Ah, how lovely! The sun’s out and the birds are tweeting. My boys’ wretched A-levels and GCSEs are finally over and, bless them, the chaps remembered Father’s Day unprompted for once. I’ve got my Ashes/World Cup cricket and Glyndebourne tickets and, well, everything seems to be coming up rosé.
And, goodness me, don’t we Brits get through a lot of the pink stuff? Sales show no sign of doing anything other than rocketing. Indeed, I understand that pink wine is still the fastest growing wine category of all. Of course, here in my home town of Brighton, we’ve been out and proud about our fondness for anything pink for yonks and knock back more than our fair share.
Yes, I know, one occasionally gets caught unawares in the pub or at a barbecue by a glass of crappy, sickly sweet, glow-in-the-dark muck, but in general the quality of pink wine is higher than ever.
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