You’re sitting on a patio, the sun is hitting your glass just right, and that chilled pink liquid looks like summer in a bottle. Most people think of rosé as the trendy newcomer—the "Millennial Pink" phenomenon that took over Instagram a decade ago. But if you're asking how old is rosé, the answer isn't "since 2014." It’s actually closer to 2,600 years.
Honestly, rosé is probably the oldest style of wine in existence.
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It wasn't a choice back then. Ancient winemakers didn't have the technology to make the deep, dark, tannic reds we drink today. They were basically making rosé by accident because they didn't know how to keep the skins in the juice long enough. It’s wild to think that the "basic" drink of today was the high-end standard for the ancient Greeks.
The 600 BC Connection: When Rosé Actually Started
When we look at the timeline, we have to talk about Phocaeans. These were Greek settlers who brought grapevines to Massalia—what we now call Marseille—around 600 BC.
At that time, the "red" wines they produced were light, pale, and field-blended. They didn't have heavy-duty mechanical presses. They certainly didn't have temperature-controlled stainless steel tanks. They would crush the grapes (usually by foot) and let the juice sit with the skins for a tiny bit before whisking it away. This created a wine that was essentially a "vin gris" or a very pale pink.
Because it was lighter and easier to drink in the Mediterranean heat, it became the signature of the region. This is the literal birth of Provence wine culture. When the Romans showed up later, they heard about these famous "pink" wines of Massalia and used their massive trade networks to spread the style across the empire. So, if you’re wondering how old is rosé, you’re looking at a history that predates the Roman Empire’s peak.
Why Ancient Wine Was Pink (Not Red)
The science of wine color is pretty simple, but the ancients were limited by their gear.
Color comes from the skins, not the juice. Almost all grape juice is clear. If you squeeze a red grape, you get white juice. To get red wine, you need "maceration"—letting the juice soak with the skins to leach out the anthocyanins (the pigments).
Ancient Greeks and Romans preferred lighter wines. They thought dark, thick wine was barbaric. They often diluted their wine with water, too. Because they weren't seeking that heavy extraction, the natural result of their winemaking process was a light-bodied pink. It wasn't until much later in the Middle Ages that "Clarets" became a thing, and even those were more like a dark rosé than a modern Cabernet Sauvignon.
The Middle Ages and the "Claret" Confusion
By the time the 12th century rolled around, the world was obsessed with "Clairet."
This was particularly true in Bordeaux. When Eleanor of Aquitaine married Henry II, she basically opened a massive trade pipeline to England. The British fell in love with this pale, translucent red wine from Bordeaux. For centuries, this was the most prestigious wine in the world. It wasn't the "big bold red" Bordeaux we know today; it was a sophisticated, salmon-colored drink.
If you ask a historian how old is rosé in the context of the British wine trade, they’ll point you to the 1150s. This was the era where "pink" became a status symbol.
The Provence Revolution: 19th Century to Now
While the rest of the world started trying to make darker and darker reds to show off "intensity," Provence stuck to its guns. In the late 19th century, when tourism started hitting the French Riviera, the local pink wine became the "vacation drink."
It stayed a bit of a regional secret for a long time.
Then came the 1970s. This is where the American version of the story gets messy. Bob Trinchero at Sutter Home was trying to make a more intense Zinfandel. He bled off some of the juice to concentrate the rest—a process called saignée. He ended up with a lot of pale pink juice. After a fermentation mishap where the yeast died early (stuck fermentation), he was left with a sweet, pink liquid. He called it "White Zinfandel."
It was a massive hit. But it also kind of ruined rosé’s reputation for thirty years. People started thinking pink wine was always sweet, cheap, and "uncool."
The Modern Comeback
It wasn't until the early 2000s that things shifted back. High-end estates like Château d'Esclans launched "Whispering Angel" in 2006. They treated rosé like a serious wine—using expensive barrels and old vines. They proved that pink wine could be dry, sophisticated, and, most importantly, expensive.
This sparked the "Rosé All Day" era.
But even this modern trend is just a return to the 600 BC roots. We’ve circled back to the original Greek preference for crisp, dry, pale wines that pair with fresh food and warm weather.
How to Tell if a Rosé is "Old" (And Should You Drink It?)
When people ask "how old is rosé," they sometimes mean the bottle in their cupboard.
Here is the hard truth: most rosé is not meant to age. Unlike a vintage Port or a Bordeaux, rosé is about freshness. It’s about that zingy acidity and those bright strawberry notes.
Most bottles are meant to be drunk within 1 to 2 years of the vintage on the label.
If you find a bottle from 2018 in your garage, it’s probably not going to kill you, but it won't be great. The color will have shifted from a pretty salmon or onion-skin pink to a brownish, brick-orange hue. The flavor will go from "fresh berries" to "dried leaves and cardboard."
There are exceptions, though. Some high-end Bandol rosés (made with Mourvèdre grapes) can actually age for 5 or 10 years, developing complex flavors of honey and spice. But for 95% of the pink wine out there, younger is better.
Actionable Insights for the Rosé Lover
If you want to drink like an expert and respect the 2,600-year history of this wine, stop looking for the "darkest" pink. Color is not a measurement of quality; it’s just a measurement of skin contact.
- Check the Vintage: Always look for the most recent year. If it’s 2026, you want 2024 or 2025.
- The Region Matters: For the "original" style, look for AOP Côtes de Provence. For something with more "age-ability" and body, try a Tavel or a Bandol.
- Temperature is Key: Don't serve it ice-cold. If it’s too cold, you lose the aromatics. Take it out of the fridge 15 minutes before you pour it.
- Food Pairing: Rosé is the ultimate "utility player." Because it has the acidity of a white wine but the fruit profile of a red, it works with everything from spicy Thai food to a classic burger.
Rosé isn't a fad. It’s the original wine. It’s been around since the dawn of viticulture, survived the fall of empires, survived the "White Zin" era of the 80s, and it’s still the best thing to have in your glass when the sun is out.
Next time you open a bottle, remember you’re participating in a tradition that's older than the Parthenon.
What to do next: Go to your local wine shop and ask for a "direct press" rosé from a high-altitude vineyard. These often have the best tension and acidity, mimicking the ancient styles that were prized for their elegance over power. Check the back label for the importer—names like Kermit Lynch or Louis/Dressner usually indicate a more "traditional," less processed wine that honors the history of the grape.