A spring trip to southern France is not complete without a visit to the holy grail of rosé, Tavel. I love rosé and use every day as an excuse to refresh my palate. It truly screams the south of France, the heat, the Mistral. For me a crisp rosé makes every meal seem like a vacation. Certainly one of the finest that is exported is Trinquevedel and I made that my first and only winery stop. The following week was mostly a vacation with family and a case of rosé was the perfect culinary contribution.
The town was cute, small, and set on a slight hill mandating lots of twists and turns. There were a number of very cute ceramic spouts around town and I was hoping that around noon they would gush with pink grape juice. When that did not materialize I sat down for a tasty lunch of omlette forestière and the best frites I can ever remember. They were cut in a different way which somehow left more area for “crispy”. And naturally this was washed down with the local quaff.
The vineyards along the Route du Vin are expansive with rocky soils of calcaire.
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