It’s well-documented that I’m a wine guy through and through. If I’m unwinding after a day of sales calls? Give me a glass of cab. Sitting on the patio at my parents’ house? Again, cab or bust. And you better believe that if there’s any sort of red meat on the grill that I’m opening a bottle of William Hill North Coast (gotta ball on a budget) Cabernet Sauvignon before anything else happens. In fact, I’m having a glass right now. And guess what else? I’m probably not stopping at one.
But let’s be real. We’re getting into the dog days of summer. It’s not exactly practical to sit outside on a Saturday afternoon and sip on a glass of red that’s designated for literally anything but summer weather. So, I drink beer. Domestic, craft, non-alcoholic, I really don’t care. Nothing beats a sixer of cold ones on the golf course or by the pool. The greatest day in our country’s history is this weekend, and I was anticipating celebrating it the way God and our forefathers and Stone Cold Steve Austin intended: by consuming an amount of average domestic beer that would make Tim Riggins blush. That was until I discovered rosé.
I’ll be honest, I never gave rosé the time of day. I judged the book by its cover. I put the cart before the horse. If anyone has any other metaphors that represent misjudging without the proper information, it applies, too. Because, here’s the thing: rosé is good. It’s really REALLY good. And damn, it’s refreshing. It was 162 degrees in St. Louis this weekend (give or take) and I walked into my favorite wine bar. I asked the bartender for a recommendation because a glass of cab didn’t seem like it was going to pair well with my sweat stains. And yep, he suggested a glass of rosé. My life hasn’t been the same since.
You know that feeling that you get after you’ve had the amount of beers that you’re planning on drinking for the Fourth of July? The feeling where you aren’t sure if you’re ever going to eat food ever again? Well, guess what- YOU DON’T GET THAT FEELING WHEN YOU’VE HAD COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF ROSÉ! Not even a little bit! It’s the best! I ordered a Yeti tumbler, something I swore I would never do (I can’t be all mainstream all the time), just so my rosé stays extra cold and extra refreshing when I’m crushing it in the pool this weekend.
It really doesn’t matter to me what your drink is choice is during the summer or on the Fourth of July or while you’re watching The Bachelorette. But, I’m just gonna say that if you’re kind of tired of the lukewarm Bud Light cans or if you’re unable to handle your dad’s vodka cranberries that mostly just use the cranberry juice for the color, give the rosé a shot. You may feel a little like I did in my first college math class during the first few drinks, but you’ll get the hang of it. And then you won’t want to stop drinking it. But please keep in mind that you’ll have to stop drinking it eventually because you probably have a job that doesn’t allow you to consume delicious pink wine while you’re on the clock. And I’m definitely not liable if you decide to do it anyways..