Not all pink wine is the same. The legions of wine lovers who (properly) turn up their noses at white zinfandel would be missing a great treat by confusing that mass-marketed sugar bomb with true rosé. White zinfandel belongs to the blush class of wines, industrial concoctions that usually blend white and red grapes, as well as additives.

Genuine rosé is a red wine, made from such grapes as grenache and mourvedre in France, tempranillo in Spain and sangiovese in Italy, among others. California vintners have produced lovely rosés from pinot noir. The queen of rosé, and one of the most luxurious beverages in the world, is rosé champagne. The pink tint in all of these renditions comes from the same source as the darker color of red wines, the skin of the grape. The winemaker simply strains out the skin before it has a chance to fully macerate into the liquid. Rosés, therefore, have many of the qualities of their darker cousins, including tannin and acidity, making them suitable wines to accompany meals.

Rosé is a case of less being more. The unique charm of the wine derives from a delicate balance of minimal tannin, generally lower alcohol levels, and a bright bouquet of berries and floral tones. In most cases, rosé is as dry as red wine. Served chilled, but not icy cold, rosé makes for a splendid warm-weather quaff. It holds up well to barbecued food, especially seafood, and has enough guts and fruit to match up with highly seasoned Asian and even Mexican dishes. Not surprisingly, the majority of rosé producers are in the warmest sections of traditional wine-producing areas, notably the Midi, or Languedoc, in France, and the corresponding Spanish vineyards across the Pyrenees.

The heart of the rosé realm lies in the Rhone Valley, in southern France. Tavel is the best-known region for rosé, but the abutting Lirac vineyards also produce delightful versions of the stuff. A 2004 Lirac from Domaine Amido, about $12 at the Stalinist State Stores, is a gem. Before the liquid actually gets to your lips, you will marvel at the luminous, glowing cranberry tint. The color is gorgeous, almost supernatural. The bouquet is gentle and vivacious at once, the essence of the vernal spirit. In the mouth this Lirac is crisp, playfully fruity and just complex enough to use as a dinner wine. It washed down a meal of grilled shrimp and sautéed summer squash quite nicely.

For many, cold beer remains the summertime, even anytime, alcoholic beverage of choice, and who could argue with that? But rosé makes for a strong contender, although it is not as widely available. But remember, it's rosé you want, not just any old pink wine.