Drinking Traditions of Guangzhou: 6 Local Beverages That Define a City

Guangzhou sits on the Pearl River in humid, subtropical South China, where long summers, monsoon rains, and a seafood-forward cuisine encourage lighter, aromatic drinks. Locals pair crisp spirits and fragrant wines with wok-seared dishes, herbal soups, and late-night snacks.

Cantonese banquets favor toast-friendly baijiu, while family kitchens lean on rice-based brews and medicinal infusions tied to seasons and health. The result is a drinking culture shaped by Lingnan produce—lychee, osmanthus, and aged tangerine peel—and the city’s mercantile ties across the delta.

If one spirit anchors Guangdong toasting culture, it is Jiujiang Shuangzheng, a rice-aroma baijiu originating in Jiujiang Town, Foshan, just west of Guangzhou. Made from steamed glutinous rice and rice-based qu (starter), the mash ferments before undergoing a hallmark double-steaming distillation that yields an exceptionally clean spirit. The result is crystal clear, with soft rice sweetness, a faint floral lift, and a gentle peppered finish; alcohol typically ranges from 38% to 52% ABV. Historically produced in small workshops and later scaled for regional trade, it spread through banquet halls and seafood restaurants across the Pearl River Delta. In Guangzhou, it is poured at room temperature into thimble-sized cups for serial toasts at weddings, business dinners, and festival banquets. Its relatively light body compared with northern grain baijiu complements delicate Cantonese plates—think steamed fish with ginger and scallion or crisp-skin roast meats—without overwhelming aromatics. Travelers will find it on liquor lists at classic Cantonese restaurants and in specialty shops that focus on Guangdong spirits.

Guangzhou’s climate nurtures prolific lychee harvests, and that perfumed fruit becomes a distinctly southern wine when pressed and fermented. Producers de-stem ripe Lychee chinensis, crush the fruit, and conduct a cool fermentation to preserve floral compounds before clarifying and resting in stainless steel; alcohol usually sits between 8% and 13% ABV. The wine pours pale gold, with an unmistakable lychee-and-rose nose, hints of honey and tropical fruit, and a soft, off-dry palate balanced by gentle acidity. While fruit wines appear across China, the Pearl River Delta’s long lychee season (late spring into early summer) underpins local demand: chilled glasses turn up at riverside seafood tables and dessert shops when temperatures climb. Historically, lychee was a Lingnan emblem—imperial tribute fruit and a Cantonese festival motif—which lends this wine cultural resonance beyond novelty. In Guangzhou, look for it by the glass in casual restaurants during lychee season, or in bottles at boutique grocers near Litchi Bay, where the city’s own orcharding heritage is commemorated.

Known in Cantonese as tim zau, this low-alcohol fermented rice is both food and drink: steamed glutinous rice is inoculated with jiuqu (a mixed culture of yeast and molds), then saccharified and lightly fermented for a few days. The result is a spoonable porridge with a clear sweet liquid and a mild sparkle; alcohol typically falls around 1% to 3% ABV. Aromas lean creamy and lactic with a soft rice perfume, and many households simmer it briefly with ginger or poach an egg in it for warmth. In Guangzhou, jiuniang appears in dessert kitchens (tong sui shops) and home routines rather than banquet halls, especially in the cooler months when a warming bowl suits the damp climate. It also threads through traditional ideas of nourishment—lightly alcoholic, easy to digest, and considered gentle enough for convalescence or postpartum support when used appropriately. Travelers can sample it warm in neighborhood dessert cafés or as part of seasonal menus that highlight heritage Cantonese sweets.

Osmanthus rice wine infuses osmanthus blossoms—prized in South China for apricot-peach perfume—into a mellow rice wine base. Producers either co-ferment blossoms with glutinous rice or macerate fresh flowers and rock sugar into finished rice wine before filtration; styles span 10% to 18% ABV. Expect a pale straw hue, a heady floral nose with hints of stone fruit and honey, and a lightly sweet palate that finishes clean. In Guangzhou, osmanthus trees scent parks in early autumn, and the wine’s seasonality aligns with Mid-Autumn gatherings and pastry-making: a small glass pairs well with dim sum desserts, osmanthus jelly, or fruit platters after a seafood meal. While osmanthus wines have famous expressions elsewhere, the Lingnan use of blossoms in teas, syrups, and sweets makes this bottle at home on Cantonese tables. You will find it in dessert shops, in the fridge cases of specialty grocers, and occasionally as a pairing option at restaurants that emphasize heritage recipes during the fall bloom.

Chenpi—sun-dried and aged peel from tangerines grown in Xinhui (Jiangmen), southwest of Guangzhou—anchors one of Lingnan’s most distinctive digestifs. To make chenpi liqueur, producers macerate shards of aged peel in rice spirit or light baijiu with rock sugar and sometimes warming herbs, then rest the infusion for months until amber and aromatic; bottlings commonly range from 20% to 35% ABV. The nose is bittersweet citrus with camphor and wood spice; the palate is rounded by light sweetness, finishing with a pleasant, pithy bitterness. In Cantonese kitchens, chenpi flavors braises and soups; as a drink, it is sipped after rich seafood or roast goose to aid digestion—a practice that dovetails with traditional Chinese medical thought about damp-heat in the Lingnan climate. In Guangzhou, you can buy it at reputable traditional medicine pharmacies, specialty liquor stores, and bars that rework classic cocktails with local ingredients (a chenpi Old Fashioned is common). Always verify sourcing—older, well-aged peels are prized and explicitly noted on quality labels.

Guangzhou’s population includes many Hakka families, and their rice wine—often enriched with old ginger—has become part of the city’s home cooking repertoire. Base rice wine (fermented from glutinous rice and jiuqu) is infused with crushed mature ginger and sometimes goji berries or dates, then rested to integrate; finished alcohol typically sits around 15% to 20% ABV. The bouquet is vivid: spicy ginger, steamed rice, and a whisper of caramelized sweetness. Sipped warm, it provides an immediate warming sensation that locals consider suitable for damp, cool spells and for postpartum recovery when incorporated into dishes like ginger-wine chicken. While you will rarely see it highlighted on banquet menus, Hakka eateries in Guangzhou often cook with it, and some sell house-made bottles. For travelers, the best context is culinary—order a ginger-wine dish and ask for a small pour alongside, or visit a neighborhood restaurant whose menu notes “Hakka cuisine.” It is a window into how Cantonese and Hakka traditions blend in the Pearl River metropolis.