Stop drinking Whispering Angel rosé – it’s really not worth the hype

In early Spring 2011, an impossibly glamorous woman swept into the wine shop I was working in, demanding to know when “the Angel” would be back. I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. The “Angel” she was referring to was Whispering Angel, the now internationally famous Provencal rosé hailing from Sacha Lichine’s Chateau d’Esclans in Var, Provence – a wine widely credited for reigniting the world’s love of rosé.

In 2006, Lichine made just 130,000 bottles. Latest estimates suggest that in excess of 1 million cases are now produced and sold in more than 100 countries worldwide, and that it’s the bestselling rosé in the US.

Being a green shoot in the wine trade at the time, I remember our shop being stacked high with salmon-slab boxes of angel juice. The marketing was exquisite – no other wine came in such striking packaging. This was a wine that needed no “selling”, it just grew cherubic wings and flew off the shelf.

It was so popular that it was on strict allocation, with waiting lists of people desperate to secure even the smallest amount. I spent many working days pushing a delivery trolley around the stuccoed streets of Belgravia and leafy lanes of Hampstead, dropping off bottles of the sleek, dusky-pink wine to eager recipients.

Its popularity soared. It became the ultimate Instagram wine – loved by celebrities and royalty alike. I even sold some to a junior royal, who happily tucked a six-pack under her arm and floated out of the store, charmingly delighted with her purchase.

I didn’t think it was worth it then, and I definitely don’t think it’s worth it now. It is the ultimate example of style over substance. If you’re a reality TV fan, you may have seen Below Deck – a show about the crew working on superyachts who serve the rich and famous. I know if I’d spent £200,000 chartering a yacht, I’d be asking some serious questions about why I was being served a wine that’s regularly on special offer in all the major supermarkets. Tesco Metro in inner-city London is definitely not St Tropez.

But how did it get to this point? It’s often said that rosé is a wine you make when you have a bad vintage; it’s made from red grapes using white-wine-making techniques. Lichine, the father of Whispering Angel, has wine coursing through his veins. He’s from a fine Bordeaux pedigree but sold the family chateau to pursue his dream of making a “great” rosé. In his mind, all rosé before Whispering Angel was just cheap and cheerful wine. He wanted to change that perception, and no one can deny that he’s done just that.

He has done an incredible job of raising the profile of Provencal wine. The price per hectolitre of Provencal rosé has quadrupled over the past 15 years. His innovation has been a great encouragement to other producers in the area, many of whom have invested further in their vineyards and wineries to increase the quality of their production. Provence is definitely regarded as the global benchmark for pink wine, and it’s the only wine region in the world that specialises in rosé.

But does that mean you should drink it? I don’t think so. For all its beautiful marketing, I’ve never been left excited by the wine itself – and as its volume production increases, that lack of excitement just grows.

In 2019, LVMH’s Moet Hennessy acquired 55 per cent of Chateau d’Esclans, which produces Whispering Angel. They brought with them global distribution and a huge marketing budget – there are now numerous wineries involved in the production of this once scarce wine.

But what does it actually taste like? It’s pretty enough on the nose, with hints of ripe red berries and fresh strawberries, and on the palate it’s dry, crisp and refreshing, with those same summer fruits coming through – but there’s not a lot else, and for its £20 price tag it doesn’t scream value for money to me.

So what would I drink instead? There are so many great rosés out there, and I’d encourage you to crack into them instead this summer. Don’t be influenced by the colour of the wine – you can’t taste colour. Darker rosés do not mean they’re sweeter – different red grapes have different intensities of colour, so don’t believe that the only dry rosé is a pale rosé.

Look for regions that don’t have quite the “hype” of Provence. I’ve long been a fan of Cerasuolo d’Abruzzo, translating as cherry red, made from the montepulciano grape from the region of Abruzzo in Italy. Or a zingy zweigelt rosé from Austria. I love Judith Beck’s Pink, which is widely available online from numerous independent wine shops.

There are delights to be found in the supermarket, too. Waitrose has an exciting new range of esoteric wines, including a susumaniello and an aglianico from Puglia, Italy – each is under a tenner and packs a heap of flavour and excitement into the glass. And of course, if you really want a wine from Provence, then look a little further west in France and try Aldi’s Coteaux de Bèziers from the Languedoc – it might just do the trick.

But when it comes to pink wine this summer, I’d personally avoid any wine that was served on a reality show about the achingly rich superyacht people and their frivolous lifestyle. Someone’s going to be laughing all the way to the bank, and I can guarantee it won’t be you.

Rosamund Hall (DipWSET) is a freelance writer and wine consultant