There is orange wine, there is rosé.

Pigment, extraction and other reasons these wines resemble a sunset.

When Memorial Day rolls around, we squeal as we finally break out our white jeans. Glasses of rosé flow with wild and reckless abandon. The sunglasses on display at the beaches and sidewalk cafes? Spectacular. Get your fill in now, it’ll all be taboo again come Labor Day.

Except….

That’s corny longtime “ha-ha funny” marketing commentary, not actual truth.

White denim is great in the winter; mine ends up covered in grass stains in the summer.

Pink wine feels more abundantly available when temperatures warm - merchandising, merchandising! (Not the last Spaceballs reference today.) Many shops and restaurants do offer rosé year-round, FYI. It’s just much less prominently in your face.

Speaking of seasons, does anyone ever stop drinking orange wine? It now feels like the omnipresent third category alongside red and white. Rosé is “seasonal,” sparkling has spikes throughout the year, orange wine is for anytime.

Anyway. A frequent question.

What’s the difference between rosé and orange wine?

Let’s discuss in varying lengths. Choose your own (length of) explanation adventure!

The explanation.

Most vinifera wine grapes, red and white, have clear juice inside. With red wine, the grapes are crushed to release the clear juice inside. That liquid then sits with the crushed grape skins, which contain pigment aka why we specify “red grapes,” extracting color. The longer they sit, and the thicker the skins, the darker the color potential.

For rosé, you’ll also mostly start with red grapes. Those get crushed, same as the red wine. The clear juice also spends time with the skins, but a much shorter time. Way less time. Maybe a few hours, maybe a few days. For the red wine, we’re usually looking at days, or commonly weeks.

To make an orange wine, it’s same same on getting started, but with white skinned grapes. Crush the grapes, let clear juice sit with the smashed skins (+ seeds, + stems maybe) and lo and behold, an orange hue begins to appear. The white grape skins have less pigment to extract, but they still have pigment that deeps with time and oxygen. The wine looks more like a desert sun. The length of time is, again, variable. The color potential, similarly, again, depends on skin density, seed size, and the lot.

The same explanation, more succinctly.

Most* wine grapes have clear juice inside, and either red or white skins. [Exceptions.]

Rosé is made by directly pressing out the clear juice from red grapes, then letting it briefly hang out with the skins to extract color.

For orange wine, press the also-clear juice out of white grapes, then similarly let that juice hang with the crushed skins. Color and texture will ensue, the winemaker controls the time under tension.

Okay, here we go. The short, SHORT version:

Red grapes = red wine, long time.

Red grapes = pink wine, less time.

White grapes = white wine, variable time.

White grapes + skin contact = orange wine, at least some time.

“Good! You’re married! Kiss her!”

Reliably, those new to orange wines always ask…

Is orange wine made from oranges?

No, orange wine is not made from oranges. It’s white wine that is made like red wine.

Look at the back label – does it say orange in the fine print, or does it say white? Exactly.

Of course, there’s always an exception to every standard piece of information. Today I learned that some people DO make wine from oranges…because why not. Please hold while I add this to my to-do list. You know, for research.

Other words you’ll see in this pink/orange lexicon:

Saignée: a French term meaning “to bleed off.” Not a horror movie murder scene, it’s simply separating some of the juice very early in a red wine fermentation to stay rosé instead. Doesn’t apply to orange wine; comments are open if you’d like to tell me I’m wrong.

Co-ferment: a mixed fermentation of red and white grapes together. Like tie dye, you can hope for one color but may get another. That’s nature, baby!

Blended: add a little red juice to white wine. Boom, it’s pink. Or maybe kind of orange?

Food coloring. You won’t see this on a label, but it happens. Legally

Ramato: Pinot Grigio (Gris) grapes are white, but have pigmented skins. If you ferment the juice with those pinkish-gray skins pictured above, you get a generally pinkish wine, but its “technically” skin contact white wine…so orange? Rosange? This is a mouthful to explain, and you need the prior information for context anyway. Ramato, tomato, let’s call the whole thing off.

Hey! Before you go…

I have questions, can we chat?

Why are so many of you comfortable paying a higher price tag for a skin contact or orange wine, but balk at doing so for rosé?

If you’ve enjoyed Gulp Hablo Orange, do you just plan to rebuy that forever, or are we ready to branch out?

Why do so few of you believe me about the perfection of drinking rosé in the winter?

Not a question, but I have daydreamed for years about doing a rosé picnic on a beach in the dead of winter, if any of you would be into that. Great reason to open bourgeois bottles, please and thanks :)