This article is taken from the August-September 2025 issue of The Critic. To get the full magazine why not subscribe? Right now we’re offering five issues for just £25.
French regional promotional bodies aren’t noted for their dynamic marketing. I picture some of them as a room with a dusty telephone and an old man sleeping off his lunch surrounded by yellowing posters extolling the wines of the Loire or urging people to visit the Pyrénées-Atlantiques département.
So it was unusual when Inter Rhône ran a series of striking adverts on the London Underground in the 2000s featuring a hedgehog with bushy red hair and a hippo with a red bandana with the line “Think Red, Think Côtes-du-Rhône”. Then some busybody complained that the cartoon animals might appeal to children, and they had to be pulled.
I still think of that cheery hedgehog when I’m looking for something affordable on a wine list — always the mark of a good advert. Today, however, that simple message wouldn’t work because the Rhône Valley is not just about red wine. In fact, the region’s red wine sales are decreasing, as they are everywhere, and the region’s whites and rosés are increasingly important.
At a recent Yapp Bros tasting in London the whites stole the show. This West Country merchant has long specialised in the wines of the Rhône, being one of the first to bring exotic names like Gigondas, Lirac and Tavel into Britain.
Started in 1969 as a hobby business by dentist Robin Yapp, it has expanded into England’s premier Rhône specialist, with a strong interest in the Loire and the Languedoc. Following the retirement of Robin’s son Jason, it’s now run by stepson Tom Ashworth.
According to Ashworth, the northern Rhône has long been famous for its whites, even if production was tiny.
The great red, Hermitage, has a white equivalent made from a blend of Roussanne and Marsanne. Thomas Jefferson was a fan, whilst Napoleon and Wagner were keen on St-Péray, a tiny appellation that specialises in sparkling wines. More recently, American novelist Jay McInerney has often expressed his love for the heady Viognier-based Condrieu and Saint-Grillet.
The south is rapidly catching up. Most of the well-known appellations such as Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Lirac and, since 2023, Gigondas have their white wines made from a cocktail of grapes including Grenache Blanc, Bourboulenc and Picardin.
Matt Walls, who wrote an excellent book on the region, said: “Because they’re usually a blend of different local grape varieties, they’re not as easy to understand as, say, Chardonnay or Sauvignon Blanc. But that’s what makes them so distinctive and gives them their wonderful sense of place.”
You’ll know what he means when you try something like the Cairanne from Boutinot I had recently. With aromas of almonds, apricots and herbs, it tasted so distinctly southern French.
What you don’t find in such wines is high acidity.What they do have is masses of that latest wine buzzword, “texture”, which has replaced “minerality” as the bores’ mot du jour. White Rhônes are notable for how they feel as much as taste, with many developing a distinct nuttiness. They’re wines that make you go “mmmmm”.
As well as the texture, there are flavours that aren’t quite like anything else. Marsanne and Roussanne can bring marzipan, honeysuckle and lemon rind, whilst there’s nothing to compare with the opulent note of apricot you find in a Condrieu.
Ashworth said: “These are bold, full-flavoured wines that partner deliciously with rich dishes of the region — quenelle de brochet, salade Lyonnaise and andouillette — not for the Ozempic type.” Wines for hedonists, in other words. No wonder McInerney is such a fan.
That’s the fancy stuff. Ordinary Côtes-du-Rhône blancs can be very good too and are made in a fresher style than wines of yore. Ashworth said that growers are increasingly turning to fresher grapes such as Piquepoul and Clairette to combat the flabby tendency that can plague whites from this part of the world.
The Rhône valley also has a proud tradition of making full-bodied rosés like Tavel and Lirac. The great American gourmand and gout sufferer A. J. Liebling was a great Tavel lover. He wrote: “The taste is warm but dry, like an enthusiasm held under restraint, and there is a tantalising suspicion of bitterness when the wine hits the top of the palate.”
Made mainly from Grenache Noir, Tavel straddles the line between rosé and red. It’s also the most versatile wine at the table, going with everything from fish to red meat to fresh strawberries and cheese.
If you like your rosés on the lighter side, you can find Rhônes in a more Provençal colour but with much more flavour, such as Guigal’s excellent Côtes-du-Rhône rosé or the wine I wrote about last year as the greatest rosé in the world, Château la Canorgue from the Luberon valley; Peter Mayle country.
Together, whites and rosés make up about 30 per cent of the region’s production and they are increasing every year. “Think Red, White and Pink. Think Côtes-du-Rhône” doesn’t quite have the same ring to it, but it’s a slogan worth remembering next time you are handed the wine list.
