As soon as the sun makes an appearance in London, the rosé corks seem to pop by themselves. Any city rooftop swarms with relaxed, smiling faces, aglow with rosy reflections from the pink nectar sloshing around in their wine glasses. Not just any pink, mind, a specific pink; a very pale pink, as if the black grape skins involved just shot the juice a flirty wink, in true sexy Saint-Tropez style. Ahh, Provence rosé gets us in all the mood, doesn’t it?