You’re drinking rosé all wrong… so how chilled should it be?

The sun has been shining for a good 30 seconds, which means for many of us it’s finally time to crack open that bottle of rosé we’ve been keeping back just for this occasion. It’s been in the fridge since the start of the month, so it’s definitely cold enough to drink now – and, until I read the news this morning, I could think of nothing better than sitting back with a glass of rosé from a bottle dripping with condensation.

But according to Marks & Spencer, we are drinking the pink stuff at the wrong temperature.

We’re chilling it for far too long apparently – we should take it out of the fridge at least 15 minutes before serving to fully enjoy the flavours and aromas. M&S, I love you, but as we’re knocking back the rosé al fresco, I don’t think many of us will be considering the wine’s finer points.

I’ve spent three decades writing about celebrity, arts and entertainment, quaffing plenty of glasses of wine at parties and launches along the way and, frankly, the quality and temperature of free plonk have never mattered much to me. Well, not at the time I was drinking it, anyway.

A few years back, I was a pretty enthusiastic ligger, and while I wasn’t standing at the bar waiting for the trays of wine to come out, it was nice to have a cold/tepid/warm one with friends and entertaining people. After a few glasses, I remember giving career advice to the lead singer of an Eighties band, and telling one of our best TV writers what his next project should be. I bet they really appreciated that.

And when I got home? I have a large dark stain on the coconut matting in my hall which, despite vigorous scrubbing, stands as a permanent reminder of some bibulous evening at the launch of something or other. The common element in all of those cringeworthy scenarios was that I’d been on the white wine.

In the good old days of showbiz journalism, it would be very nice white that you’d get at a party or a launch which would mean that, while getting a bit sloshed, you wouldn’t end up dribbling down a pop star by 9pm or having to call in sick the next day, claiming you’d picked up an unknown stomach bug.

As the recession kicked in, and the parties became fewer and further between, the quality of white wine was very much the sort you find at ankle-level on supermarket shelves; the kind described by Clive James as “one that merely stained your teeth without stripping off the enamel”.

Even in my hazy memories, I can’t ever remember getting sloshed on rosé. And, in my experience, rosé is best served barely chilled at all – just a few ice cubes nicked from a champagne bucket dropped in will take it down to a drinkable temperature.

Now we know how to drink it properly – chilled to no lower than 7C, please – perhaps we should be buying the right stuff, too.

Chapel Down’s Rosé Brut, which is produced in Kent and was served to 650 guests at Kate and Wills’s wedding, this week made it into the world’s top 50 wines list – the first British wine of its kind to ever receive this accolade. This barbecue season might be a good time to upgrade from Aldi’s £7 Whispering Angel dupe and Kylie’s exclusive-to-Tesco rosé…

As someone who grew up thinking Blue Nun and Piat d’Or wines were the height of sophistication, I still hold on to the idea that rosé served at any temperature is delicate and ladylike, because it’s pink and comes in pretty bottles, and often served in a flute, so I’m less inclined to pour it straight down my throat.

And if I did, it would probably make a really pretty stain on the hall carpet.