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CNA
10 hours ago
- Business
- CNA
From mass-market to artisanal: These makers are reclaiming the soul of Korean soju
For decades, soju has been known as Korea's cheapest drink; ubiquitous, industrial and almost invisible in its character. Walk down any street in Seoul and you'll find it: rows of bright green bottles stacked in restaurant fridges, recycled in alley bins, or clinking in baskets under metal tables. At just under S$2 (US$1.55) per bottle (an average 360ml bottle at a major supermarket costs about 1,400 won or S$1.30), soju represents one of the most consumed spirits in the world. Jinro Soju has topped Drinks International's annual list of best-selling global spirits for years, notching up sales of 65 million 9-litre cases in the 2013 list. Soju, Korea's national drink, is everywhere, and yet, in the ways that matter, it is often unseen. For most, soju is a social lubricant, a symbol of release – not a beverage that is typically savoured. It's functional and affordable, taken in shots rather than sips. The clear drink is often miscategorised – not quite a wine nor spirit, as its cheapness has come to define it. But historically, soju was seasonal and ceremonial, brewed slowly with three ingredients – rice, water and nuruk (traditional Korean fermentation starter) – and aged with intention, and rooted in place. So, behind the fluorescent hum of the convenience store lies a quieter story, one that predates mass production and marketing budgets. In kitchens, cellars and purpose-built distilleries, a handful of makers are returning to soju's origins. Not by rebranding it for a luxury audience or mimicking Western spirits, but by refusing to let its true form die out. Among them are two very different producers – Sulsaem, a modern distillery committed to reviving traditional methods, and Samhae Soju, the sole inheritor of a spirit once revered in the Joseon Dynasty. Their paths are distinct – one born from contemporary rediscovery, the other from legacy – but their philosophies are surprisingly aligned. In a market driven by speed, scale and sameness, both brands have chosen to anchor their work in memory, method and meaning. THE RETURN TO INTENTION The soju that most people know today is not just the result of technological progress – it's a product of war, policy and cultural adaptation. In the aftermath of the Korean War, South Korea faced devastating food shortages. To protect rice supplies, the government banned the use of rice in alcohol production from 1965 to 1999. In its place, the manufacturers turned to imported starches like tapioca or sweet potatoes, which were fermented into high-proof ethanol and then diluted with water to create what is now known as diluted soju. This new form of soju was designed for mass consumption. By the 1970s, as Korea began its rapid industrialisation, soju became the drink of the salaryman, the factory worker, the exhausted patriarch returning home after 14-hour shifts. It was consumed at pochangmachas (outdoor street food stalls) and barbecue joints, always in a hurry, always in rounds. Rather than a celebration of craft or terroir, soju became synonymous with a ritual of stress release, a coping mechanism embedded in the rhythm of modern South Korean life. By the time the rice ban was lifted in 1999, diluted soju had already become entrenched as the default. The spirit's identity had shifted entirely – from artisanal to anonymous, from mindful to mechanical. The result? A national palate shaped by efficiency, trained to forget that soju, too, once carried the complexity of place and time. 'We grew up thinking that's what soju is,' said Shin Ji-yeon, general manager at Sulsaem.'But it's not. There's so much more behind Korean alcohol.' Instead of viewing soju as a product to modernise, Sulsaem saw it as something to protect. Their process begins with 100 per cent Korean rice, traditional nuruk and slow fermentation, before double-distilling the resulting cheongju and ageing it in onggi (porous clay jars used in Korean fermentation for centuries). 'We aim to create well-crafted soju using traditional methods and Korean ingredients,' Shin said. Unlike industrial soju, which prioritises speed and scale, their goal is to highlight the depth and character of the original spirit, and to restore soju's integrity. Where Sulsaem is building something new from old foundations, Samhae Soju is continuing something that never fully disappeared. At its helm is Kim Hyun-jong, a quiet and charismatic brewer who didn't set out to become the steward of Seoul's historic spirit – he simply didn't walk away from it. 'I came across the original master by chance,' Kim told me in his small tasting room in Seoul. 'He was a designated intangible cultural heritage holder in Seoul, a sojujang. He taught me the way of Samhaeju – and when he passed, I carried it on.' Samhaeju, the aged rice wine from which Samhae Soju is distilled, dates back to the Joseon Dynasty. Its name – literally 'three hae' – refers to its unique brewing schedule: fermentation begins on the first hae-il (pig day in the lunar zodiac), with two subsequent batches added on later hae days, spaced 12 to 36 days apart. This triple-fermentation method, known as samyangju, yields a complex yakju that is then aged at low temperatures before being distilled into a clean, high-proof soju with a soft, round mouthfeel and lingering finish. The process takes months and the yields are low. The ingredients – Korean rice, aged nuruk, and well water – are carefully selected. 'What we are doing is extracting the essence of a refined rice wine,' Kim said. Kim is one of the only known distillers still producing Samhae Soju in accordance with the original lunar brewing calendar. 'I didn't revive this – I've simply continued what my teacher passed on,' he explained. FERMENTATION AS PHILOSOPHY Despite their different settings, both Sulsaem and Samhae share a common scepticism of modern fermentation. Kim is particularly pointed: 'Industrial alcohol uses one strain of yeast. But Korean nuruk is different. It contains hundreds of microbial strains, and each one has a different role in fermentation, depending on temperature, humidity, and how the nuruk is made. It's something you can't replicate in an industrial setting. It's like bread these days – it just rises but doesn't really ferment.' Kim continued: 'Modern soju looks right, but it lacks the depth that comes from proper fermentation.' At Sulsaem, this fermentation manifests in a meticulous attention to ingredient sourcing. Only Korean rice is used. No flavourings, no shortcuts. 'Even the water matters,' Shin said. 'We think about how every element – rice, nuruk, water – shapes the soju's character.' Both distilleries face the same question: If traditionally distilled soju is so much better, why don't more people drink it? The answer is, of course, economics. Commercial soju is cheap because it is made quickly and at scale, often using imported starches, industrial ethanol, and additives. A bottle of green-label soju might retail for less than S$2. Traditional soju, by contrast, takes months to produce, uses only domestic ingredients, and is often made by hand. A single bottle might cost anywhere from S$12 to S$70 or more. Even among curious drinkers, few know how to appreciate the layers these distillers work so hard to preserve, much less pay for them. Kim is direct about the challenge. Traditional soju, he explained, is made with domestic Korean rice and aged through a long fermentation and distillation process – all of which drives up the cost. In contrast, commercial soju is made from imported starches or ethanol and produced at scale. 'It's hard to compare the value,' he said. While many consumers baulk at the higher price of traditional bottles, Kim believes it reflects the ingredients, time, and care that go into each batch. Still, he acknowledges that for those accustomed to neutral, diluted soju, traditional styles can be a shock to the palate, often described as too unfamiliar or too strong. Shin echoes the same sentiments. 'The most difficult thing is the public perception that soju should be cheap, and that most consumers don't understand the difference between diluted and distilled soju.' Will traditionally distilled soju ever replace its commercial cousin? Unlikely. But that's not the point. What matters is that it continues to exist – and that people know the difference. The hope, shared by both Kim and Shin, is modest but clear – that soju, like sake or Scotch, can one day be tasted with intention, discussed with nuance, and valued not for how fast it disappears, but for how long it lingers.
Time Out
03-06-2025
- Business
- Time Out
Sommelier Day: 4 professionals who expand the boundaries of the craft
More and more people are talking about the role of the sommelier, but there are still those who think it's only about recommending wines in a restaurant. Spoiler: it goes way beyond that. Today, the sommelier is a strategist, an experience curator, and often also an artist, journalist, screenwriter, or content creator. They move fluidly between wineries, dining rooms, social media, and the press, and their work no longer just involves uncorking bottles: they also think, communicate, and connect. On Sommelier Day, we talk to four professionals who cross this craft with other passions. Because when wine meets writing, art, or mixology, new ways of telling stories, creating, and enjoying emerge. Maya García is a visual artist, consultant, and sommelier Maya García was born in Venezuela, where she studied Fine Arts. While attending university, she began working in restaurants to afford her art supplies. That's how she discovered her love for gastronomy and, in 2006, completed her sommelier training in her country. After nearly a decade working front of house, she moved to Argentina and shifted to the commercial side. For ten years she was part of the team at Mil Suelos, the winery of winemaker Alejandro Sejanovich, where she led the domestic market. Her background in the arts also enabled her to lead brand development and label design for wines such as Flora, Floralia, Cielo Arriba, and Buscado Vivo o Muerto. Her world is the world of ideas. In her creative space, Maya mixes and explores techniques such as collage, watercolor, sumi-e, embroidery on paper, and botanical art with pressed flowers. Her pieces navigate internal worlds from the organic, the dreamlike, and the symbolic, constructing a visual language charged with emotion, memory, and intimacy. Today she works as a consultant in communication, branding, and commercial strategy for small wine producers, and together with a group of colleagues she is developing an agency dedicated to gastronomic and communication curation for bars and restaurants across Latin America. For Maya, the intersection of art, wine, and narrative is not only possible: it is inevitable. Sorrel Moseley-Williams is a journalist and sommelier Sorrel Moseley-Williams knew from the age of seven that she wanted to be a journalist. But when opportunities arose to explore the gastronomic world and the dimension of wine joined the picture, she realized she also had to train professionally. She began sommelier studies in 2013 and since then both professions have harmoniously coexisted. She writes about wines and alcoholic beverages for international outlets such as Decanter and Drinks International, and is executive sommelier for the Niño Gordo group in Buenos Aires. Her work as a journalist takes her to unique corners of the world — South Korea, Hong Kong, Costa Rica, Italy — and this year she began advising Bogotá's restaurant El Chato on service and pairing. She also produces wines under the label Sorol Wines with winemaker Mauricio Vegetti since 2021, as well as Dill & Tonic (a ready-to-drink gin) and Dill The Gin, a London Dry, since 2020. Since 2022, she serves as academy chair for 50 Best Bars in South America. In 2024 she founded Agencia 22, a platform gathering a talented group of sommeliers to boost gastronomic and beverage communication in Latin America. 'It's a luxury and a privilege to travel the world weaving a network of valuable links between sector professionals. And it's beautiful to amplify the message of good drinking and good eating,' says Sorrel, with her generous, critical, and deeply pleasure-connected outlook. Lucas Rothschild is a bartender, sommelier, and beverage specialist 'What if we combine books with cocktails?' a journalist friend proposed to Lucas Rothschild. In that blend of aromas and stories, Lucas discovered a new way to view his craft. Trained as a bartender, he found in sommelier skills a tool to deepen his work: a way of thinking about flavor from balance, context, and origin. He merges his experience in mixology, coffee, and wines with a particular passion for fermentation. That quest led him to work at prominent bars and restaurants such as Kona, Costa 7070, Anchoita, Chila, and CoChinChina (#22 on World's 50 Best Bars 2024). He also collaborated with Francis Mallmann and lived in Madrid, where he was sommelier at Fun Fun and bartender at Santería. Today, he is part of the commercial team for Dill & Tonic and SOROL Wines, and also works as a gastronomic consultant. His way of observing what's in a glass — whether wine, coffee, or spirits — is shaped by a holistic and cultural perspective, considering origin, history, and the people behind each drink. For Lucas, understanding what you drink is also a way of living. 'The more we know, the more we share, the wider the circle grows, and creative perception expands exponentially,' he explains. Mariana Gianella is a playwright, screenwriter, and sommelier Mariana Gianella began her professional journey in the performing arts. Playwriting and directing led her to writing, and that pursuit of crafts connected to sensitivity and nobility brought her closer to wine. In 2017, she trained as a sommelier at CAVE, and soon after began writing about gastronomy.
Forbes
30-04-2025
- Business
- Forbes
Wine Of The Month: A Springtime Riesling
A springtime Riesling with a venerated history Schloss Johannisberg Hailing from Germany's Rheingau region, this single-vineyard Kabinett comes from a venerated winery where only Riesling has been cultivated since 1720, earning its claim as the first such winery in the world. Schloss Johannisberg translates to 'castle on St. John's Hill' so named for mentions of Johannisberg vineyards dating to 817 and then later, the site of a Benedictine monastery in the 1100s. By 1720, the entire domaine was planted with Riesling and it is marked as being the first closed (think cloistered) Riesling vineyard in the world. By 1971, after centuries of political and wartime conflict, as well as being coveted by royalty and heads of state, the domaine became an exclusive single vineyard. Wine critic Robert Parker has called it 'one of the greatest Riesling terroirs on the planet wine.' And this year the UK industry magazine Drinks International called it on of its 'Most Admired Wine Brands for 2025.' Vines are cultivated on 50 hectares, on a quartzite hill in front of the Taunus mountains, south-facing on a 45-degree slope (steep!). The weather here is so fair that when the sun is out, says managing director Stefan Doktor, 'we can play volleyball until 10 p.m.' Otherwise, he says the terroir is 'fine and unique, giving a clear definition of the wine.' The 2022 Rotlack Kabinett is a very refined expression with that clarity of fruit and unhampered by any manipulation. Only 20 percent is aged in wooden barrels, produced from the domaine's own oak trees, and the wine is further softened by five months on the lees. The nose is marked by tangy lime, peaches and a bit of welcome petrol—just enough to let you know this is the real deal—as well as ripe stone fruit such as peaches. The palate is slightly off dry. Kabinett is made from fully ripened grapes and is the least sweet (or most dry) of the four levels in the Prädikat scale (the domaine web site includes a helpful color-coded schematic for understanding its quality levels here). The Schloss Johannisberg Kabinett deftly balances the sweetness of ripe fleshy fruit with acid and structure to deliver a finely finessed wine that, despite that refinement, shows energy and intensity. It is fresh, lithe and adaptable to many spring and summer meals, espcially now with those tender green shoots in the market. Or, it's highly drinkable on its own. And, at 11% abv, you can drink all day (but drink responsibly, of course!) Fun fact: At the heart of the winery is the 'Bibliotheca Subterranea,' holding about 25,000 bottles in the 900-year-old abbey cellar. The oldest is from 1748. Doktor noted that Thomas Jefferson once visited the winery in 1793 and though he had a good impression of the wine, noted they were too expensive to buy. You can have this bottle for around $49.
