I was browsing through the Artisan Cellar one day when I discovered a glitch in the matrix in the form of a 13 year old bottle of unoaked Chinese Chardonnay. It was just sitting there in the discount bin, the same bin I had combed over countless times before. How had I missed this?
I’ve been on the hunt for good Chinese wine ever since I read Thirsty Dragon, but it seems most wine shops won’t touch it. The few people I know who have encountered it tell me the quality isn’t there. Of course, they say the same thing about those Eastern European wines I’ve come to love so much, so I figured it’s worth checking out. Unfortunately, Chinese grape wine is nearly impossible to find.
I had some minor success in Chicago’s Chinatown Square, where I was able to find Chinese wine for sale, but both bottles I purchased were oxidized. It was a dire omen for my hopes of finding a good Chinese wine. Then this happened.
The bottle was one big red flag. Chardonnay is capable of aging, but my limited knowledge on the subject told me it needed oak. As I understood it, this wine would have been best within 1-2 years, maybe up 5. Some of the best Chardonnay in the world can age a decade or more, but that’s something we associate with high dollar Burgundy, not bargain bin Chinese wine. Bottom line, it was a risky bottle. So what do you do? On one hand this may be that good Chinese wine I’ve been searching for, but on the other everything about the situation screamed, “Walk away!”
It was a difficult decision, so I reached into the furthest depths of my arcane wine knowledge and asked the clerk what he thought. “Do you stand by this wine?” Was my question.
“Would you?” He asked. “Look, that bottle has been knocking around the shelves for years. If you want it, I’ll sell it to you for half price just to get rid of it. It’s something my predecessor bought. If it’s no good, let me know and I’ll make it up to you.”
At this point, the bottle was now essentially risk free. Obviously, I bought it.
I strongly suspect the wine was past its prime, but not unpleasantly so. It had great complexity, flavors of cantaloupe and pear with herbal notes, the acidity was well balanced, and overall I found it to be a smooth and pleasant experience. I would absolutely buy another bottle from this producer.
I don’t have much knowledge of Chinese wine. In my two WSET certifications, it wasn’t even mentioned. The instructor went out of his way to ridicule South African Pinotage, he didn’t seem like the kind of guy to ask about wine off the beaten path.
According to the bottle, Dragon’s Hollow is produced in the Helan Mountain Appellation. This mountain range is in northwest China, right against a desert region that separates China from Mongolia. It’s part of the Ningxia region, which has developed a some positive attention for their wines.
I was able to find the producer’s website, though it appears they haven’t updated their site or social media accounts in about seven years, with the exception of posts on Twitter about the Voice and Friskies cat fishing scores. According to the bottle, the wine was imported by Broadbent Selections, but the label is not currently listed on their site. However, the Dragon’s Hollow website lists MHW as their importer, though they also do not appear to list the wine on their site.
To make a long story short (too late), I do not know if they are still producing wine. While it would be a shame to lose the only good wine producer I’ve found just as I discover them, the experience has encouraged me to continue looking for new wines and new wine regions.