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Hey fellow lushes. The Wino really hates to bitch about the weather, but COME ON! Can somebody please crank up the heat? No? Not gonna

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Screw the Weather, Let's Suck on These Summer Pinks

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Hey fellow lushes. The Wino really hates to bitch about the weather, but COME ON! Can somebody please crank up the heat? No? Not gonna happen anytime soon? Screw it, I'm going to bundle up in my down parka and pour a tumbler of Rosé.

When the calendar flips over to June and The Weekly's Summer Guide comes out, I get a powerful thirst for wine that looks like the raspberry Kool-Aid you used to peddle on street corners. Don't be fooled, though. Most rosé is not sticky sweet. It falls in that beautiful juicy-tart netherworld where crisp apples and ripe raspberries and unicorns live. OK, scratch the unicorns.

All pinks worth a damn are made with red wine grapes, the shade-giving skins strained off before the stuff goes full-on rouge. Some producers cheat and mix some red with a bunch of white and they call that blush. It was all the rage in the 1970s.

So, when you're browsing in the pink section of your supermarket, pick up those bottles and read the labels. Mentions of Sangiovese, Cabernet franc and Merlot are encouraging. Then again, sometimes the minimalist approach speaks volumes.

That's the way the Met Market Rosé rolls. Not a whole lot of info on the bottle, but a huge explosion of yum in your mouth. And it sure doesn't hurt that it's on sale for $8.

I'm also nuts about Chinook's Cab Franc rosé, its spunky character makes it a little like Coca-Cola back when they ran those ads that things go better with Coke. And by that, I mean this wine's a natural with all sorts of summer fare: ribs, grilled chicken, delicately poached salmon, a big bowl of steaming hot chili. Ba-da-BEANS.

Cedargreen Cellars puts out a pink that even has a pretty name, Viola. It's a combo of Cab Franc and Merlot and it might be my very favorite because it's got a twist top. Which just seems to say: I'm gorgeous and refreshing and open me quick like because I am so freaking delicious.

Had high hopes for a bottle of pink from Provence I picked up at Whole Foods this week, but oh me head. Better off sticking with old friends: Barnard Griffin's Rosé of Sangiovese, Syncline Rosé and, if someone on an expense account's paying, the lovely stuff from DeLille.

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