Hot off the success of his last book, Baijiu: The Essentials, baijiu expert Derek Sandhaus has published Drunk in China: Baijiu and the World’s Oldest Drinking Culture (University of Nebraska Press; November 2019). This new title focuses in on Chinese drinks and how they have influenced nearly all aspects of life in China throughout its history – as long as there has been a China, there has been a Chinese drinking culture. In addition to traveling the world spreading baijiu knowledge and promoting his own baijiu line, Ming River, Sandhaus also manages the site www.drinkbaijiu.com, which contains all of the basics for understanding baijiu and also has a large and growing database of cocktails for the adventurous mixologist.

Renowned orange wine expert and award winning writer Simon J. Woolf tells the full history of this ancient wine and its modern struggle to gain acceptance in Amber Revolution: How the World Learned to Love Orange Wine (Interlink Books; Fall 2018). While the focus is mainly on orange wine history and culture in Slovenia, Italy and Georgia, the book also includes profiles of 180 of the best producers from 20 countries worldwide and is crammed full of all the information you need to find the best orange wines worldwide. We spoke to Woolf about the relationship between natural and orange wine, how Georgia fits into this story, the future of orange wine and much more.

One of the many charms of daily French life is the ability to eat and drink well without needing beaucoup bucks. The best place to put this in practice is at a bar à vin. Since one never drinks alone in France – literally and figuratively – these bars always offer something to snack on. Sometimes, it’s simply a plate of cheese or charcuterie to soak up the wine. Other times there are more substantial plates that alone are worth a visit. The unpretentious Les Buvards, one of our favorite bars à vin in Marseille, exemplifies the latter – an impressive feat since the kitchen is barely wider than a wine barrel.

Anise-based liqueurs are as ubiquitous as outdoor terraces across the Mediterranean. Long prized for its medicinal benefits, anise is the ideal antidote to the region’s sweltering temps, especially when sipped in tall glasses with refreshingly chilled water, as is common practice. From Turkey’s rakı to Italy’s heavily sweetened sambuca, each country has its own recipe. France has two, anisette and pastis, with the latter having licorice root thrown into the mix. Born in Marseille, pastis is the republic’s most popular aperitif, but both beverages are poured at bars around town, whose shelves are stocked with bottles from a variety of producers. There’s one brand, though, that deserves special attention: Cristal Limiñana, one of the city’s last distilleries.

In the latest installment in our Book Club series, we spoke to Alice Feiring about her new book, Natural Wine for the People (Ten Speed Press, 2019), a compact illustrated guide to natural wine. While this category is becoming enormously popular, especially in the U.S., there is still a lot of confusion about what exactly natural wine is, where to find it and how to enjoy it. This easy-to-understand primer sets the record straight. Feiring is the author of four other books, including For the Love of Wine: My Odyssey through the World’s Most Ancient Wine Culture, which was the subject of a previous CB Book Club Q&A. A prominent figure in the natural wine movement, she also publishes the natural wine newsletter The Feiring Line.

Imagine the most extraordinary location for a vineyard that you can. Got an image in mind? Well, we think Cantine dell’Averno, a four-hectare vineyard in Pozzuoli, has it beat: Not only are its vines growing inside the caldera of a volcano that is theoretically still active, but they also surround the ruins of a Greek temple. We are on the shores of Lake Avernus, a volcanic lake that formed thousands of years ago and is part of the wider Campanian volcanic arc, which includes the Phlegraean Fields. It’s a place shrouded in an aura of mystery – legends and tales about this somewhat eerie body of water have been passed down since antiquity.

It’s a crisp and cold winter morning in Alentejo. We are in Mora, a one-and-a-half-hour drive from Lisbon, to visit Susana Esteban’s winery, a very simple adega where her award-winning wines are made. Susana welcomes us at the door and leads us inside, where, sitting among the barrels, we taste her wines. They leave a strong impression on us, and not just because of the early hour – the wines have a distinct personality, one that’s formed on the vine. Yet when we peek outside, there are no vineyards in sight, only oak and cork trees. That’s because Susana grows her grapes in Serra de São Mamede, a mountain range in Portalegre, one-hour east of Mora and close to the Spanish border.

Ènek poured a rosy-colored splash of wine into our glasses, avidly explaining how this particular Aladasturi grape vine was meticulously cultivated in its native west Georgia. In a tasting ritual uncommon in Georgia, we swirled it, sniffed it and savored the flavor as it caressed our tongues. Here in the “cradle of wine,” the land where viticulture is believed to have originated 8,000 years ago, wine is customarily poured into a water glass and “tasted” in one long drag, until drained. But in this cozy cellar in the heart of Tbilisi’s historic Sololaki neighborhood, seven winemakers have come together to offer an alternative convention to winemaking and consumption. They call it Vino Underground, but we call it wine heaven.

It is impossible not to look at the history of Quinta de Covela, a winery in Portugal’s Douro Verde region that has faced misfortune, gotten some lucky breaks and survived tricks of fate, as a masterpiece of literature, one that could easily be adapted to the cinema. In fact, the area around the winery already has ties to both genres: It inspired A Cidade e as Serras, the last work of José Maria de Eça de Queiroz, the 19th-century writer who is one of the towering figures of Portuguese literature. And it was here that famous Portuguese film director Manoel de Oliveira bought a large swath of property to prove himself a worthy candidate for the hand of Maria Isabel Carvalhais, the woman who would become his wife.

Naked, free, wild, raw, true, clean… natural wine has many names, except its most obvious one, just plain ol’ wine. There’s no makeup or camouflage, nor is there any sort of artificial interference – chemical fertilizers or industrial yeasts, to name a few – in the vineyards or during the vinification process. Some consider this wine to be a passing fashion, but it has more than a solid foothold in its homelands – France, Georgia and, to a lesser extent, Italy – and continues to conquer palates in new countries. One of those countries is Spain, where natural wine is proving to be a popular alternative to industrial vino, which must adhere to regulations set by the Denominaciones de Origen (D.O., the organizations that oversee the mainstream wine regions in Spain) and has a limited and fixed personality often based on artificial yeast and processes.

Amyndeo, a mountainous region in northwestern Greece, is a prime spot for producing wine – in fact, it’s one of the most important wine regions in the country. Located between two peaks, Vermio and Voras, this area is known for cold winters with enough rainfall and snow for the vines to withstand the relatively dry summers (usually sans-irrigation). Four surrounding lakes, the largest being Vegoritis, contribute to the mild semi-continental climate. In fact, this entire area used to be a lake thousands of years ago, which has resulted in a sandy top layer of soil and limestone subsoil, an auspicious combination that ensures the ideal drainage of rain water and delivers natural nutrients and elements to the vine roots.

The wine harvest is about timing. The time it takes for a grape to ripen to optimal sweetness, the moment they are cut from the vine, the days or weeks that each mix of crushed grapes and juice sits in fermentation tanks or oak barrels. Timing is everything and to get it right, you not only have to be obsessed with accuracy, but also have a passion for perfection. Alejandra Cordero, the winemaker at Tres Raices, a winery in Dolores Hildago, located in the central Mexican state of Guanajuato, has both. Wearing a black lab coat, her hair in a tight bun and her hands stained ruddy red with wine, Cordero is testing the sugar levels of the latest batch of Tres Raices wine. This year’s harvest went fast. There was little summer rain and the grapes matured quickly. They started cutting in July and were finished by the start of September. Timing was vital.

We used to spend a lot of time in western Georgia’s Samegrelo region when breakaway Abkhazia was our beat. Zugdidi, the regional capital, was our overnight stop coming and going across the river to the disputed land in the north. Our local friends would welcome us with Megrelian hospitality, decorating their tables with hearty and spicy local fare that made us purr. The wine, however, with its sweet barnyard vinegary tang, was a different story. We assumed that this subtropic-like land, with its year-round lushness and mandarin, hazelnut and overgrown tea fields, was hostile to good wine grapes. We didn’t realize back then that the practice of making sugar-wine was not exclusively a Megrelian thing, but a Communist legacy practiced throughout the country.

The oldest city in Western Europe, once the hub of a trading empire that connected Macau in the east to Rio de Janeiro in the west, Lisbon today feels staunchly Old World European, a sleepy town of nostalgic storefronts and scenic churches. But that’s only its façade.

A visit to Varsos, a culinary landmark in Athens that looks much the same as it did 60 years ago, is like traveling back in time to one of the city’s grand patisseries of the 1950s. The venue, which is still in the hands of the Varsos family who originally opened it, is one of the most famous of Athens’ old-style coffeehouses and is the only one that has kept its traditional charm over the last several decades. Varsos was established in 1892 in central Athens, but it is the wonderfully old-fashioned Kifisia location, to which the patisserie moved in 1932, that has made the venue famous. At the beginning of the 20th century, Kifisia was a holiday destination for rich Athenians, and their stately summer mansions still dot this beautiful yet ever-expanding northern suburb, which is now popular with professionals, families and expats.