Chińska moda na wina wytrawne

[Gość: Chink]

Wypijemy Europe i zjemy Ameryke!!!

MAO W GROBIE SIE PRZEWRACA

[Gość: piotr.ny]

ta szarancza to wszystko zje i

[Gość: Homer J]

wypije. Jak byscie ich zobaczyli w akcji to byscie sie ze
smiechu zwineli. Zjedza wszystko oprocz stolu.

P.S: Kij z nimi!!!!!

[Gość: meerkat]

Tylko czemu piję tyle win kalifornijskich?
To trawowe z Północnej Korei już im nie smakuje?

[Gość: chinczak]

Bo Bush placze ze maly export do Chin, w sklepach w Pekinie sa wina
australijskie, z Chle, californijskie,wloskie , hiszpanskie, francuskie,
wegierskie, rosyjskie, austriackie, niemiecki, a najwiecej chinskich,(z
winogron nie mowiac o alkoholu z ryzu, bo tu wogole nie ma zachodniej
konkurencjii) bo najlepsze. Woda barwiona z made in USA sprzedawana jest
proporcjonalnie w niewielkiej ilosci (bo to poiprostu niedobre)

meerkat z naiwnym pytaniem do chińczaka

[Gość: meerkat]

NIe rozumiem... To znaczy że wina kalifornijskie nie są MAde in USA?

Plagiacik, ten artyku to plagiat

[Gość: Chinczyk]

ha, ha Pan Crook jest nie do zdarcia. Kazdy go wykorzystuje juz kilka artykulow
czytalem na jego temat i zawsze to samo, te same wypowiedz, te same dane
widze ze autorka lacznie z cytatami sciagnela wszystko z artykulu ktory ukazal
sie bodajze w Time Asia (ponizej)lub NYT w 2002 roku, nie pamietam dokladnie.
Traktowal wprawdzie o schronach pod Pekinem czyli podziemnym miescie, ale
popatrzylo sie z drugie strony i wyszly wina, i wspaniala relacja z Pekinu.
Tekst ponizej zachowal mi sie w komputerze i nie pamietam skad pochodzi, ale
rowniez bazuje na pierwowzorze.

A tak na marginesie. Posiadanie w Pekinie prywatnych piwnic jest niemozliwe. W
centrum sa tam garaze, schrony, sklady i biura itp. W nowych domach takich
piwnic sie po prostu nie buduje. Co nie zmienia faktu, ze Crook ma takowa pod
domem swojego hutongu, dar po starym schronie, mozna powiedziec, ze jest to
jego prywatna wlasnosc, ale niech sie chwali dalej to mu ja wkrotce zasypia.

Jeszcze jeden blad podawanie danych za "Beijing Youth Daily" z artykulu z 2002
roku, wspaniala aktualizacja. Otoz Pani Mario pragne doniesc, ze do 3700
schronow ktore przekwalifikowano na schroniska i hotele dorzucam przynajmniej
jeden Schronisko Younth Hostels na Dongdanie (czy wie Pani gdzie to jest?),
czyli mamy juz przynajmniej 3701, a do 1270 sklepow dokladam kilka w okolicach
Fuxingmen . Podobnie z 30% wzrostem sprzedazy firmy Crooka. Guzik prawda bo
konkurencja nie spi i Crook notuje zanotowal spadek w tym roku. Wiadomosc z
pierwszej reki od konkurenji – Wlochow i Australijczykow. Kto tu jest
klamczuszkie Crook czy stare dane sciagniete ze starego artykulu.

Pozdrawiam Pani Mario i zycze ponizszej lektury, ale... przeciez chyba Pani ten
artyku bardzo dobrze zna, czyz nie??? J

Capitalism takes over Mao's hidden labyrinth
By GEOFFREY YORK
Thursday, November 28, 2002 – Page A1

He was a high-school student in Beijing, but the Red Guards had ordered him to
re-educate himself by toiling in a farm-equipment factory. They imprisoned his
British father as a suspected spy and placed his Canadian mother under house
arrest in Beijing, forbidding her to see her children. (...)

But entrepreneurs such as Mr. Crook are transforming Mao's underground maze
into a symbol of the rampant consumerism of the new free-market era. The bomb
shelters are being turned into hotels, nightclubs, markets, shopping malls and
restaurants.

Mr. Crook, 53, has become a merchant of fine wines in the city where his
parents were once imprisoned. His bottles of Château Lafite-Rothschild and
Canadian ice wines are favourites among China's nouveaux riches and emerging
middle classes. And he has discovered that the bomb shelters of his youth are a
perfect climate-controlled repository for 50,000 of his best bottles.

Across China, more than 3,700 hotels and dormitories and 1,270 shops and
restaurants have been created in former bomb shelters, according to an article
in Beijing Youth Weekly last year. In Beijing, a youth hostel has been
established in a bomb shelter below Wangfujing, the glitziest shopping street
in the city. An estimated 20,000 workers are employed in businesses in former
bomb shelters in Beijing alone.

Mr. Crook's main shelter, leased from the Beijing government, is concealed
beneath a 20-floor apartment tower. He opens a door and climbs down a steep
flight of stairs, his voice echoing eerily, past the thick steel doors and
whitewashed concrete walls, until he reaches the air-raid shelter, nine metres
below the surface. His new warehouse is a rabbit's warren of 28 underground
rooms and cubbyholes, each labelled with the country or brand of wine that is
stored within.

The bomb shelter is ideal because its temperature never varies from 18 to 20,
and it is neither too humid nor too dry. The rent is cheap, and he even has an
option to rent the adjoining shelter, connected by a passageway.

In a sense, the metamorphosis to wine cellar from bomb shelter is the story of
Communist China itself, and it parallels Mr. Crook's personal journey from
Maoist ideals to profitable capitalism.

His parents were devout socialists who settled in China to help build the
revolution. His mother was the daughter of Canadian Methodist missionaries in
southwestern China. His father was a British Communist and Spanish Civil War
veteran. Their son shared their dreams, if not their ideology, during his
teenage years in the turmoil of the Cultural Revolution.

"There was a euphoric feeling of bringing forward a new society of high ideals
of socialism and great concern for internationalism and the Third World," he
recalled. "It was an exhilarating time. 'Serve the People' was not just an
empty slogan, it was a genuine ideal."

More than 30 years later, "Serve the People" is merely the sardonic name of a
chain of Thai restaurants in Beijing, and Mr. Crook worries that Chinese
capitalism has become cruder and less humane than that of Western capitalists
who were once enemies.

He feels proud, however, that the American-owned company where he is managing
director, Montrose Food and Wine, has helped improve the lives of its 150
employees. Their wages are far above the national average.

Many own cars, many have been tourists overseas.

"What has happened to their lifestyle is revolutionary," Mr. Crook said. "It
changes their whole outlook on life."

He feels no bitterness over the imprisonment of his parents in the 1960s and
early 1970s. "I would feel different if there hadn't been this incredible
transformation in China in the past 30 years."

His wine sales in China are rising more than 30 per cent annually, and he
expects revenue of about $8.5-million (U.S.) this year. He sells a 1982 vintage
of Lafite-Rothschild for about $1,000 a bottle to hotels and restaurants that
cater to the new rich. The Chinese are even learning not to mix it with Sprite
to improve the taste, as they once preferred to do.

"China has a whole new class of people who are trying to define themselves and
their status," Mr. Crook said. "The new middle classes are very anxious about
their culture and credentials, and wine is a very good indicator of status."

The wine profits have helped him expand his traditional courtyard home near an
ancient canal in Beijing. During the summer he asked a worker to dig an
exploratory tunnel beneath the house.

He dug for 20 metres and found nothing, and they were on the verge of
abandoning the search. Then he stumbled on something: another bomb shelter from
the 1960s. Today it is Mr. Crook's personal wine cellar.