HONG Kong’s glitzy skyscrapers and narrow streets offer an array of some 1,300 bars slinging spirits from around the world. But one exception remains: Local Cantonese liquor has been overlooked for decades.

Kinsman aims to change that with cocktails that focus on traditional tipples such as papaya wine, snake wine and Yuk Bing Siu, a pork fat-washed rice spirit. Now in its soft opening phase, it marks the strongest move yet in the nascent revival of Hong Kong’s once-vibrant homegrown spirits culture.

In 2021, Magnolia Lab began producing and selling modern versions of throwback liqueurs, while Hong Kong gin has become a category unto itself. And over the past several years, award-winning molecular mixology hub Quinary was among the first to introduce Cantonese products on its cocktail list and currently features one such drink.

Yet Kinsman co-founder Gavin Yeung finds it shameful that while numerous bars reference the 1920s American-style speakeasy, none highlight local spirits. “I think for a place like Hong Kong, so rich in tradition and culture, that was severely lacking,” says Yeung.

Hong Kong in the early 20th century had at least a dozen family-owned distilleries near Sheung Wan, a stone’s throw from the Asian hub’s financial district. The spirits makers had migrated from nearby Guangdong province, then known as Canton, and they used culturally specific ingredients like deer antler and such botanicals as roselle (a type of hibiscus), jujube, angelica root and dried ginger, all which have origins in traditional Chinese medicine.

Among the most famous distilleries was Shiwan distillery (Shek Wan in Cantonese), which invented Yuk Bing Siu. In deciding to first macerate pork fat in rice wine a full hundred years before fat-washing booze became a trend – the distillery owner’s grandson Chan Yu-ngok took inspiration from the tradition of paying respect to one’s ancestors with offerings of the same. Rather than imparting a meaty flavor, the pork fat tempers the 29 per cent spirit with notes of milk, rose and pandan.

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With the rise of cheaper mainland imports of rice wine and baijiu and the growing popularity of Western beers and spirits in the 1960s, indigenous liqueurs started falling out of favour. By the 1990s, a wave of urban redevelopment in the old distillery buildings had left Hong Kong’s local alcohol industry in tatters.

Even for those involved in the revival, encounters with native Cantonese spirits were infrequent. “Growing up, I’ve mainly only seen it being used in cooking,” says Dimple Yuen, co-founder and head distiller of Two Moons Distillery, whose local award-winning gin sports notes of tangerine peels, Chinese almonds, coriander, green cardamom and licorice root. “Even now, it’s not that common to see my family drinking Cantonese liquor.”

Among the first to realise the category’s potential was Antonio Lai, bartender and co-owner of Quinary, which opened its doors in 2012 and counts itself among the small group of Hong Kong cocktail bars utilising Cantonese spirits. Nine years later, investment banker-turned-mixologist Dennis Mak and registered Chinese medicine practitioner James Ting launched Magnolia Lab – the first Cantonese liquor brand to emerge in more than a generation.

The label’s launch came in equal measure as a desire to protect historic traditions and create a product providing the health benefits of traditional Chinese medicine, says Ting. “We want to promote the beauty of Chinese herbs and also a Chinese version of amaro that everybody can taste, enjoy its complexity – and how it blends (in cocktails).” 

Bottled in stout brown-glass bottles that wouldn’t look out of place on an apothecary shelf, Magnolia Lab’s Roselle spirit, at 19 per cent ABV (alcohol by volume), is made with angelica root, jujube, dried ginger, roselle and other ingredients. Combined, they create a tart, sweet and woodsy taste that is said to help with digestion and lower blood pressure.

Magnolia, the stronger product at 29 per cent ABV, is made by infusing magnolia berries, sun-dried tangerine peel, mulberries, sandalwood and more than 10 additional botanicals. Together, they create an earthy aroma that captures the five primary flavors of sweet, salty, tart, bitter and pungent; according to Chinese medicine, they correspond with the five elements of nature and various organs in the human body.

“Hong Kong people are more aware of their own identity over the past few years,” says Ting. Increasingly, this has translated into sales inquiries and brand awareness for Magnolia as well. “This is a part of our own culture, our own history.”

For Yeung, Vancouver-born and Hong Kong-bred, reasserting the city’s vanishing identity is at the heart of Kinsman. “There’s been so many people who emigrated from Hong Kong because of the whole political situation, so it’s really important to refocus people’s attention on what makes our culture so unique.”

Mapping those traditions onto cocktail designs wasn’t easy. By prioritising Cantonese and Chinese spirits over Western ones, Yeung courted challenges such as supply, a lack of preexisting drink recipes to draw inspiration from and a lack of funding for brand sponsorship (often key to new bars).

“In the end, I believe that ultimately it’s worth it to shine a spotlight on this region’s neglected history in spirits making,” says Yeung.

Likely crowd pleasers include the Milk & Honey, which he perfected during guest bartending gigs over the past two years. Yuk Bing Siu serves as the base, mixed with local lychee honey, homemade milk liqueur and pineapple rum, and then topped with a cold-brewed milky, sparking oolong tea and drops of licorice root tincture. For a garnish, a piece of chewy milk candy – a bit of childhood nostalgia for anybody who grew up in the city – is clipped to the rim.

The house martini plays up crab roe-redistilled barley shochu against a backdrop of local N.I.P. gin and huangjiu, Chinese “yellow wine” that was historically used for steeping, boiling and steaming herbs.

The bar, located in the heart of the city’s expat nightlife scene and styled like a traditional, yet upscale “cha chaan teng” diner, seeks to tap into 1980s and ’90s Hong Kong nostalgia, which is evoked in such films as Wong Kar-wai’s In the Mood for Love. Beneath a hand-painted mural of the city skyline, some 30 types of Cantonese and Asian spirits line the back bar and tell a story all their own.

“We want people to rediscover a love for the city,” says Yeung, “whether that includes tourists or locals.”

Educating customers on Cantonese spirits will be key to this. Each cocktail will be served alongside a tasting glass of the liquor used in their cocktail, said Yeung. “We will explain where the distillery is based, what alcohol base the spirit is using, the botanicals that go into it and what flavors there are, too.”

Once Kinsman’s doors fully open on Jan 16, it will serve what Yeung has coined “modern Cantonese bistro food,” which includes a platter of lap cheong (dried sausages) and tong sui (traditional dessert soups).

“We’ll highlight Hong Kong craft breweries and kombucha makers and partner with local talents for our wine list,” says Yeung, citing ways to give back to the larger homegrown community. BLOOMBERG