By Gilbert Vincent Tong
In the fall of 2019,I left home in Indonesia to study in China,my ancestral home a century ago according to my parents.I went to Shaoxing,the capital of Chinese yellow wine.Since the moment I arrived,I have learned many stories about this renowned beverage.Shaoxing locals joke that yellow wine flows through their veins,and the liquor dates back to the ancient Kingdom of Yue in the first millennium BC.
My first sip of this famous wine was at a family feast of a classmate from Shaoxing.The color was darker than beer,and it smelled like medicine.“It is Plum Blossom Wine of Shaoxing,” proclaimed my classmate’s father.“Come,young man,try it.” To demonstrate how brave and chivalrous Indonesian men are,I drank it in one gulp.The pungent,sour,and astringent flavor of the yellow wine surged directly into my nasal cavity,after which a burning sensation rushed down to my stomach.This was the first time I appreciated the strength of Shaoxing yellow wine.
I didn’t try the “stomach-burning wine” again for a full year.When spring arrived,I visited a family-owned winery and witnessed a traditional jarsealing ceremony during a school trip to the Shaoxing Yellow Wine Town in Dongpu.
The owner of the winery was a cheerful,chubby man sporting a small mustache reminiscent of renowned writer Lu Xun (1881-1936),a native of Shaoxing.He was not only skilled in winemaking but also an excellent storyteller.He explained that his workshop preserves and adheres to many traditional and ancient winemaking techniques that follow the rhythm of the seasons.They make medicinal wine in summer,brew barley koji in autumn,start fermentation in early winter,and press in early spring.After hard work all year,they seal the wine into jars around the Spring Equinox,allowing the yellow wine to undergo aging,gradually shed its astringency,and finally develop a mellow and smooth taste.
The jar-sealing ceremony was presided over by a veteran winemaker wearing a dark felt hat,who turned out to be the father of the owner.Before the ceremony,they set up an “offering table”with a plate of “small dough” and a piece of “small yellow brick,” which were actually wine yeast and barley koji.They lit red candles and burned incense in prayer.
Following the brief ritual,the formal sealing of wine started.The winemaker placed an empty jar coated with white ash beneath a large circular container.Turning the tap of the container released a flow of steaming tea-colored liquor,filling the air with a rich medicinal aroma.When the wine jar was filled,it was immediately sealed with boiled lotus leaves and a clay lid.The sealing was secured with bamboo strings and moist “mud head” (to seal the mouth)while the liquor inside the jar was still hot.Gradually dried by the heat,the“mud head” sealed off the wine from the external air,ensuring long-term preservation.
The audience for the ceremony was not just us international students.Many parents attended with their children.Apparently,they sought a sealed jar for their kids.
A couple came to seal a wine jar for their baby to be opened when the child is ready for university.The winery owner dusted the baby’s feet with gold powder and pressed a clear footprint onto a red paper strip used for sealing the jar.
Another little girl was full of curiosity and energy.The boss let her grab a red seal with the name of the workshop and press it onto the top of her own jar.He playfully mentioned that the wine must be saved until the day she “ties the knot.”“But young people nowadays don’t necessarily want to get married,”quipped a female classmate.“If she doesn’t marry,who is going to drink it?”
“There’s not really a specific time to open a jar,” the owner laughed.“The sealing signifies good wishes.You can open it to share whenever you feel like it.If it is not used for a wedding,open it for your parents’ birthday.”
The man also shared a piece of wisdom.“Opening a jar is like opening a chapter of life,” he said.“Both are full of uncertainty.The true flavor can only be appreciated when you crack open the jar.Good or bad,it is a taste that has been refined over time.” The winery owner concluded that in Shaoxing,people store wine not just for the wine’s sake,but to preserve stories and life experiences.
The man handed me a porcelain cup and invited me to taste his homemade yellow wine.While the aromatic scent of the wine wafted through the air,my thoughts traveled back to my hometown thousands of miles away.In Indonesia,alcohol is not a readily available commodity,but the country has its own local spirit called Arak.For instance,the Arak in Bali,the tourist heaven,is brewed from coconuts.In my hometown,there is a Chinese version of Arak.Like Shaoxing yellow wine,Chinese Arak is also made from rice and has a taste reminiscent of yellow wine.
Chinese Arak comes in two varieties.One is nearly transparent and white,while the other is a vibrant red color.The white Arak is primarily used in various rituals and ceremonies such as the Tomb-Sweeping Festival and ancestral worship during the New Year.Offerings usually include three cups of tea and three cups of wine.The red Arak,on the other hand,is commonly used as a cooking wine.
I am quite familiar with the red Arak because my family uses it in a distinctive Chinese home-cooked dish made with pork,tofu,greens,and pickled vegetables.The dish’s soup is infused with red Arak to give it a vivid red color,which somewhat resembles the borscht enjoyed by Russians.I was anemic when I was a little child,and my mom always pushed me to have more of the soup,claiming it would “enrich the blood” perhaps because the color of the soup is so similar to blood.I was skeptical about the alleged “medicinal effect” of the dish,but after I left home,I found myself missing it.I longed for the appetizing flavor of pickled vegetables and,more importantly,the taste of my mom’s cooking,the taste of home.
Reminiscing about home,I lifted the cup of yellow wine.Instead of gulping it down in one go,I sipped the ambercolored liquid like the Chinese people were doing.Strangely,the yellow wine did not give me the sharp impact like the first time I tasted it.A subtly sweet caramel flavor lingered on my tongue,accompanied by a faint almond fragrance in my nostrils.I finally realized that the true essence of yellow wine emerges through savoring.
The winery owner said that when you taste yellow wine,you are savoring the past and life.But what I felt most strongly from this cup of wine was homesickness.My affection for home slid from the bottom of the cup into my throat,warming me inside out as it flowed to the bottom of my heart.