Grape crusader inspires Asian wine drinkers
SIPPING a 2001 Bordeaux from Chateau Mont Perat, a bead of sweat trickling down his left cheek, Shizuku Kanzaki is suddenly overwhelmed with images of a turntable, guitars and Freddie Mercury.
"It's powerful," he says of the wine, "but it also has a meltingly sweet taste, with an acidic aftertaste that catches you by surprise. It's like the voice of Queen's lead vocalist, sweet and husky, enveloped in thick guitar riffs and heavy ADVERTISEMENT drums."
Since coming out of nowhere four years ago, this 20-something Japanese would-be sommelier has quickly become the most influential voice in Asia's wine markets.
In Tokyo, wine sellers monitor his weekly pronouncements before adjusting their stocks accordingly. In newer markets, such as Taiwan and urban China, his recommendations are turning the newly affluent into wine converts. And in Seoul, South Koreans now hold forth on "terroir" and how a bottle "marries" with a particular dish without blinking.
Never mind that Shizuku is a comic-book figure, the hero of a manga series, The Drops Of The Gods, created and written by a middle-aged Japanese sister-and-brother team. Asian readers scrutinise the comic hero's every sip, learning about wine in words and images that may seem strange to traditionalists.
"The images emerged from wines that we actually drank," said Yuko Kibayashi, 49, who created the series with her brother, Shin, 46. "It's like a game."
The Kibayashis, who write under the pseudonym Tadashi Agi, came up with the series while collaborating on another comic more than four years ago. During their work sessions, their spirits ran high as the wine flowed.
"We found ourselves looking for the drama behind the wines we were drinking," Shin Kibayashi said. "It started with one wine: 'This wine is definitely a woman.'"
His sister said: "Right, with black hair."
In a recent interview at Shin Kibayashi's home in suburban Tokyo, the pair said they have long been wine lovers – so much so that they rent an apartment just to stock their 3,000-bottle collection and pay for an earthquake-warning system to protect it.
Neither has any professional wine-tasting credentials; they say they are interested not in using the sommelier's jargon but rather in describing wine from the average drinker's perspective.
The Drops Of The Gods follows Shizuku as he learns about wine, allowing the reader to do the same. At the start of the series, Shizuku has rebelled against his father, a famous wine critic, by refusing to drink wine and working instead for a brewery. Suddenly, though, his father dies and leaves in his will a description of 12 wines he considers the world's best, comparing them to the disciples of Jesus.
Pitted against his adopted brother, who happens to be a sommelier, Shizuku must catch up in his knowledge so he can find the 12 wines mentioned in his father's will and inherit his father's vast cellar.
The comic – which appears every Thursday in Japan in a magazine called the Weekly Morning and has been compiled in 17 books so far – rapidly became a hit in East Asia, where people are still learning to drink wine. Even in Japan, the region's oldest and biggest wine market, annual per capita consumption is around two litres, compared with nearly 56 litres in France.
In Japan, wine sellers grab copies of the magazine, quickly showcasing a featured wine in their stores or on their websites.
According to Enoteca, a large chain, men in their 30s to 50s tend to ask for wines from the magazine, especially those priced around £15.
The comic's impact has been perhaps greatest in South Korea, where the Mont Perat and other wines like Emmanuel Rouget sold out after earning praise in its pages. On their first visit to South Korea last year, the Kibayashis were stunned to be greeted like stars and introduced to candidates during the presidential election.
South Korea had been closed to all alcohol imports until 1987, and only a tiny fraction of the population had tasted wine.
The comic thus serves as a wine primer for the nation, influencing tastes in sometimes unpredictable ways. In one example, there was so little demand for Burgundy that even top hotels did not bother stocking it. But after the comic extolled Burgundy's virtues, stores and hotels scrambled to secure stocks, which immediately sold out.