How does the $100/bottle d’Estoublon 1489 rosé taste? Does it even matter?

Premium French rosé is so weird. Even in the French Riviera towns, pink wine is the drink of choice. The lager of southern France. The supermarket aisles are full of these simple, cheap, deliberately light, pale (sometimes completely flavourless) wines made for easy enjoyment. Smashability first, contemplation rarely.

But then there is this other tier, where rosé is a fashion object/aspirational product. Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt fought over who could keep the Provence estate Chateau Miraval for years (because everyone wants a Provence estate). Chateau d’Escalan’s rosé range seems to get a new, more expensive option every few years (now up to the $AUD270 Garrus), and Gérard Bertrand’s Clos du Temple now makes a €219 wine.

Of course, I’m missing a different French rosé quality level – one full of charismatic natural wines, light red/rosé mashups of intrigue, classic Bandol in all its phenolic glory, etc. But often, the most expensive Provence wines aren’t that – these are delicate, refined, fancy wines in fancy bottles (to make you feel fancy).

The problem is that the differences between good pale, light and textural rosé and sublime pale, light and textural rosé are small. Terroir tends to take a back seat in the wines (which narrows the field), and the quest for delicacy makes winemaking decisions more important than terroir anyway. Blind Provence rosé lineups are almost as hard to judge as young Semillon (with less green apple) as you find yourself trying to pick out small textural/balance/length differences in very lean wines…

Unlike Semillon, there’s not the intensity levels to help justify/choose a $100 wine over a $30 wine either.

This brings us, in a roundabout way, to my look at the d’Estoublon Roseblood 1489 Rosé 2023. Chateau d’Estoublon is a 300-hectare estate that dates back to 1489 (hence the name). Also known as the Estoublon castle (and gloriously pitched online as an ‘Icon of the Provencal Art of Living’), this property is like a stunning Provence postcard, complete with manicured gardens and five-star accommodation. The fine wine story here doesn’t feel quite as important, though – part of the narrative rather than the main game. What’s more entertaining is who owns the estate, which currently includes a French hotelier, the Prats family (ex-Cos d’Estournel), singer Carla Bruni and her husband, ex-French President Nicolas Sarkozy.

What was I saying about rosé and celebrities?

The d’Estoublon Roseblood 1489 Rosé (RRP $AUD100) was first added to the range in 2020, and it’s the flagship—the top dog. Interestingly, I put the Roseblood Rosé 2023 alongside it (RRP $40) and aside from the wax cap, the packaging doesn’t scream ultra premium rosé. Nor, for that matter, does the fruit and winemaking fit differently to the Provence norms, with this sourced from fifty-year-old vines, a blend of 80% Grenache and 20% Syrah, handpicked and matured in tank and barrel (FWIW, making rosé like this is tricky and interesting. Jamie Goode detailed the typical process nicely here, although he didn’t dive into the heavy-duty filtering that is par for the Provence rosé course).

What’s interesting is that Roseblood 1489 is cleverly done. It’s ripe – 14% alcohol ripe. And there is actual fruit here, with this leesy, unripe strawberry and creamy citrus fruit profile and a low-acid, generous palate. Wearing my winemaking hat, this is very smartly done, if very safe—not a hair out of place.

With the bottle in front of me, I started to think about expectations. For someone spending $100 on a Provence rosé, what are they looking for in terms of how the wine tastes? A safe, clean, fresh, ripe-but-crisp wine is probably perfect, and my whole review is irrelevant.

Indeed, it begs the question—how important is how a wine tastes when this is more of a fashion/style statement than a purely high-quality wine? It’s easy for me to get lost in the minutiae of site expression, winemaking inputs, varietal correctness and all that when really, so many wines are just about looking good and tasting ok.

But wearing my critic hat again, I can’t justify spending $100 on this rosé. It’s just not that interesting. Let’s call it a 92-point wine, maybe 93 for winemaking expertise, but I’m not buying it.

Looking at the standard wine (d’Estoublon Roseblood Rosé 2023) and most everyone would be just fine drinking that. It also lobs up as cleverly made too – all pink grapefruit, bitter orange, and a little leafiness in a very traditional Provence mode. It’s not quite as delicate, ripe and refined (and the late leafy edge is a bit distracting for me to empty a bottle), but again, it looks almost identical in the bottle, and 99.9% of drinkers would not appreciate the difference for $40.

What would you buy?