Journal of Wine Economics Volume 13 | 2018 | No. 3

Rosé is experiencing an identity crisis. Is it a unique wine defined by color or is it an amalgamation of its better known red and white cousins? The answer to this question largely depends on wine region, wine maker, and grapes used. In her new book, Rosé: Understanding the Pink Wine Revolution, Elizabeth Gabay (MW) provides a thoughtful, comprehensive analysis of rosé’s history and variations around the world. Gabay also delivers an approachable consumer’s guide to various wine regions, style, and selected producers. While this might seem like a lot of ground to cover in a single volume, she has successfully balanced the technical aspects of rosé, including the importance of terroir, with practical knowledge that could assist both experienced and novice wine drinkers choose a rosé as their next bottle of wine.

Gabay begins by focusing on how rosé is a different type of wine, while also high- lighting how it shares many characteristics with other styles. She establishes that for many, rosé is historically linked with clairet—a light red wine designed to be con- sumed sooner, rather than later. This association exists because since at least the mid-1600s, clairet has been described as “rubis orientalis (the red of the setting sun), oeil de perdrix (the pale pin of the eye of a dying partridge) and hyacinth pink, tending toward orange” (p. 6).

In the United States, rosé is often synonymous with white zinfandel. Bob Trinchero, of Sutter Home Winery, is credited (or blamed) with creating the sweet style of white Zinfandel—many American’s first experience with rosé. Mr. Trinchero started pro- ducing a pink wine from Zinfandel grapes in the early 1970s as a way to increase the concentration of his premium red wines. These wines were “tinged with pink” from the bleeding off of some grape juice before fermentation. While not initially sweet, in 1975, “the white Zinfandel experienced ‘stuck fermentation,’ a problem that occurs when the yeast dies before consuming all the sugar” (p. 108). In what turned out to be a happy error, Mr. Trinchero liked this sweet, pink wine better than the pale, pink wine he had been selling. White Zinfandel was born.

While rosé might be historically a subset of other wines (clairet) or a sweet mistake (white Zinfandel), today it has become its own style defined by its color, economics, and marketing. In fact, for many, rosé is distinct from clairet or white Zinfandel, with French rosé, especially light, pale wines from Provence considered be the gold-stan- dard of pink wines and among the few that can be drunk immediately, or aged (pp. 289–290).

More than any other characteristic, color sets rosé apart from red and white wines. A rosé’s color has traditionally varied by wine region and style of grapes used. Overall, color can range from “bluish pink, dark pink red, orange, tawny pink, bright pint to a clear pink” (p. 26). For example, Provence rosé’s are made using “rel- atively light-pigmented varieties” of Grenache, Cinsault, and Tibouren, which produce pale wines that could “technically, be labelled vin gris or blanc de noir,” because of their color (p. 73). These pale wine stand in contrast to darker Bordeaux clairets (p. 92) or wines made in Australia, which are darker pink because of the predominance of Shiraz and Grenache (p. 133).

How a producer chooses to bottle rosé reflects the importance of color. Traditionally, rosé has been packaged in bottles typical to the wine region. In other words, rosé produced in Bordeaux has traditionally been bottled in standard Bordeaux bottles and Burgundy rosé in Burgundy bottles. Provence rosé has been the exception, with the region known “for using innovative bottle shapes … [which] often … make their wines stand out” (p. 291). Gabay further highlights some more unusual bottle shapes, including square bottles and packaging rosé in alternative containers, including cans and boxes (p. 295), as examples of rose producers trying to market their wines.

While bottle shape can be a distinguishing factor, rosé producers also want to highlight the wine’s color. Consumers often buy with their eyes. To encourage pur- chases, producers work to establish a brand and convince potential purchasers to buy their wines over others (Orth and Crouch, 2014). While labels continue to be a popular way to distinguish wines (Lecoq and Visser, 2006), for rosé, the bottle is also essential. As Gabay demonstrates, “most rosé is sold in colourless glass bottles, with the colour of the wine easily visible” (p. 294). Clear bottles, however, are “not good for rosé wine because the UV light breaks down the color and the wines turn brown” (p. 294).

The balance between being able to see the wine and protect it from UV light steers Gabay’s inquiry toward whether rosé can, and should, be aged, instead of drunk as young wine. The results here are mixed, as some producers have been creating more complex rosé’s that are designed to be aged, while others maintain the more tradi- tional style of creating rosé for more immediate consumption. Use of clear bottles certainly favors more immediate consumption, while other bottle colors (e.g., brown, green) can more easily promote aging.

As with many consumable products, and certainly other types of wine, economics plays a significant role with the success (or failure) of rosé wine. More than just the consumer price point, the economics of rosé can allow producers to realize a faster return on investment. In an easy to access and compelling example, Gabay shows how producers might balance the production of red wine and rosé by explaining that it might take several years to get a red wine to market (after it is fermented and aged) and to recoup costs of production, but rosé wines might be harvested in the fall and put on sale the following January, a much shorter time period (p. 300). This is not a part of the wine making cycle that consumers generally con- sider, but is an essential part of wine economics that could determine whether to produce rosé at all, and then in what quantity.

Once a product is produced, it is time to sell it. How to sell pink wine has been a challenge in some markets. Many media outlets have highlighted that rosé wines are the choice of millennials, women, and summer. These types of marketing tools have allowed rosé to expand its footprint and sell in markets that have traditionally been more difficult to access. Focus on these groups, however, has caused rosé to be seen as “girly,” while at the same time, news articles “regularly feel the need to affirm the presence of men as rosé drinkers, as if they—men—need to justify their drinking a pink wine” (p. 283). Labeling a whole class of wine for one gender over another is, of course, not fair, and Gabay rightly calls out this type of marketing, showing instead that rosé is consumed by everyone, all over the world.

In Rosé: Understanding the Pink Wine Revolution, Elizabeth Gabay successfully demonstrates that rosé wine can be made anywhere, from almost any type ofgrapes. Subsequently, different regions have created distinct pink wine styles that are suited to various purposes. France, Spain, the United States, and Australia have tra- ditionally driven the rosé marketplace (p. 306), but other, emerging regions are sure to produce interesting and approachable wines in the future.

Jacob R. Straus
University of Maryland Baltimore County, Shady Grove
jstraus@umbc.edu
doi:10.1017/jwe.2018.44

The authors of this engaging and informative bilingual volume open with the state- ment “[y]ou may think it unlikely that a quality wine can be produced in Japan. … You are however advised to update your world map of wine … Japan has a history of about … 150 years of making wine” (p. 5).

This observation sets the scene for a book which had its origins in a conference at the University of Tokyo in 2011, and is the first serious publication of its type in English. Historically Japan’s wine industry was very small. It dates from the start of the Meiji era in 1868, when the government first encouraged its production. But until recently wine was relatively unimportant in Japanese drinking and cuisine. In fact, wine was considered unsuitable for its cuisine. Moreover, the country’s soils are pre- dominantly volcanic ash. Rainfall is typically heavy during the flowering period, especially in June, while typhoons are common during the maturation month of September. In addition, summers are hot and humid, creating problems with fungal disease. As the authors put it, wine was considered a “classy” drink, reserved for special occasions. All this was based on the widespread view that the Asian monsoon region (not just Japan) would always produce its alcoholic drinks made from starches in rice and other grains.

Things began to slowly change in the 1960s. As Japan became rich and more global, and as international tourism expanded, there was a growing interest in wine. Several pioneering winemakers studied and lived abroad, principally in France and the United States, and they began to experiment with domestic produc- tion. These winemakers began to enter their wines in international shows, and in time received recognition for their efforts.

However, the authors emphasize that the industry is still, in some respects, in its infancy. It may not be widely understood that most wine “produced” in Japan is, in fact, made from imported grape juice or concentrate. These are the major bever- age companies, with factories in Japan’s main port cities. Only about 18–19% of the total is made from grapes grown in Japan. The country will probably always be a net wine importer. About 70% of wine consumed is imported. The country is not, and may never be, a significant wine exporter, and its wines are not commonly found abroad. In addition, Japanese wine consumption is relatively low compared to most high-income countries, just 3.3 litres per adult per year.

Nevertheless, the authors clearly demonstrate that things are on the move. Wine is becoming increasingly popular. In October 2015, the first official labeling regulations were introduced, requiring that only wine produced from locally grown grapes could be termed “Japan Wine.” A system of Geographical Indications (GIs) has been intro- duced, and is gradually spreading across the country. Wine imports were liberalized as far back as 1970, and the foreign competition is forcing the local industry to lift its quality. Accompanying these changes has been the growth of wine tourism and culinary innovation in the major wine areas, especially those renowned for their scenic beauty.

One of the most interesting features of the book is the survey of the major wine producing regions and winemakers, including interviews with the owners of more than 40 wineries. This constitutes six of the seven main chapters. The authors care- fully document the continuous experimentation with grape varieties, regions, sites, horticultural practices, and vinification technologies. Gradually some patterns are clearly emerging. The industry is expanding mainly in the east and north of the country, in the higher altitude regions of the main island of Honshu, and in the northern island of Hokkaido. A variety of European grape varieties that tolerate wet climates have been introduced, with mixed success. Merlot and chardonnay appear to have adapted better than most. But the major success story to date has been the white grape variety known as “koshu.” This is, in fact, an indigenous variety that has existed in Japan for centuries, mainly in the country’s major wine producing region, Yamanashi. This region, which produces about one-third of the country’s grapes, is located in a valley (and, hence, more protected from typhoons), with somewhat less rainfall. In 2013 Yamanashi was the first region to be officially recognized for its GI status. It is also quite close to Tokyo and the country’s famous Mt. Fuji, and, thus, has potential for growing wine tourism.

The industrial organization of the industry is segmented. It consists of five major firms, mainly using imported material and all with a history in the food and beverage industry, alongside about 280 smaller wineries. The latter typically use locally grown grapes, often from their own vineyard. In total, only about 10% of the grapes are grown by the wineries themselves, in part a legacy of earlier land regulations. Although Japanese winemakers have studied abroad, the foreign presence appears to be relatively small, as it is in the Japanese economy in general. There are no major foreign investors in the industry, while the practice of “flying winemakers,” so common in new world producers as a means of rapid technological learning and diffusion, is uncommon.

Appropriately, the authors’ pioneering work was recognized in September 2018 at a ceremony in Paris with an International Organisation of Vine and Wine (OIV) award in the “wines and territories” category. The volume has paved the way for other researchers in this field. For example, there is passing reference to the high costs of production, but the economics of the industry is not examined in any detail. The very strong yen for much of the past three decades is presumably a factor in the high cost structure. It may also be the case that agricultural protection, especially for rice, has inflated land values and, hence, agricultural costs. The rela- tively closed Japanese labour market, in this case for example, for the wine harvest, could be another factor. One might therefore hypothesize that Japan will remain a relatively small but interesting niche producer, its wine of particular interest to a loyal domestic clientele and to a select international market with a particular interest in Japanese wine and culinary culture.

More generally, the authors point to the need for more accurate wine production, consumption, and trade statistics in Japan (and its neighbours, particularly China), a subject on which one of the authors has co-authored an important recent paper in this Journal (Anderson and Harada, 2018). One can only hope that this volume will stimulate more work in this field.

The background of the authors is eclectic: two of them are academics at Tokyo universities (one in finance, the other in agriculture and life sciences); one has a law doctorate and worked mainly for the Japanese government and the United Nations; and one has a graduate education in wine and direct commercial experi- ence. The president of the Japan Wine Association also provides a brief, interesting Afterword.

The book is beautifully illustrated and written in a lively and accessible style. For anybody interested in knowing more about wine in this, the world’s third largest economy, and understanding its recent evolution and adaptation in a country with a deep and ancient culture, this is the volume to read.

Hal Hill
Australian National University
hal.hill@anu.edu.au
doi:10.1017/jwe.2018.46

I strongly suspect that for those of us who are coffee and wine enthusiasts, this book will become our must go to encyclopedia. Written by Morten Scholer, with an eye to detail that probably only someone with an engineering background can bring to the subject, it explores two seemingly unrelated worlds. I say “seemingly” for there is no doubt that many in the coffee trade look up to the wine industry, wishing that they could find the magic wand that will transform the quality end of the coffee market into something approximating what wine has achieved. And it is in that spirit that Morten has explored the similarities and differences between the two, and, indeed in doing so, has clearly demonstrated that the wine industry can also learn a thing or two from the coffee industry.

With around 2.5 billion cups of coffee and 0.5 billion glasses of wine consumed each day, these industries are important components of not just world trade, but of everyday consumption and it is somewhat surprising that the literature comparing the two industries is so thin. This book is, therefore, long overdue. Morten has care- fully maintained an objectivity that is uncommon among aficionados, although he does allow his love of both products to shine through. This is not, however, a book that can be read from cover to cover in one session, but rather a reference book that not only contains the basics, but also contains precious nuggets that inev- itably will make you cry out loud “Wow, I never knew that!”

The book is designed to appeal to players in both industries, explaining both sectors in a simple, yet effective, style, allowing the reader from either the wine or coffee trade to understand the mechanics of how the other industry works and the challenges each face. On the other hand, it must be said, that the juxtaposition and constant zig-zag shift between coffee and wine has the potential to be, at times, a little confusing. But the clever use of colour codes together with many illus- trations and maps, as well as a very detailed list of contents overcomes this, making the book more reader friendly than might have otherwise been the case.

As you would expect Morten starts off looking at the long and illustrious history of both products, although wine can certainly be traced further back than coffee. He then moves on to statistics (maybe not everyone’s cup of tea), but his unique and definitely quirky approach encourages the reader to continue delving into the differ- ent tables covering production, conversion ratios, and area devoted to both crops.