Wine wine wine
Trip Start
Jun 10, 2008
1
20
21
Trip End
Jan 25, 2009
Shaowu,
China
Monday, September 15, 2008
In Yantai, we payed a visit to the Changyu Winery, China's oldest and most reputable wine company. The tour presents Changyu as a superior, French-level snobbish wine, on par with the best wines in the world. They charge several hundred RMB a bottle (usually about $30-50), but it tastes more like the worst of slightly vinegary table wine that sell for $5-10 in the states. Only, now that I've gotten to Shaowu, I've discovered people often follow the French's (I guess?) lead and wine is often the choice at classier functions. Only their wine is overpriced and kind of sucks. Although the store in Changyu did carry very reasonably priced bottles of the South African wine called Pinotage that was so great for drinking on the beach and o so cheap in the Gambia.
But on with my story. Keeping this in the back of your wine (any wine is wine here, and thus considered a bit on the classier side) I made an interesting discovery today in the grocery store. After picking out all the essentials for restocking my kitchen - spicy peppers, eggplant, leaks, cabbage, cauliflower, red onions (they have no yellow onions or not spicy peppers in Shaowu), eggs, tofu - I headed over to the baijiu and tea section to buy a little beer to keep around the house. Much to my surprise (and delight), along with the local Chinese beers was one American brand - Pabt's Blue Ribbon. In half liter cans no less. Certainly not what I expected, but I was glad to have this taste of American college life in China available.
But then, in with all these very classily-marketed Chinese wines, was one American vintage - Carlo Rossi. If you aren't familiar, check out the website carlorossi.com where their motto is "jug simple." They used to have an amazing flash animation with a black and white cut-out screaming in a high-pitched voice about the month-aged grapes and sugar that make Carlo Rossi a king among wines, or something ridiculous like that. It comes in gallon jugs for 10 bucks a pop in American and is usually the centerpiece, next to National Bohemian, of a relaxed, thoroughly classless night of drinking at St. Mary's. Rich shouldn't be allowed to hold them because they frequently end up on the floor, in pieces, with the sweet fragrance of sugar-filled vinegar wafting through the dorm. Only in China, it doesn't come in a jug, but a very nice-looking liter bottle that sells for 275 RMB (that's 1/3 of the volume for almost 3x the price in America).
And this, dear friends, is why I always ask for cold beer at nicer Chinese functions.
