Carménère, Pressed Pink
“Is there a better rosé to make for a Carménère house than a Rosé of Carménère? It’s a completely new wine too, no one else is making it, we’re geniuses!” We said, and then we all high fived. As you might be able to guess this was not how the Rosé of Carménère came to fruition.
The First No
"In 2013 I was approached by a grower asking if I wanted Carménère. Unfortunately, he called right in the middle of harvest."
Harvest: Time to make wine. Nothing else matters. The grapes come in and the whole year’s livelihood is determined in a few short months.
"The grapes were almost ripe and he was looking for a buyer. I told him "no thanks"...
Resisting Carménère, how brave!
The Second Call
“About a week later he called again and said he still didn't have a buyer and wanted me to make wine with the Carménère. Well, I didn't have any extra barrels or room in the cellar. However, I didn't have a rosé in my lineup that year, so I decided to make one with the Carménère grapes and see what happened. To my surprise, the resulting wine was amazing!"
Seven Vintages
Even though we hadn’t set out to make this wine, we brought it back again and again. 2013-2019 we made this rosé, and then we stopped. This was an intentional choice, the Carménère was always meant for our red program. When another opportunity with Carménère came, we knew exactly what to do with it. Not just as an experiment this time but as a project we already understood.
Nothing Stands in Your Way
This origin story made us think about the role constraint played. Not despite the constraints, but because of them.
Winemaking is already one of the most constrained crafts there is. The grapes ripen when they ripen. The cellar holds what it holds. Everyone answers to father time. Every decision a winemaker makes happens inside those walls, and the quality of the wine is often less about what you add and more about how well you work with what you have.
Before There Was Space
In 2013, Bart had no barrels, no cellar space, and a grower on the phone during the most chaotic weeks of the year. The easy answer really, was no. He said it once. The second time, the constraint became a solution. No space for red wine meant one option: press it pink.
That's the thing about a hard limit. It removes the noise. You stop asking what you can’t do and start asking what you can do. The Rosé of Carménère was born from a necessity, not a portfolio gap or a market opportunity.
The True Carmenere House
Locking in that fruit before there was even a barrel to put it in was also the first real act of commitment to Carménère as a house. Carménère was hard to find at the time. Saying no meant it went somewhere else, into less loving hands. So even inside all that constraint there was still a choice: let it go, or find a way. Seven vintages followed.
And then you actually have to make the wine.
A Narrow Window
Making rosé with Carménère subjects your decisions as a winemaker to a really narrow window. Because of the grape's natural components, picking too early can result in no color. Picking too late can result in no acid, an essential component of wine and an important indicator of whether a wine will be good with food. There’s a risk and a precision every step of the way.
So why go through all this trouble? There really is no expectation of what a rosé of Carménère will taste like:
“No one thinks a rosé with this grape will taste good until it does”.
A New Taste
Part of this surprising flavor is achieved by taking a bold step with Carménère: removing the herbaceous and savory notes. Maybe a cardinal sin, maybe just what is needed. Whole cluster pressed with no skin contact, a characteristic of what makes Carménère is removed, and yet it still tastes like Carménère.
Seven vintages taught us that. The 2025 Rosé of Carménère is the bet we’re making again.
