Just recently Yasmin, Anne, and I were a little stunned to see that a large wine distributor in Hong Kong had pretty much copied our web design for their own online store. We are sure it wasn't purposeful from the owner of the company, who we've met before and is quite personable, but it's still a rather disingenuous move from whichever staffer was hired to revamp their e-commerce store. They not only borrowed heavily from our design, but also our copy, and stylistic tone.

That in itself hasn't really bothered us. Ever since we launched our website in 2013 we've seen many other wine merchants in the market adapt similarly with improved e-commerce stores, which is inevitable, and also better for local wine lovers in general. 

But what does bother us is how ever since a few other like-minded wine importers and Cork Culture started working exclusively with organic, biodynamic, and natural wines, many of the big importers in Hong Kong have started to stock one or two wineries that fit this "category", after their bosses started noticing that customers in Hong Kong are actually receptive to buying organic wine.

We imported just a few cases of @cassini_vigneron_ #stemilion because we were worried about the readiness of 2014. But we just crack and poured this and it's brilliant and sensually textured. It opens up well aromatically over an hour, but the transparency is almost Burgundian. A seeming paradox I know, but Cassini makes it happen. #hkfoodies #winegeek #winelover #naturalwine

A photo posted by Cork Culture (@corkculturehk) on May 14, 2016 at 5:42am PDT

While many may see this as something positive, I find it rather cynical. It's the equivalent of how a macro beer producer/distributor like Anheuser-Busch InBev is swallowing up as many craft breweries as it can, purely in order to secure a larger cut of the pie. If all the big players eventually start distributing the most famous natural winemakers alongside their more conventional large estates, then there's little room for distinction in the market. 

That's why more often nowadays you see a large wine importer with a portfolio that is all over the place stylistically—they choose what works and what sells, but it's a decision made in the boardroom, not in the heart.

If consumers don't care where their wine is from as long as it is good, then the same few companies that already dominate the local market will continue to grow unchecked, at the cost of small, dedicated importers. Less competition amongst merchants is terrible for consumers, and Hong Kong's wine industry is vibrant because of how many different kinds of wine are available in the city.

Watching #chefstable with an orange Pinot Gris from NZ. It's the colour of the sunset, and equally enthralling.

A photo posted by Cork Culture (@corkculturehk) on Jun 4, 2016 at 4:55am PDT

From the very start of our company in 2013 we've focused on wines that are made strictly by low intervention methods. We don't stock wines that aren't made either sustainably, organically, biodynamically, or naturally because that's our humble belief. And neither are we absolute natural wine fanatics—we recognise that SO2 (which distinguishes natural and biodynamic wines) is essential in wine to a certain degree. 

But we'd be lying to ourselves and to our customers if we sold Grand Cru Classe Bordeaux out of one hand, calling it fine wine, and then sold natural wine out the other hand, all while maintaining our stance on pushing low-intervention wine.

For us, it's simple, since our belief has always been that great wine is grown, not made. Biodynamic, organic, and sustainable winemaking isn't a trend that we suddenly support just because it's starting to become popular in Hong Kong.

Exclusive import of this quiet grower that is relatively unknown even in France. They favour a low dosage style, which means more scrutiny on the quality of the grapes. Verdict? Naturally rich, rustic texture of bubbles, but minimal carbonation. Nicely balanced acidity, chalky, and more on the salty side than floral. Apples on the end, but more berries due to the higher presence of PN. Not bad for a basic cuvée.

A photo posted by Cork Culture (@corkculturehk) on May 30, 2016 at 6:23am PDT

While we are glad to see that more and more importers, and hence their customers, are exposed to sustainable wine, it's frustrating to hear merchants proclaim their love of good winegrowing, when for years all they've done is push plonk upon their customers. 

Our apologies for writing what may have come off as a little defensive. But we find it necessary to establish that what we are seeking to do with Cork Culture isn't a marketing gimmick or a simple business opportunity formulated from recognising a hole in the market. From the very beginning we've never been in this for the quick buck, and more than anything we value the support we get from customers who believe in what we do.

Of all the things most associated with wine snobbery, blind tasting must surely be one of the most derided. We all have the caricature of the old French sommelier (replete with slicked back, oiled hair) locked away in a dusty subconscious cellar, sniffing a glass and declaring with absolute confidence—this is a 1945 Margaux!

After that moment, his audience gasps and then collects themselves, before clapping furiously. What skill! What knowledge.

In Hong Kong, replace the old French sommelier (because all the sommeliers now in the city are exceedingly handsome, young, and suave) with a stubborn collector—and you pretty much have the same scenario.

It sounds like a lot of bullshit, but does blind tasting actually have any practical use? 

This is ridiculous. I blind tasted this as 2011 Syrah from N. Rhone, but I couldn't be any further from the mark. This is still very young, 100% Gamay from this age old producer...very structured, chalky tannins, spicy red fruit. I can't believe 11 year old Beaujolais is like this. #hkfoodies #hkwine #winehk #chateaudesjacques

A photo posted by Cork Culture (@corkculturehk) on Dec 9, 2015 at 5:47am PST

Don't think you know everything about wine

To be sure, it can be humbling to think you know a lot about wine and then suddenly miss the target on every bottle you taste blind. And modesty is certainly something everyone needs more of in life. It's best that even after trying lots of wine people shouldn't be too full of themselves; wine is all about discovery anyway, so let's not let ego get in the way.

For example, in the wine above, someone who says they hate all Beaujolais might be immensely surprised to taste Chateau des Jacques' Moulin-a-Vent, especially from a ripe, long-living vintage like 2005. First of all, it's definitely not light and fruity like the stereotype of Beaujolais, secondly it shows that good Gamay can age, and thirdly it proves even Louis Jadot (who own the estate) can make interesting wines. And before anyone writes me an irate comment (probably because they either distribute or own lots of Jadot), relax—there's nothing wrong with Jadot wines; there's just nothing great about them either.

There are two lessons that I took back from this bottle. The first was that after drinking so much natural, clean Beaujolais from producers such as Foillard, Lapierre, Lapalu, Thillardon, and Yann Bertrand, another side of Gamay exists. Whereas the aforementioned producers mostly eschew new oak and usually ferment in a blend of cement vats/old oak, Chateau des Jacques is marked heavily by its heavy-handed use of oak—and after 11 years its still massively apparent. As admittedly I hadn't tried such an oaked Beaujolais in years, it threw me off the trail. Personally I'm not the biggest fan of this style because it didn't really taste like Gamay or Pinot, but it might serve as a good introduction for Bordeaux / Rhone fans to get into Beaujolais.

Secondly, despite the amount of intervention from the winemaker, it was a great chance to see the terroir of Moulin-a-Vent even through the oak, as the intensity of the cru still came through. Also since nobody ever really carries extensive stock of aged Beaujolais, every little glimpse we can get of a vintage like 2005 is an interesting reference.

Drinking #raveneau 2011 Butteaux on a cold, rainy night was quite a last second surprise. Briny, mineral, with quite a bit of lemony ripeness. Needs a lot more ageing - dare I say that #pattesloup make an equally riveting Butteaux for 1/3rd the price? #hkfoodies #hkwine #winehk #biodynamic #chablis

A photo posted by Cork Culture (@corkculturehk) on Jan 22, 2016 at 8:18pm PST

Free yourself of the label

Drinking blind frees yourself from prejudgement, which is normally inevitable as just knowing the region will already start to influence your thoughts. It also will reveal a lot of famous names for what they are—good (occasionally great, and almost always too young) wines that are overpriced due to excessive demand from insatiable wine lovers who insist on drinking the best, or what is generally considered the best, exclusively. This goes for people who worship Selosse when maybe some of his protégées are doing equally well for far less, or for people who prefer a young famous Rhone to an aged lesser-known Rhone from an equally good producer.

Just a few weeks ago I had the good fortune to experience a 2011 Butteaux from Raveneau, generally accepted as one of the two best producers in Chablis. His wines are legendary, not cheap at all, and electric. Even if we drank it blind it would have been amazing, bold, and an exception to the humdrum Chardonnay that many producers try to pass off as Chablis. But the question that came to mind was, for $1200, is there better Chablis now at a lower price?

I definitely believe so, and think the Raveneau will probably justify its reputation and price in another 5-10 years. At the moment however, I'll try to speak without bias when I say that Thomas Pico (disclaimer: yes I know we sell his wines), makes an equally fresh and transparent expression of Chablis right now. Because honestly speaking, the Raveneau wasn't that profound. It was everything we love in Chablis and it's 100% an incredible wine, but it didn't exceed our expectations of what Chablis could be. There were hints of the brine, and even some deeper strands of smoke, but as of right now, this is not showing its full potential. If tasted blind, few would give it a second chance. But because we know it's Raveneau, we know it has the chops to be great in the future. 

But $1200 for a wine that's meant to be consumed years on? For the cellar, yes. For a restaurant, no.

The best way to drink #occhipinti is by the bottle, on the street. #winehk #hkwine #naturalwine

A photo posted by Cork Culture (@corkculturehk) on Sep 11, 2015 at 6:31pm PDT

Whenever some of our wine loving friends invite a group of people together for dinner and the topic falls invariably and quickly to wine, the first thing the old hands of the group ask the newcomers is: What do you like to drink? 

Aside from the genuine curiosity of one inquisitive wine lover to the other, it's hard to deny that there's always an underlying challenge in that statement—basically, "do you know what you are talking about?" The person who poses the question is throwing out half an assessment and half a challenge.

While the assessment aspect is socially useful to avoid embarassment, the challenge is purely to satisfy one's ego.

The challenge makes wine more of a game where people compare their knowledge, pressing here and there to find out if you are a wine connoisseur on their level or not. People want to find out what your favourite wineries are, what hole they can pigeon you into. Are you a boring Bordeaux and Burgundy baron, a Super-Tuscan romantic, a natural wine hipster, or a New World hedonist?

It's very well likely that you could  be one of these things, or even all of them. Does it matter? Not really. Wine should always be about discovery, and even if someone has become accustomed to drinking only from one or two regions their whole life, it isn't too late to slowly introduce them to new things. All you have to do is look at this huge trend for Burgundy nowadays to realise that even older wine lovers get peer pressured into liking something they might not have previously wanted to try at all. 

So usually when we talk about wine, we love to ask: What are you drinking now?

What old-school producer did you just discover, or what strange new varietal has just found its way to our shores, or what awesome new kid is doing what, where?

As the New York Times wine writer Eric Asimov keeps mentioning, there's never been as good a time to be a wine lover than now. Everyone is doing new things—even Château Margaux and Palmer are experimenting with or have gone biodynamic—so it doesn't make sense anymore to be stubborn or unadventurous in your choices.

The best winery for years may no longer be the top dog anymore; alternatively, it may be possible to get a higher quality wine from a different producer in your favourite region for far less.

We are following our own advice this Mid-Autumn by passing up wine and having a beer. Not just any beer of course... A sour raspberry wild ale brewed by the Danish magician #mikeller in #deproefbrouwerij - playful, tart, and earthy.

A photo posted by Cork Culture (@corkculturehk) on Sep 27, 2015 at 4:51am PDT

In a way, it's the craft beer mentality: look for collaborations between two awesome breweries, try the latest release from this Danish or Swedish super star brewery as they travel the world, and retail wise, keep buying new beers each time you visit the shop—while keeping in mind some safe references for regular drinking.

In wine, identify the old masters and look for their apprentices and protégés. It's the secret to being a smart wine drinker, and will give you more satisfaction for your money in the long run.

Geeking out is about exploring, and the word itself is about claiming back the stigma behind being a curious drinker. While many beer and wine lovers do flirt dangerously with too much of a good thing, the process of discussing and learning more about interesting booze is undoubtedly an awesome past-time. Being a wine lover just gets a bad rap, since the price of many of your father's first-growths are laughably overpriced, making everyone assume wine is for the rich only. 

As we know here, that's a lazy fallacy. Keep most of your drinking wines at $150-$500, buy 2-3 to experience as they age, and don't play favourites.

Except good Beaujolais. Always buy good Beaujolais.

#Foillard is a king in Morgon. Someone please ship us a magnum of this juice. #naturalwine #winehk #hkwine

A photo posted by Cork Culture (@corkculturehk) on Sep 29, 2015 at 4:49am PDT

P.S. We do realise that in our staff introductions that we list our favourite regions. But we are always open to new things and new producers!