we all know there’s only one way to find out.
As for the wine itself, not much has changed since the last bottle. It is, after all, only a year younger. Single-varietal Grenache, very old vines from the south of France around Calce, organic farming, spontaneous fermentation, aged in used oak. Only time, time it had more of in the bottle. And I assume that in the south of France, too, 2018 was considerably warmer than 2017. At the estate, which was founded by Thomas Teibert and the Christ family, something is stirring, though. Thomas Teibert is being drawn onward to new projects, and so Emmanuelle Maltas is now the one responsible for the wines. This bottle here today, of course, knows nothing of that yet.
Lately, especially when the thermometer climbs back above 35°C, we’ve been fond of non-alcoholic bitter alternatives in tonic. And at first, the wine smells exactly like that. Without the tonic, though that doesn’t smell particularly strong anyway. Then peach joins in, a bit of butter caramel, no, let me correct that, a whole handful of butter caramel. Fudge. The good, sadly rather pricey, crumbly fudge from the island that I always sneak into the shopping cart whenever my drinking companion orders chocolate yet again. I like that very much. And behind it there’s now a touch of sherry as well. There’s spice on the palate, raspberries, and a very soft, fruity acidity. Only at the very back of the tongue does the sherry surface here too, quietly telling you it was perhaps just as well not to have waited much longer with this bottle. But every little sip pushes those notes right back again. On the shelf behind me stands a bottle of Marie-Framboise, cognac with raspberries, and it’s a little reminiscent of that as well. And as I read back through my notes from the 2017 vintage while writing this, the underlying signature really is the same.
The next evening brings more fruit. Plenty of peach liqueur, fruit yogurt with a splash of sherry drizzled over it. Only on the nose, though, because on the palate the oxidative note has vanished entirely. It’s creamy, here too with peach and berries, juiciness and length. It’s lovely, on this second evening as well. Perhaps not quite where advance praise and hidden-gem status online place it here and there. But it’s a lovely Rosé, no question. And I think we caught a good moment for the 2018, too.