Jas d'Esclans Rosé

The Wine... It is that perfect pale pink color that makes rosé fiends salivate. The flavors are pretty, too, ripe strawberry and orange rind. The name Jas d' Esclans refers to the history of this land. Shepherds used the fields of this domaine, close to the Esclans river, to pasture their flock. The label has a (not very fearsome, stylized) wolf on it. I'd love to try this sunny, slightly citrus-scented rose with a sheep's milk cheese. Or Goat Lady Dairy chevre. Ideally I'd serve it on a picnic in the mountainous back country of Provence, one of the most arresting landscapes I've ever traveled through, but hey, here in Orange County is fine, too.  

The Estate... I want to emphasize the fact that our rosés are both affordable and organic: that dining healthfully can be reasonably a good value and that we think the wines taste better because of the farming. Jas d'Esclans in the Cotes de Provence is an ideal partner for 3CUPS. It is in the Var, nestled between the Maure massif and the Rouet hills in the eastern section of the this region, less than 20 km from the Mediterranean. This is the back country of Provence, a dry, warm land that Matthieu de Wulf came to after beginning his winemaking life in France's far southwest. He wanted great vines, but what he ended up with was extraordinary, a farm obviously worthy of buying even to a man selective enough to have visited over 70 other estates around France before laying his money down. Along with exceptional terroir and a capable cellar team (cellar master Robert and his brother Yves were born on the estate) that de Wulf was able to keep intact to ensure fidelity to the traditions of this domaine, real value here comes from the fact that Jas d'Esclans had always adhered to traditional, natural farming methods. When the new owner applied for Ecocert approval in 1992 to label his wines as organic, the agency took soil samples and voila granted certification straight away. This rarely happens. De Wulf had bought a property where chemicals were never used, or used so minimally as to be undetectable in the ground.   

The Family... When I was in France earlier this year I met with Matthieu de Wulf's wife Gwenaelle. Matthieu is a giant, easily the tallest man in the room, no matter how big or full the room is. I imagine him tossing a barrel over one shoulder and hauling it across the cellar, or ripping up unproductive grapevines with his bare hands. Gwenaelle appears proper, a snappy dresser whose personality shows through in a cheeky smile. Tasting and negotiating with her was a pleasure. The estate's whole line-up showed dedication, consistent quality, moments of brilliance. Our British tasting assistant and wine consultant Cedric had tipped us off that these were the people to meet in the Var: it turns out his idle days on holiday hadn't been wasted. Leave it to Ced to sniff out the best rosé to consume at a summer residence. Incidentally, about half of the estate's annual output is sold to locals and sundry seasonal residents.  I purchased the highlights of Gwenaelle's spirited tasting (which were frequently not the most expensive bottlings her family produces) and headed for home sure that my moments of faux Provencal dining would be better this year.