by connoisseur of nothing
Does Rosé suck? Yes. Tbh, I don’t even think it looks great on Insta. Pink wine is a thing of the past. Or at least a thing of the summer, and even then, it’s only acceptable if you’re on an actual boat. A new trend has taken its place and is on track to become the “thing” of 2019. Considering it’s basically 2020, you’re way behind if you don’t already know what I’m referring to.
We have the details here to make you sound super knowledgeable about the latest hipster classic that is clearly better than everything else: orange wine. You may be reading this thinking you’re too late to the game, but never fear, skin touch wine (yes, that’s what it’s actually called) has only seemed to hit trendy Euro-inspired restaurants in Brooklyn thus far. You have some time before embarrassing yourself if you still can’t have an esoteric conversation about it.
First, some good news: The creepy phrase “skin contact” is referring to grape skin. Wine is typically either red or white based on the grapes but also the skin on said grapes. The orangeness is a result of the skin being left on “white wine” grapes to give a coral tinge during fermentation. In other words, it’s a byproduct of white-winemaking. But, like way more rare and hip.
I recently attended a dinner at a trés bougie French restaurant in Greenpoint called Chez Ma Tante. The weather was unseasonably warm. The menu reflected the weather while still holding true to its origins (fish with a lot of butter). White wine felt too light for the season, while red felt too heavy for the temperature and fixings. Luckily we had the option of skin-contact wine. The waitress was accommodating enough to allow us to taste a couple of the varietals. At the end of the day, the food was some of the best you can get in Greenpoint, and the orange wine paired perfectly.
According to our server, whom I am prone to believe, orange wine is born of some of the oldest tricks in the book. Winos have been mixing things up for thousands of years with this technique. Apparently, the skins being left in the white wine creates a more “tannic” result. If you’re the person asking for “a dry wine” that is not by any means “sweet”, this will still be right up your alley.
I’m a big believer that color makes a difference in flavor. I’ve done the test where someone gives me two M&Ms and asks me to tell the difference. While blindfolded this is challenging, there’s a reason top celebs ask for only a certain color in their pick and mix. It’s impossible to de-couple color from flavor at this point in our saturated lives. Orange wine is a perfect blend and isn’t a basic, sugary, migraine-inducing toxin like rosé. And when I say blend, I don’t just mean flavor. I am also referring to the delicate social balance it represents between being chic and still relatively unknown enough to seem like a know-it-all brat when you order it outside of hipster Brooklyn. We are stans.