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| Confessions of a Sake Aficionado |
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| Premium sake, definitely not the variety commonly served in sushi bars, is a shy, mysterious elixir worthy of obsession. Writer ADEM TEPEDELEN heads down I-5 in search of the good stuff. |
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| Give them too much rope and your obsessions can take you on some fairly ridiculous journeys. A person could come up with any number of good reasons to visit Seattle—a Mariners’ game on a sunny spring afternoon, a new exhibition at the Seattle Art Museum or, if you’re a music fan, a visit to the Experience Music Project—but going on a quest just to slake your thirst for premium sake might seem a little, well, obsessive. The truth is I wouldn’t have to occasionally succumb to these irrational whims if sake had caught on in the West the way sushi has in the last 10 years. Unfortunately, the sake that’s omnipresent in most sushi bars—the stuff they nuke in a microwave and serve piping hot—is definitely not worth making a trip to Seattle for. It has its charms and can warm your belly on a soggy winter night, but it’s not obsession-worthy. After all, it’s readily available in even B.C. liquor stores and quite inexpensive. What’s there to get worked up about? Premium sake, on the other hand, is a shy, mysterious elixir that hides in a coloured glass bottle behind an ornate label decorated with impenetrable Japanese characters. It doesn’t belong anywhere near a microwave oven and, in fact, tastes best if it’s served at room temperature or slightly chilled. Unfortunately, for the most part, there’s not much of it to be found in B.C. liquor stores. Seattle, with its more relaxed liquor laws—grocery stores can sell wine, beer and even sake—is a completely different story. There’s an abundance of premium sake to be found there. And, yes, it’s worth making a trip to Seattle for. Here’s why. Sake is a very simple beverage. It’s basically made with rice, water, koji and yeast. And you might be surprised to know that the sake that’s served warm in most sushi bars is actually brewed in the U.S. by Japanese companies. That "regular" sake is generally known as simply junmai sake, a term that means "pure rice," with nothing else added (such as additional amounts of alcohol, more on that later). However, here’s where it gets a little confusing. Premium sakes are generally called ginjo or daiginjo, and are differentiated by the amount of polishing that has been done to the rice before it is used in the brewing process. With ginjo, at least 40 percent of the rice’s exterior has been polished away, with daiginjo, at least 50 percent has been polished away. This removal of "impurities" is what gives premium sake its complex, delicate taste. Now to cloud the waters a little more, it should be noted that ginjo and daiginjo can both be either junmai (i.e. junmai ginjo, junmai daiginjo) or honjozo, which means a small amount of distilled alcohol has been added to help pull out fragrant and flavourful elements when the sake is pressed. Most premium sake sold in North America, however, is either junmai ginjo, junmai daiginjo or tokubetsu junmai ("special" junmai that has had 35 percent of the rice’s exterior polished away). You can find some honjozo ginjo and honjozo daiginjo, but it is not as prevalent and it’s been my experience that it will not say honjozo in English anywhere on the bottle; you’ll need some assistance finding it, unless you happen to read Japanese. Armed with the basic info about the different kinds of sake is a good start, but to really know what you’re going to get when you buy a bottle of premium sake or order it at a sushi bar, you also need to have a general sense of the flavour profiles. Sake expert, critic and author of three books on the stuff, John Gauntner, helped me out when I was trying to get a grip on all these new foreign words. He explained the differences this way: "Daiginjo is super-premium sake that is generally light and fragrant and brewed in labour-intensive ways. Ginjo is premium sake, that’s almost as high-grade as daiginjo. It’s generally not as light and fragrant, but is a bit fuller in its profile. Tokubetsu junmai is premium sake that’s fuller and heavier and often less fragrant than the other two types." So powers beyond my control dictated that I should travel to Seattle to satisfy a craving that I was unable to assuage in Victoria. Luckily I knew exactly where to go to once I got there: Uwajimaya. This local chain of Safeway-sized Asian grocery stores has an unmatched selection in Seattle (Larry’s Markets are a distant second, but worth checking out if that’s all you can get to). The best part is, Uwajimaya has a beautiful brand new store just south of downtown Seattle in the International District. Not only does it carry a great selection of sake, you can also find all manner of decanters and cups for drinking sake at home. Make your way to the sake aisle (well, OK, sake only occupies about half the aisle, but it occupies my full attention while I’m there) and behold the wonder of shelves and shelves of both imported and U.S.-brewed sake. It still overwhelms me and I’ve been there more than a dozen times and have stood and stared in wide-eyed amazement every time. Now, unless you’re fluent in Japanese, you may not only be amazed at the selection, you may be completely baffled by it. Nearly all of the imports’ labels are pretty well devoid of anything in English and the labels of many of the domestic sakes aren’t much help either. Here’s where I can help. Look for certain key words (junmai, tokubetsu junmai, ginjo, and daiginjo) and ignore others ("dry," "draft" and "refined") which are somewhat misleading and of little use to the novice. Uwajimaya has the good sense to keep its domestic sake all in one section. The brand names are all Japanese—Hakusan, Hakushika, Shochikubai, Ozeki, Gekkeikan, Momokawa—but they are all brewed in the U.S. Simply put, most sake brewed in the U.S. is not premium sake and it is inexpensive—a 750 ml bottle can be as little as $5 (U.S.). Part of the problem is that high-quality sake rice isn’t really grown in North America. However, each of the major U.S. brewers do at least make one ginjo and one tokubetsu junmai. Oregon-based Momokawa actually makes three different ginjo (Diamond, Silver and Ruby) and a sweet, traditional-style cloudy sake called nigori (Pearl). Momokawa is the only U.S.-owned domestic sake-maker and it shows in the company’s excellent ability to market to its products in the States. The eye-catching cobalt-blue bottles and informative labels (all in English!) help negate the intimidation factor. Their sake is damn good, too. It may cost a little more than the other domestic brands (about $9 U.S.), but it’s well worth it. Many of the domestic brands are available in 300 ml bottles—including Momokawa’s Pearl—that obviously cost just less than a 750 ml bottle, so that’s a good place to start if you just want to sample some different brands and styles. In addition, more and more imported brands are being sold in 300 ml bottles (at a higher price, mind you) and actually include some English descriptions and information. As I mentioned above, when dealing with imports look for daiginjo, ginjo and tokubetsu junmai on the labels (sometimes with the word shu after them, which merely means "wine"). Don’t be confused if you see ginjo spelled "ginjyo" or junmai as "Jun Mai," it’s the same thing just spelled a little differently. Imports will definitely cost more; a 720 ml bottle (the standard size in Japan) of high-quality daiginjo can run from $25-$40 U.S. However, there’s plenty of excellent ginjo to be had for around $20 U.S. My goal on this trip was to bring back a variety of tastes and styles, so I picked out a selection of four 300 ml bottles: Ozeki Karatamba (honjozo ginjo), Horin Gekkeikan (junmai daiginjo), Hananomai (junmai ginjo) and Momokawa Pearl (nigori). The first three are Japanese, the last, of course, is U.S. made. These would be enjoyed later with a plate of sashimi—since sake is a rice wine it’s not "supposed" to be eaten with rice, but that’s a suggestion I ignore all the time—with a group of friends. But first, I would not be leaving Seattle without first visiting one of my old haunts and, not coincidentally, one of the best places to eat raw fish and sip sake in Seattle: Mashiko. While there are other sushi restaurants in Seattle that have decent selections of high-end sake, it’s worth a bit of a detour to West Seattle (one of the city’s hip, upcoming neighbourhoods) to experience Mashiko owner Hajime Sato’s imaginative selection of sushi creations and to tap into his vast knowledge (and equally vast selection) of premium sake. He’s generous with his wisdom and is eager to talk sake if you can find a spot in front of him at the frequently crowded bar. Take advantage of the fact that you can order "shots" of every sake on the menu and sample a few different things. Write down the names of the ones you like and look for them at Uwajimaya. One must-try at Mashiko is Sato No Homare ("Pride of the Village" in Japanese), a soft, fragrant sake that is one of the most complex and pleasant I’ve ever tasted. It’s not available at Uwajimaya but, for some odd reason, I’ve seen it sold at the Metropolitan Market (formerly Thriftway) in West Seattle. The four bottles of sake I brought back from Seattle weren’t quite as good as the "Pride of the Village," but they satisfied my craving for premium sake. The junmai ginjo (Hananomai) offered a sweet explosion on the tongue with a slightly tart, dry finish. It was definitely the most untamed of the bunch. The honjozo (Ozeki Karatamba) in stark contrast was soft in the mouth with an assertive finish that brought to mind ripe tropical fruits. The junmai daiginjo (Horin Gekkeikan) was unusually bold and explosive and stood up to food well. It was a little sweet up front but was nice and dry on the finish. It seemed to just disappear from the tongue. We saved the nigori (Momokawa Pearl) for "dessert" and its creamy texture, higher alcohol content and brash sweetness left everyone wishing I’d brought back a bigger bottle. Which already has me thinking about my next trip to Seattle… ADEM TEPEDELEN WHERE TO GO: Uwajimaya, 600 5th Ave S, Seattle; (206) 624-6248; www.uwajimaya.com Mashiko, 4725 California SW, Seattle; (206) 935-4339; www.sushiwhore.com WHERE TO GO ON THE WEB: www.esake.com: lots of information and a good portal for other sake related sites www.sake-world.com: Sake expert John Gauntner’s own site |