Dry January: The Living Drinks of the Sobrellerie

Justine Knapp Published on 1/1/25 at 8:01 AM

In the depths of winter, at dusk, only the lights of shop windows seem able to warm up the Rue Ramponeau, in the 20th arrondissement of Paris. One of them frames a neat row of bottles, a constant feature of the eastern Paris substrate. Slender glass bottles stand out by their labels alone, in a flash of bold colors. In fact, an imperceptible difference at a glance separates them: some contain no alcohol.

Benoît d'Onofrio, known as sobrelier, opened his Sobrellerie in October 2024, declining the neologism. A place to eat and drink, notably around his fermented beverage confections, which he had previously reserved for the menus of culinary residences.

Moving into the small room towards the stainless steel kitchen, a series of jars stand side by side like penguins on an ice floe. A scotch announces: Squash - persimmon - chicory - rice - sweet clover. "Funny, one started fermenting faster than its neighbor, even though it's the exact same batch," observes Benoît, his childlike eyes level with the surface.

Benoît starts his fermentations without mother (unlike kombucha), grains (unlike kefir) or added sugar. Only the micro-organisms present on organic fruit and vegetables are put into action, according to the variations of the season or the conditions of the day. Immediately, the smell of pumpkin seeds fills every corner of the room from the oven, just about the only source of electricity used in production.

at the other end of the prism, the juicy non-alcoholic market, increasingly taken over by major brands, relies for the most part on costly industrial processes to deal with the dealcoholization of wines, beers and spirits.

Extraction, racking, pressing

To avoid producing alcohol in his beverages, Benoît keeps a close eye on the natural sugars that can initiate this transformation. The challenge is to dilute their ardor without losing taste. Benoît crushes by hand to gently extract aromas and matter, macerates, racking, pressing and gravity-filtering. So many borrowings from the world of wine, his frame of reference. From now on, discussions with his winegrower and winemaker customers will focus on technical subtleties. "I'm confronted with similar problems, with deviances such as volatile acidity or oxidation".

Nevertheless, the liquid rosé and then the second coppery one he pours into the stemmed glasses in front of him are not presented as alcohol-free wines. "I refuse to value a drink for what it doesn't have. That's the game of the de-alcoholized market, but my aim is not to make people think they're drinking wine. These beverages belong by the plate for what they are. Moreover, the sommelier is not historically bound to spirits, but to all beverages, from water to coffee."

Wandering aromas

on the back of the vintage bottles laid out on the table, the labels bring together a dozen or so ingredients, as if drawn at random from a hat (from muscat grapes to roasted bread to watermelon). The only purpose of detail is transparency: "Two markets are facing each other: the wine industry, which is struggling economically, and another that is banging on about alcohol, but is not obliged to detail the composition of its products, nor the quality of the raw materials,nor the bubbles.nor the quality of the raw materials, nor the artificial bubbles, nor the extravagant real sugar contents", says the sobrelier, convinced that there is room for everyone and no barbed wire.

He dips his nose into the first glass, and is moved: "Three months later, the beet has taken center stage, underscoring the evolving nature of the beverages. The cuvée has a vinous density and lingers with a vegetal bitterness perfumed with thyme and citrus.

next to it, the second beverage has a line of acidity running through it in a plump sip. It suggests warm spices, cinnamon, nutmeg and cardamom, even though none of these ingredients were used in this recipe based on apple, melon and herbs, all sourced from the same market-garden farm. Through fermentation, the elements melt aromatically or wander. "For example, the tarragon used can easily evoke licorice," he explains.

"The richness of a drink is not based on alcohol or sugar. It's the fermentation that matters, its ability to create an aromatic whole, a subtle acidity, a perception of deep salinity." And to take it further than grapes or other basic botanicals, a familiar concept in well-born bottles.