Following the origins of Jinhua ham and Shaoxing wine, where craft still relies on winter weather and human hands

In the middle of a trip to China, I happened to find myself in the region — and the season — where two of Chinese cuisine’s most famous ingredients are produced: Jinhua ham, with its deep savoury sweetness; and Shaoxing wine, the yellow wine that gives dishes their signature fragrance.

Though both are common in kitchens across Asia, their origins lie in centuries-old craft traditions that few outside China ever witness. The cities of Jinhua and Shaoxing, deep in the heart of Zhejiang province and located just two hours’ drive from each other, aren’t on your regular tourists maps. But, their top-quality products are tied to this landscape: The climate, winter winds and natural microbes of this region shape their flavours in ways that cannot be replicated elsewhere.

As a result, both Jinhua ham and Shaoxing wine carry protected geographical designation status in China: They can only be truly made here, in the conditions that gave birth to them.

In Jinhua, winter sunlight filtered through the windows of a curing shed as I watched workers massage salt into pork legs. In Shaoxing, I followed brewers through open-air courtyards lined with clay jars. It felt like stepping into a living archive, where weather, timing and intuition shape flavour.

It soon became apparent that while demand for these products persists, the traditional ways of crafting them may not be around for much longer. The artisans who carry this knowledge are ageing, and younger generations rarely choose these demanding trades. Industrial versions of these foods do not embody the character that comes from time, climate and human touch working in harmony.

My journey became not just about learning how quality products foods are made, but about witnessing traditions on the brink of disappearing — a reminder that even the most ordinary ingredients can hold extraordinary stories, if we catch them before they fade.

JINHUA HAM: AN ICON OF FLAVOUR  

Jinhua ham threads through Chinese cuisine as both backbone and highlight. It is simmered with chicken and pork bones to make superior stock, the quiet foundation of countless soups, braises and poached greens; used to lift simple stir-fried vegetables or noodle broths; and famously lends its essential umami to dishes like Buddha Jumps Over the Wall.

Historical records show that ham curing in Jinhua dates back to the Tang dynasty, indicating a history of over 1,200 years. For prized Jinhua ham protected by a designation of origin, a special breed of native pig known by its colouring — white with a black head and black rump — is traditionally used. Curing takes place only during the winter season as the low temperatures ensure salt has time to permeate the meat. The salted legs of ham are left to cure for 40 days, then soaked in water for a day and dried under the sun for seven to 10 days before they are hung in a fermentation chamber for at least six months.

Xue Fang Jiang is one brand that has been synonymous with top-quality Jinhua ham since 1860. Its current owner is Wu Xing Shen, 38, whose father acquired the formerly municipal government-owned brand in 1997. Xue Fang Jiang is not just popular with locals, who rely on it for gifting especially during festive periods; its ham has also won gold prizes at international expos including in Germany in 1905 and in 1915 in Panama.

They are one of the few producers that have resisted industrialisation, relying on principles such as salting meat by hand, producing only seasonally, maintaining a long fermentation period and not adding nitrates or other additives.

“Fewer and fewer people are doing it the traditional way,” Wu told me. “Many businesses have implemented factory automation to increase production. We can’t say it’s not good. But, there is a difference, compared to the traditional way in which we do it.”

Originally, he had no desire to take over the business, he said. “I thought that traditional ham curing was too difficult, especially for someone from my generation.” Eventually, a sense of duty and responsibility prevailed. After all, “We’ve been keeping this brand alive for so many years,” he said, citing the global recognition it has received and adding that it’s a part of Chinese identity.

Here, only three machines are used: One for cutting meat, one for vacuum packing and one to regulate humidity. Because of the skill required to carry out the tasks, the workers are all older, Wu said. “The oldest one is over 60. We had one who only retired at 80.”

He explained: “Right now, the biggest challenge is that it’s very difficult to hire new people, as young people don’t want to do this work. They don’t want to learn. It’s also hard work, physically.” Additionally, their ham is considered a seasonal product as work only takes place during the winter months. “That’s why many businesses are moving towards factory production”, using commoner varieties of pig and implementing technology that enables them to produce ham all year round.

In any case, there may not be much appreciation left for the handcrafted ham’s deeper and richer flavour. “These days, people are eating more processed and ready-made foods. Not many bother to make soup stock from scratch,” said Wu, acknowledging that while he may prize quality over quantity, it is not enough to keep heritage alive if the average consumer does not.  

SHAOXING WINE: USED IN KITCHENS TODAY; PRIZED ON BANQUET TABLES OF YESTERYEAR

Shaoxing wine is mainly used today for cooking, but the yellow wine actually has a long and illustrious history as the drink of choice of noblemen, royalty and poets.

Yellow wine, which has an estimated history of 3,000 years, evolved from rice wine with the use of wheat yeast, creating a deep and complex character. Shaoxing’s climate and water quality have always made for ideal terroir, and its wine gained fame down through the dynasties. In 1999, it became China’s first product protected by geographical indication.

To be called Shaoxing wine, it must be made in Shaoxing, using water from Jianhu, the lake at the heart of the city. Water that runs down from Kuaiji mountain and up from underground springs collects here, and is of exceptional quality.

Right on the lake sits Pagoda, a top producer and the first to export Shaoxing wine internationally. It is one of the few breweries that still carries out every step of the production process by hand, according to age-old methods.

Setting foot here feels like being on the set of a 1920s period movie. The brick-walled courtyards are lined with row upon row of clay jars. Inside, brewers in navy uniforms complete with Mao caps transport soaked glutinous rice in red wheelbarrows to be steamed. The cooled rice is then transferred into earthen vats, into which starters are added. Throughout the winter, the vats are kept cosy with straw mats so they ferment nicely, but brewers must uncover them regularly to stir their contents. After this fermentation period, the wine can be aged in clay jars for up to several years.

The most onerous part of the process is the periodic stirring. Checks must be carried out even throughout the night, which means the person on duty sleeps only thee to four hours. The mixture must be stirred to balance out any rise in temperature, which produces excessive carbon dioxide; if the temperature gets too high, the yeast dies and the wine is rendered flavourless. The process relies wholly on the sight, smell and hearing of master brewers with decades of experience.

Here, the average age of the workers is 45. Each October, a ceremony is held in which young apprentices are inducted into the craft by older brewmasters in anticipation of the first day of winter, which marks the start of winemaking season. Last year, only four apprentices were taken in.

But, 35-year-old Chen Zhi, who started his own boutique brand of premium Shaoxing wine in 2019, is one person who envisions a future of growth for the heritage wine. His single-vintage wines, under his label Dongqu, are produced here at the Pagoda facility. He selects only those with outstanding flavour taken from the middle of the urn, where the wine is of the best quality, and then ages them in jars for more than 10 years. There is no blending or addition of caramel colouring.

“If you want better taste, you have to take risks,” he asserted, the most important of which is experimenting with stirring at higher temperatures during the fermentation process, which eliminates weaker yeast and results in cleaner wine with fewer impurities. This is prone to failure, he shared: If not skilfully controlled, the entire vat of wine turns sour and spoils. The payoff, when success is achieved, is highly prominent creamy and nutty aromas; greater ageing potential, “like a child with a strong immune system”; and a wine less likely to cause a hangover when indulged in.

Although it is challenging work, Chen said: “Whenever I think of giving up, people ask, ‘When will new products be released? Can I buy them if I’m abroad?’ It’s friends and customers who have convinced me that creating the Dongqu brand and working in the Shaoxing wine industry is meaningful. Good things will always be appreciated, and I want good products to get the attention they deserve as they enhance people’s drinking and eating experiences.”

His efforts have paid off among connoisseurs who appreciate the story of terroir, nature’s rhythms and dialogue with time.

Dongqu has been launched in more than 200 Michelin and Black Pearl restaurants in China and served in restaurants as far away as Europe. In Singapore, it is served at high-end establishments like Odette and Jin Ting Wan. Its aromatic, earthy, umami and slightly sweet notes, somewhat resembling a dry sherry, is expertly paired with food, especially seafood dishes.

While this helps to showcase “how elegant and expressive Shaoxing wine can be, engaging in a dialogue with top-quality ingredients and culinary artistry”, it is “by no means the end”, Chen said.

“My expectations for Shaoxing wine are twofold: It should step confidently onto the world stage and became a calling card for the wisdom of Eastern brewing; and it should also gently reclaim its place as a staple on the tables of Chinese all over the world, a companion with many stories to tell. That’s what we are working hard towards.”