There’s absolutely nothing wrong with delicate French rosés. They can be lovely. They can be sweet and whimsical and soft - like an Eskimo kiss or a lace doily your grandmother uses to serve tea. That’s all rainbows and sparkles and unicorns and just fine for some.
We don’t do Eskimo kisses over here and we don’t do doilies. Pink-a- boo is more like an impassioned open-mouthed kiss between lovers who have been separated for months by war. Guts and glory are what we do, and this wine has heaps of both.
If a fresh strawberry and ripe guava had a love child, it would have the me bouquet as Pink-a-boo. And we will name her, “Strawva”. And Strawva will taste of pomegranate, rose and hibiscus. This hot pink panther of love is smoother than a greased-up pool boy but with enough muscle to service your every whim.
Go ahead and put on your foppish finery and raise your pinky as you sip those wisps of wine from France or get yourself a mug of ‘Merica.