Is it cherry, strawberry, water melon, ruby grapefruit, or raspberry? Moi, je prefere raspberry.
III. Some labels do not offer the consumer informed consent. (Their assigned reading will be Immanuel Kant on the categorical imperative.) 
They draw a veil over the grape types. Usually in silence. But some blabber mouths cannot even manage that discretion. Some labels assure the buyer that the rosé is made from, and each one of these is a direct quotation from a label on the trusty database (which is always kept in the bright light of the next morning, as a quality assurance practice): “family grown grapes,” “several types of grapes,” “grapes grown on the property,” “mainly cabernet (ah, yes, but which cabernet?), “both red and white varieties,” “finest grape varieties” (but which cannot be named), “juicy fruit,” “premium grapes,” “organically grown grapes,” “esoteric grapes,” and – best for last – “grapes.” Disinformation of Soviet quality.
Other labels and even the names of the wine are noteworthy. Some rosés are said to be “One Serious Rosé” or something similar. This I have discovered is code for red wine with a light color. “Pretty in Pink,” “Pink House,” “Arrogant Frog,” and others that I will not dignify by reference.
The database also includes some cryptic tasting notes, and references to when and where I had the wine. The tasting notes often contain the words “bland,” “yuck,” and other technical terms only a few readers will understand. I do have a more systematic side though, and taking a leaf from the English guide to rosé (now misplaced and presumed lost) I have tried to relate rosé to red fruits
Cherry – strawberry – water melon – ruby grapefruit – raspberry
At the cherry end are rosés that are tight, light red wine; not for me. If I want red I drink red. Strawberry, OK, but again not what I now look for. I prefer the right end of the above continuum, raspberry. A tart finish with some bite. Often, but not always, that bite is associated with a tiny spritz in the wine. That is refreshing! Does it have to be said? Well, yes, perhaps to the those stuck in the time warp of Mateus Rosé, the finish on the third palate is dry. I observe that when some people comment on the sweetness in any wine, including rosé, what they mean is the fruit taste on the front palate, and not to residual sugar on the third palate, but that is what we connoisseurs mean when we say dry, the finish on the third palate. If it cloys at the end then it is sugar sweet. The raspberry flavor lingers and gives some of these rosé a long finish, longer than many white and red wines that Mateus Rosé fossils claim to prefer.
Speaking of Mateus Rosé, there is news there, too. For those that have the palates to taste it, Mateus has gone dry. (I owe this intelligence, since confirmed by this writer, to Peter Dodd who bore me this news.) In fact, thorough in this as in all else, I have tasted all the down market Portuguese rosé wines (you know in those squat little bottles, or in the case of Lancers – canteen sort of shape) I can find – Lancers, Mateus, Rosalina, and Primavera – and I assert that they are cleaner with a dryer finish than many higher priced cousins.
To be continued.