Bottle Guides
Orange Wines That'll Probably Make You An Orange Wine Person
By Aimee Rizzo
Orange is the new white - in case you haven’t heard. There’s a saffron-hued revolution happening before our very eyes, and once you sip a remarkable amber that really gets you right in the soul, there’s this amazing chemical phenomenon that happens in the brain. I think it’s just the release of dopamine and serotonin, but I like to call it: Orange Theory. And people somehow get really impressed if you tell them that you do Orange Theory every day.
But I digress. What is orange wine? It’s grape juice made from white grapes that have fermented partially on their skins (usually they’re stripped right away, like your light jacket in late September at 2pm). From effervescent bottles with kombucha-like funk to elegant dinner party staples, here are eight orange wines that’ll probably make you an orange wine person.
You shouldn’t be scared to try orange wine. But if for some reason it does frighten you, Day Wines’ Vin De Days L’Orange is a great place to dip your toe in the water (juice). It has a barely-there hint of skin contact, and a big gulp is refreshing, dry, tropically tangerine-y, and basically a fistful of freshly-cut flowers to the face - but not in an overpowering perfumey way that’d remind you of potpourri, or that dress from Midsommar.
It’s pretty nuts if you think about the fact that orange wine is absolutely not made from oranges, but tastes like all sorts of citrus fruits. Of all the flavors, orange-colored wine is orange-y, and that’s just hilarious. Which brings me to É Orange - a hazy blend that’s basically the wine incarnation of Tang. Citrusy with tangerine peel, a little chalky with tinges of sea salt and honey, and a zephyr of blossom-y vibes. OK, that sounds much more nuanced than a dissolvable OJ-inspired drink powder endorsed by mischievous orangutans. But you get my point. Bold, acidic, herbaceous, and biting. Tang, take your Vitamin C granules and step aside - È! Orange is the real kick in a glass.
What better way to lure you into popping open a bottle of orange bubbles than giving it a name like “Fun Juice” and throwing some trippy shadowpeople on the label splashing around in a psychedelic creek made of primary color swirls located in an alternate dimension? This New Zealand sauvignon blanc/pinot gris blend understands this. Fun Juice has this grassy, mango funk, clementine-y zestiness, and a fuji apple crispness that makes it a great pool sipper, boat sipper, park sipper...OK, it’s a wherever-you-are sipper.
If orange wines made up the cast of Hamilton, this piquette would be Jonathan Groff, stealing the show without a ton of stage time (and just generally being wet - remember all the spitting?) Bow down to the king of piquette: a pithy citrus-scented breeze full of raw pear, fuzzy overripe nectarines, and Hongyuan guava hard candies. I love those things. Then, an earthy afterbite of nutty matcha reminiscent of those 99-cent cans of Arizona green tea. This butterscotch-gold elixir is the can of bubbly orange juice to rule all cans of bubbly orange juice.
Unico Zelo’s Esoterico is cold, liquid proof that wine can taste like sour cream old-fashioned cake donuts coated with sticky tangelo-spiked powdered sugar glaze. Or kumquats shaken with white pepper. Or a big ol’ glass of Sunny D smashed between rounds of Quack Diddly Oso while sitting crisscross-applesauce in a wildflower-littered field. This one is the weirdest of the bunch, but that’s why it’s so wonderful. Tart funk, fresh florals, and optimal guzzlability. Enough about dipping your toe in the water - this is a primal belly-flop into this big, beautiful mess of wild grapes.
If you don’t feel like nerding out for a sec, cover your eyes for this part. But to me, what makes orange wine exciting is that it tends to take on some red wine-ish qualities. And my favorite thing about red wine is its ability to hit the spot when I’m sitting by a crackling fire. This Marsanne from The Orcas Project is that cozy campfire red wine that isn’t red at all. Instead, it’s oozing with warm marmalade on charred sourdough toast, with a bit of herbal smoke to give every drop the kind of backbone you want in a fireside-slurping red. Only, again, to reiterate, it’s not red.
Say that you’re invited to a dinner party. Neat. You’re tasked with bringing the wine, and the hosts are serving roasted chicken, which, hot take, is the most boring dish to entertain with, despite how f*cking thrilled Jeffrey Garten gets when he receives some from Ina. Anyway, this lemon and thyme-stuffed bird needs your help. That’s where a bottle of Christina Orange comes in the clutch. Not only is it a great “starter orange” if you’ve never had an amber wine before, but it’s a scrumptious, minimally-funky tsunami of citrus peel with a few waves of pineapple, tangerine, and mango that’ll straight-up transform really any chicken, from piccata to Nashville-style hot, from sad to rad. And we like rad.
Welcome to an inspiring reality where Grandma’s perfume doesn’t make you want to gag. This dry orange wine whose name translates to “Ham Ham'' is effortlessly cool and a little wacky, with a lot of eccentricity going on that hits you all at once - like a wave of Nickelodeon slime or that second edible. You’ve got hella explosive floral elderflower, tupelo honey, sticky citrus preserves, and a touch of mango-flavored Simply Orange, all lined up and ready to kick ass like the superheroes in “Mystery Men.” And, let it be known that it does taste stupendous with a mouthful of dry-cured pork.