Rosé winemakers up in arms over ‘revolting’ Brussels directive

IT'S ENOUGH to boil the blood of an honest vigneron. From the chalky slopes of Anjou to the sun-drenched fields of the Var, they talk of little else. It's a disaster, they say, but what else can you expect from those interfering "cons de Bruxelles"?

What is it that makes French wine-growers reach for the pruning shears at the mention of the EU's hard-working staff? Why the growing spirit of resistance in the country's rural heartland three months ahead of elections to the European parliament?

The answer is a draft directive that for purists is about as sacrilegious as giving a Michelin star to McDonald's. They fear that if it goes though next month, then the years of tradition that have gone into the development of rosé wine will count for nothing.

Instead of the delicate process of maceration leading to that youthful pink blush and the taste of fresh flowers, manufacturers across Europe will be allowed a rather more basic recipe: take one bottle of red wine and one bottle of white. Mix.

A few weeks ago, the European Commission took a provisional decision to allow the so-called coupage or blending method to make rosé wine. This means quite simply swilling together quantities of rouge and blanc so that they make the appropriate pink.

According to a commission spokesman, the aim is to allow European producers to compete with growers around the world who do not hesitate to use coupage. It will also help break into markets like China, where they are not especially worried about methodology.

Until now the blending process has been banned in Europe, except, ironically, in the making of high-quality pink champagne. In Spain red and white are mixed to produce what is known as mezcla, but this cannot go by the name of rosé.

Instead, producers in the main French regions - Provence, the Rhône valley and the Loire - maintain the time-honoured rosé method. They use red-wine grapes like Syrah and Grenache, but allow only a limited period of contact with skins and seeds, resulting in a light, low-tannin product.

What has French producers spitting with rage is the effort they have expended in recent years to transform the image of rosé from low-grade supermarket plonk to a drink now taken seriously by experts all over the world.

Rosé's share of sales in France have shot up from 8% to 22% in recent years, and it now outsells white. Around the world it accounts for 10% of wine consumption, and the appetite is growing. France is the biggest producer, with some six million hectolitres of rosé a year, followed by Italy and Spain.

The transformation in rosé's fortunes has been the result of clever marketing, changing habits and improved technology. Increasingly consumers see the drink as a refreshing aperitif or an accompaninent to lighter, international cuisine.

At the same time new techniques in the fermentation process have eliminated problems of heat control, which meant that many of the wine's subtler aromas were lost. The result is that a good rosé can now hold its own against more complex reds and whites.

"Here we don't tinker about mixing reds and whites. We use the skins to seek out the colour and the aromas. The maceration can take hours or just minutes. It's the noble way to make rosé," according to Philippe Pouchin, who runs a vineyard near Aix-en-Provence.

What he and rosé makers across France fear is that the work they have put in will now be thrown away if the market is overwhelmed by cheaper red-white blends.

"These last years we've striven so hard to get the message out that rosé is not cheap rubbish, but a wine in its own right and the result of years of savoir-faire. If they put all these blended wines on the market, it's just going to confuse people," said Christian Paly, a winegrower from the Côtes du Rhône region.

After initially signing up to the directive, the French government has belatedly realised its explosive potential and is pushing for a change. The commission has proposed a compromise under which there will be two labels: rosé traditionnel and rosé par coupage.

The idea is that this would permit French producers to maintain their distinctiveness and market their better-quality wine without risk of confusion. But few are convinced. Most feel that if the shops are flooded with cheaper blended rosé - whatever it's called -then the image of the true rosés will suffer.

For government minister Hubert Falco, who is also mayor of the Provençal city of Toulon, the European initiative is "revolting".

He said: "I am profoundly distressed by these technicians in Brussels. Our wine is going to end up like Coca-Cola."