Yellow wine, or huangjiu, has long held a place in Chinese cultural tradition. Aged and amber-hued, this rice-based spirit predates baijiu and traces its roots back over 3,000 years to the Zhejiang region. But despite its rich heritage, huangjiu remains largely unknown outside of specific seasonal traditions—most notably as the perfect pairing for Chinese mitten crab in autumn.

Now, producers like Gu Yue Long Shan are hoping to reintroduce huangjiu to the modern drinker, repositioning it as more than a seasonal companion. As yellow wine attempts to step into the spotlight, it faces a delicate balancing act: honouring centuries of tradition while adapting to contemporary tastes and drinking habits.

Huangjiu's historic appeal—and its decline

Made from rice, glutinous rice, and wheat, huangjiu is fermented and aged for years—sometimes decades—resulting in a 14–20% ABV wine that can range from dry to sweet. While entry-level versions like Shaoxing wine are commonly used in cooking, higher-end expressions have long marked special milestones such as passing exams (Zhuangyuan Hong) or weddings (N’er Hong, or Daughter’s Wine).

Despite its deep cultural roots, huangjiu’s popularity waned through the 20th century. The disruptions of war and famine meant grain was reserved for food, not alcohol. Later, imported Western drinks like beer began dominating the Chinese beverage landscape, particularly after the 1903 establishment of the Tsingtao brewery.

Fast forward to today, and beer giants like Tsingtao report revenues nearing CNY9 billion. In contrast, the entire huangjiu market totalled just CNY12.72 billion in 2022—dwarfed by baijiu giant Kweichow Moutai’s revenue of CNY124.1 billion in the same year.

Repositioning yellow wine for the modern drinker

Kent Tong, general manager of Gu Yue Long Shan’s Hong Kong branch, is leading efforts to modernise huangjiu’s image. His brand ranges from affordable cooking wines at just HK$22 (£2.28) to ultra-premium 50-year-old bottles priced at HK$15,000 (£1,551). In 2024 alone, the brand hosted 16 events to promote yellow wine—half of which still centred around mitten crab season, but the other half aimed to expand its appeal year-round.

Tong believes cocktail culture, often a gateway for global spirit appreciation, is not a viable path for huangjiu due to its bold, sometimes overpowering flavours—similar to baijiu. Instead, he’s pursuing high-end culinary partnerships with top-tier restaurants like Mott 32, which has outposts in Hong Kong, Las Vegas, and Seoul, and Arcane, a Michelin-starred European restaurant in Hong Kong.

At Arcane, huangjiu is used as a base for sauces, while Mott 32 features aged expressions on its drinks list. Sara Checchi, group head sommelier for Maximal Concepts (which owns Mott 32), has curated a selection of three huangjiu bottles ranging from 10 to 30 years old, priced between HK$1,250 and HK$3,580. “When we get the chance to engage the guests with it, they are happy and willing to try it,” she says, though she admits most drinkers are already familiar with the spirit.

To better resonate with modern and international consumers, Tong has also redesigned his bottles into sake-style formats and ceramic vessels, particularly for the Japanese market—his second-largest audience after China.

Quality challenges and the honour system

One of the biggest hurdles facing huangjiu’s premiumisation is the lack of regulation. Age claims on bottles are often based on trust, not verification. “Sometimes you’d see a five- or six-year-old distillery with a 20-year-old wine—it’s a joke,” says Tong, who believes that greater transparency and oversight are needed if the category is to gain credibility abroad.

This ambiguity around age and origin makes it difficult for sommeliers to confidently introduce huangjiu to new audiences. Still, Tong and his collaborators are optimistic that quality-driven producers and education can change perceptions over time.

A slow but steady revival

Huangjiu’s transformation is unfolding gradually. Its distinctive flavours may never appeal to everyone, and its ties to tradition make it resistant to reinvention. But small steps—like expanding food pairings, partnering with top restaurants, and rethinking packaging—are bringing new visibility to a spirit once confined to seasonal consumption and cultural rituals.

With efforts from producers, sommeliers, and chefs alike, yellow wine huangjiu may finally find its place at the modern table—far beyond the fleeting window of mitten crab season.