Wined Up: Pink Poodle worth fetching when it's time for Southwestern ceviche and the underrated World Party

    1 of 1 2 of 1

      We lovingly decant wines from the West Coast to Western Samoa and beyond, and then give you a highly opinionated, pocket-sized review.

      Splash down

      Pink Poodle Crisp Rosé

      Their words

      “Refreshingly bold. Turns heads. But enough about you. Let us tell you about this rosé. Pink Poodle is refreshing, crisp, and fruity. Get ready for a new breed of rosé.”

      Suggested perfect pairings

      This being summer and all, the last thing anyone wants at a barbecue is a double-XL size bowl of ski-season chili or a Guinness-spiked Irish stew with extra potatoes. Pink Poodle proudly bills itself as being light and refreshing, so cue up World Party’s wildly underrated Bang! (and its killer track “Is It Like Today?”), and then start leafing through the recipe books for bright and unfussy hot-weather go-tos. Like Bobby Flay’s Southwestern ceviche with diced mango, orange, and grapefruit segments. Spanish gazpacho soup with roasted red pepper, toasted cumin, and fresh basil leaves. Or Caribbean green banana salad with an extra splash or three of fresh lemon.

      Duly noted

      Some of the greatest things ever in pop culture are pink, the short list starting with Pretty in Pink by John Hughes, Pink Flamingos by the great John Waters, and the one-woman hurricane known as P!nk. The name Pink Poodle serves as a tip off that you’re not expected to stick your nose in a glass and inhale for two or three minutes, and then make detailed tasting notes for your next wine club meeting. Clocking in at an exceedingly budget-friendly $9.99, Pink Poodle is indeed crisp and dry, smelling of summer strawberries with notes of lemons and grapefruit front and centre. Want something more complex? Nothing’s stopping you from dropping a hundred bucks on a bottle of Château d’Esclans Garrus. But there’s no denying you’d feel a little guilty about drinking it poolside out of a plastic glass. Or cracking open a bottle or two and using it for summer sangria. Not so with Pink Poodle. Now where’s the ceviche? 

      Comments