Fake Booze Beijing: The Prevalence, Indicators, and Dangers of Counterfeit Alcohol

China now counts alcohol as one of its top 10 biggest import items and is currently the largest-growing spirits market in the world, seeing over 100 percent growth in 2015. To put this into perspective, someone out there bought – no judgment – the equivalent of over 6,650 Olympic swimming pools-worth of liquor last year alone. Increased economic means and a higher disposable income has led to this booming alcohol market, with more and more of China’s middle class foregoing local, cheap grain liquors – baijiu for example (god forbid) – imbibing instead on pricier foreign imports. But as consumers seek out recognizable brands for their reputation, quality, and safety, counterfeiters continue to release products that slip into the unassuming drinker’s glass unrecognized, nursing their own black market as profits peak. There’s no foolproof answer to a question that has been posed by almost every expat to have landed on Chinese shores – is what I’m drinking real? – but there are precautions that you can take to avoid harm as the arms race between genuine and knock-off products endures.

The first thing to be aware of is that are two major ways in which counterfeiters infiltrate the market. The first involves filling up empty bottles from genuine distributors with cheaper alternatives. The second involves making their own knock-off concoctions to put inside. Ethylene glycol, isopropyl alcohol, and methanol, are the chemicals most commonly substituted for “certified alcohol” ethanol, due to the similar inebriating effects, but unlike real alcohol, the debilitating side effects take hold abruptly and are much more severe. These can include nausea, headaches, dizziness, and in some rare cases, permanent blindness, kidney and heart failure, and even death. A good rule of thumb is that if you encounter symptoms that you would normally associate with being hungover before you’ve even left the bar then it’s more than likely that you’ve been ingesting fake booze. For this reason it’s good to know what to look for before sinking a potentially poisonous drink, a task easier said than done.

According to Kenn Bermel, owner and general manager at Sanlitun’s ol’ faithful The Local, the prevalence of fake alcohol has lessened in the past couple of years but systemic and accepted production of subpar products prevails. He recalls his shock upon learning from an official distributor at Tsingtao that “there are different grades, meaning that a huge percentage of bars in Beijing are not actually selling real [high grade] Tsingtao, and instead stock the lowest grade, which is bad for you, and costs RMB 80 for an entire keg.” This blasé attitude doesn’t stop at beer manufacturers, Bermel adds, with liquor suppliers also keen to offer reduced-price bottles in the belief that they’re doing venues a favor, a sign of how easy it is for bars to acquire bad stock either unwittingly or deliberately.

However, as customers it is often we that play dumb and are willing to forego potential health issues for a cheap shot. Bermel talks about the mental dichotomy that exists among foreigners in Beijing, a pre-Olympics hangover whereby visitors have come to expect the city to be cheap but instead find prices not dissimilar from those at home. Between minimum wage hikes and the exponential rise of rent, going out, especially for those adamant to stick to unadulterated products, just isn’t that cheap. That being said, reputable bars that make their own libations, especially beer, backed by bartenders that are emotionally and fiscally invested in the trade are on the rise in Beijing as knowledge and interest in drinking culture shifts from older male-oriented, Snow-sodden dinners and is bolstered by customer feedback via F&B apps and word of mouth.

While a too-good-to-be-true price tag is often the best way to spot a bad deal and upstanding venues do their part to curb the sale of fake alcohol – demanding fapiaos, returning refill-proof bottlenecks to distributors to prove that they’ve been disposed of – none of these are sure-fire means to avoid being sold a fake and aren’t easily corroborated by those of us on the other side of the bar. Josh Lally, product manager at Wudaokou’s longstanding student haunt Lush, suggests that customers be particularly wary of “bigger, higher-selling brands, like Johnnie Walker Black, or Corona when it comes to beer,” as these are often the focus of fraudsters, looking to shift in bulk, usually catering to clubs that recoup the majority of their costs through cover or table charges. When it comes to beer specifically, Rain of Fangjia Hutong staple Cellar Door adds that all bottles “must have the Chinese import label for tax purposes,” which also carry the beer’s best before date and “beers are often sold cheap when they’re sold closer to (or past) this date.” If a bottle lacks this white rectangular label (written in Chinese) then it’s best to steer clear entirely.

Each of the bar managers I spoke to had stories to tell about fake booze but they also all agreed that things seem to be improving. Likely frustrated by the lack of action taken by the authorities, which Lally describes as “similar to the way the government deals with most regulations: sometimes really heavily enforced, sometimes really slack, and periods heavy enforcement followed by a complete lack,” many bigger-name brands now will send brand managers to do spot checks on bars to verify their own merchandise, tackling the problem at the tap.

Sometimes, as with many facets of life in China, dodging a bullet can be as easy as exercising a little intuition, not always an easy hunch for newcomers to the city, but if there’s ever a nip of doubt, Bermel has one last piece of advice: “If something at all seems wrong with the drink [smell etc.] then don’t drink it and actually confront the management because those places that are on the up and up are most likely not trying to scam you and they’ll be thankful. If they aren’t then of course that gives you reason to question their product.” Even if you’re wrong, you’ll at least have your health to prove it.

More stories by this author here.

Email: tomarnstein@thebeijinger.com
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Photos: Ken