Perspective

Illustrating AWR's Scoring Methodology: Chicken Rice and Asian Mums

Why we do not publish scores below 85, and what our scores actually mean in words you can feel and understand.

1 September 2026

Our panel critics rate individually before debating scores. (Photo Credit: Jaclene Liew)

Choosing the sommelier profession as a Southeast Asian brought me into a world I never thought I would dwell in. Here I am, deep-diving into the world of wine, tracing its history, studying its geography, and craving a deeper understanding of the sciences behind it.

It was a combination of subjects I was never strongest at, paired with forging personal relationships with people of different ethnicities and generations across the world. Together, they built a strong emotional attachment to how I came to view the world of wine.

As I moved into my second decade in this industry, I began to find distaste for points, scores, and processes that codified and simplified a world where a number or a medal could stand in for understanding a wine. More importantly, these scores could affect a winery's business directly.

It was with a great deal of thought, and no small amount of debate with myself, that I took up the role of Lead Founding Critic with Asia Wine Review.

AWR scores on a 100-point system, guided by criteria drawn from the 20-point method — the full reasoning behind that choice, and how we score, is laid out in our other piece on AWR's methodology. What this article is about is what those numbers actually mean, once you strip away the mechanics. Because a score only matters if people can feel it.

So as the score moves south from 100, we cap it at 85. Anything below that, we do not publish. Even knowing there are poorly made wines out there, we hold the belief that no one sets out to make a bad wine on purpose. No need to shame those who fell short.

The Bronzes: 85 to 89 Points

In school, 85 points was pretty much the bare minimum before your Asian mum disowned you.

So for us, 85–89 points represents the everyday, decently made wine. Balanced, typical of its grape and region, right where it should be — serving its purpose, offering comfort and familiarity. Asian mum looks at you, takes a deep breath, and moves on.

This is your everyday chicken rice, the kind you get around the hawker centre or the coffeeshop. You know it's chicken and flavoured rice, and it tastes like chicken and flavoured rice. The chilli sauce works, and they remembered the cucumber to make the plate look a little healthier and cool off the heat. Everyone gets it. No one complains, because everyone understands exactly where it sits.

The Silvers: 90 to 94 Points

Then come the 90–94 pointers. This is where your Asian mum wants you to be. You've got everything the 89-pointer had, such as the balance, typicity, purpose, familiarity. But now, there's a little more. An additional layer of flavour, an extra bit of winemaking nuance, a slightly finer polish. This is where Asian mum gives you the nod of approval.

These are the chicken rice stalls you bring your foreign friends to, the ones you tapao (i.e. takeaway) to your in-laws, the ones that come up in every debate about who does it best — because you don't want to look weak defending a lesser choice. Strong typicity of chicken and rice. Extra juicy, perfectly cooked chicken, warm and flavourful rice, a considered trio of chilli, dark soy, and ginger paste. Elevated. A whiff of premiumisation.

The Golds: 95 to 100 Points

Finally, the coveted 95–100 pointers. This is where Asian mum hopes you'll always be. Everyone sees who you are — the 89-pointer's reliability, the 94-pointer's evident hard work and intelligence — but you're also just different. Unique. A little special. Complex, layered, intense, and unmistakably you — your own technique, your own sense of balance and harmony, stamped into the result. You stand out in a sea of your peers. You spark conversation.

Asian mum looks at you with glossy eyes, a gentle smile, and speaks of you admiringly to the other Asian mums.

These are the special chicken rice stalls. The ones that match the elevated stalls in flavour and quality but stay true to their own style — and have built a cult following because of it. People swear by them. They speak passionately of the pros, and rarely admit to the cons. People have skipped responsibilities and travelled miles for a single plate. A true legendary stall, run by a true culinary master, with a legion of fans to prove it.

The intention of AWR, and the purpose of sharing the best of what this market has to offer, is crystal clear to me. Our format and methodology may never be perfect, but we keep working on it.

On a personal note, I will always remember my purpose as a sommelier: to serve as a bridge between the producer’s world and the consumer.

What took a farmer generations of hard work, commitment, dedication, and passion should never be simply distilled down to a number. Having the opportunity to carry that purpose into my role at AWR is one I aspire to fulfil with utmost dedication and transparency.

I believe we can grow the Asian voice in the world of wine.