California winemaker honors Chinese roots

In the tasting rooms and barrel cellars of California wine country, Chinese faces remain rare at the top, an irony given that Chinese laborers helped build the very foundations of premier US wine regions more than a century ago.

Han Han, recently appointed director of winemaking at Bear Creek Winery in Lodi, represents both a personal milestone and a historical reckoning in an industry that has long overlooked its Chinese roots.

"It's the spirit of 'eat bitterness' of those Chinese laborers that made what is California wine country today," Han said, using the translation of "chiku", a Chinese concept meaning to endure hardship for future reward. "They endured incredible hardship to build this industry, yet their stories have been largely forgotten."

The Chinese workers who terraced hillsides, dug irrigation channels and tended vines under discriminatory labor laws were erased from wine country's narrative of European vintners and American entrepreneurs.

Han's rise through an industry historically shaped by European traditions challenges this lingering Eurocentric hierarchy.

"When you look different, it's hard to break in," Han said of his 12-year climb from lab technician to director of wine making. "You have to be willing to step outside your comfort zone and be extroverted. At first, it's very difficult," he said.

Han's understanding of perseverance began long before he entered a winery. Born in Harbin, Heilongjiang province, he was 4 years old when his parents moved to Brookings, South Dakota, in the early 1990s, when Asian families were rare in the region.

His parents, in their mid-30s, enrolled at South Dakota State University to study mechanical engineering while working at a Chinese restaurant an hour away, the only employment they could find. No money, limited English, two engineering programs to complete while washing dishes and waiting tables.

"Think about it now," said Han, a father of two. "Seeing my parents do that taught me you can always work hard and get to your goal, even if it's difficult."

The family later moved to Illinois, where Han spent his teenage years navigating what he called the "identity crisis" many Chinese Americans experience. "After you grow up, you realize you can embrace both cultures and become more confident in who you are," he said.

Though his parents wanted him to be a pharmacist, Han pursued biochemistry at University of California, Davis, where a friend in the viticulture and enology program introduced him to an unexpected possibility.

"Coming from the Midwest without any experience or exposure to wine, I didn't think winemaking was a real job," Han recalled. "It sounded too good to be true."

Taking his friend's advice to "just try it out", Han sent applications to 20 wineries after graduation. One responded — Chateau St Jean Winery in Sonoma county. That single interview changed his trajectory.

"The thing about the wine industry is it takes a certain personality to want to do this, and the camaraderie is really special," Han said. "That's what got me hooked."

After working at Chateau St Jean and Conn Creek Winery in Napa Valley, Han joined Bear Creek Winery in 2012 as a lab technician, running titrations and analyzing samples. His goal was to move into actual winemaking within five years. He made it in one.

Rising from enologist to assistant winemaker, winemaker and then senior winemaker, he was appointed director of winemaking in November 2024.

But the journey wasn't without obstacles. The wine industry, Han said, is built on relationships and can be insular. "It's very much an industry where it's all about networking and connections," he said.

Starting without any prior connections or family history in wine, Han had to build his network from scratch. "I have a good network now, but starting off, it's very difficult and it's also very intimidating."

His parents' example of "eating bitterness" for future gain informed his work in vineyards and cellars. "As Chinese people, we always use the terms like 'chiku' and see things in long-term views, and the wine industry is the same way," Han said.

Han's bicultural background has become an unexpected professional asset. Bear Creek exports its Ironstone label wines to China, and Han's language skills have opened new responsibilities, including creating promotional videos in Chinese for their importers in China.

"Trying to describe wine in Chinese is something new — using Chinese in a professional setting," he said, expressing gratitude for his parents' insistence that he maintain the language.

When asked about his success, Han said, "I don't think there's anything super special about me. Anybody could do it. The most important thing is being willing to learn, being willing to do anything that's asked in terms of hard work, not turning down opportunities."

As the wine industry navigates uncertain times, climate change, shifting consumer preferences and economic pressures, Han applied the same perspective he learned from his Chinese heritage.

"Right now, things are tight, demand doesn't look very good. But we're not concerned about just right now. We're concerned about five years, 10 years down the road," he said. "This is where we are as an industry. It's just 'eating bitterness' for a little while, and then afterwards, you'll make it out."

Standing among the barrels at Bear Creek Winery, overseeing production that will reach tables from California to the world, Han hoped to fulfill his parents' immigrant dreams and the vindication of those Chinese workers whose contribution helped create an industry that excluded them.

"No situation is too difficult to overcome," he said, echoing the lesson learned from watching his parents persist through hardship. "That's how we approach things, and it works well for the wine industry."