qilver wrote:
nice :hehe:
from the Wall Street Journal
Sake Brewers
Look to the Past
By ERIC FELTON
February 4, 2006; Page P12
Nearly 20 years ago, I had dinner at a small, very traditional Japanese restaurant in New York. At the end of the meal, a savvy friend ordered something I'd never heard of before -- nigori-zake. The waitress brought us little square, wooden drinking boxes called "masu" filled with a milky white drink. Sweet and thick, it could have been the sake version of Cozy Shack rice pudding. Japanese cuisine isn't big on dessert -- and doesn't need to be with nigori-zake as a closer.
It's something of a misnomer to call sake "rice wine." Though Japan's traditional drink is vaguely vinous in taste, it is made from grain at breweries, and is really more of a beer. Steamed rice is combined with a mold called "koji" that converts the starches into fermentable sugars. Add water and yeast and you get a mash that is ultimately pressed and filtered to produce a clear, refined sake.
But it wasn't always that way. For most of the history of the drink, brewers didn't bother -- or weren't able -- to filter out every last speck of rice, which produced a sake that was nigori, or "cloudy." Hundreds of years ago, most sake was nigori-zake, and it figured prominently in the country's economy. In medieval Japan, farmers paid their taxes in rice, much of which was monetized by being brewed into sake. According to historian Suzanne Gay, money lenders in big cities saw breweries as a profitable place to sink their excess cash. If you needed a loan in 14th-century Kyoto, you went to the guy making nigori-zake.
VERY GOOD
• Yaegaki $17
Silky and just sweet enough; classic nigori
• Rihaku's Dreamy Clouds $30
Elegant and highly refined for a rough-filtered sake
GOOD/VERY GOOD
• Momokawa's Pearl $10
Heavy and sweet, thick and coconut creamy
• Ohyama $16
Subtle and food-friendly, with a buttery finish
• Kurashizuku $34
A sparkling nigori-zake with surprisingly zing
GOOD
• Hyousho's Diamond Dust $30
Very dry for a nigori-zake
• Hitorimusume $18
Light to the point of being watery, with a bright taste
• Shirakawago "sasanigori" $22
Well-balanced, but just a little flat
• Yukiwatari $32
Interesting flavor, marred by pasty texture
There is one grade of sake even more rustic than nigori-zake, an unfiltered, chunky homebrew called "doburoku." But 100 years ago, Japan's tax man made doburoku illegal -- moonshiners do nothing to fill government coffers. Doburoku became furtive, but nigori-zake just fell out of fashion and largely out of production.
But now more and more breweries in Japan are making nigori-zake, partly as a way to revitalize the industry by delving into its traditions, and partly because many Japanese have reacquired a taste for it. It turns out there's a taste for nigori in the States, too, and now a surprisingly large number of nigori-zakes are available here. One of the largest selections can be found at San Francisco's True Sake ( www.truesake.com), which ships nationwide.
I sat down with Koji Terano, the head chef at Washington's Sushi-Ko restaurant, to do a blind tasting of nine bottles of nigori-zake I had assembled. We tasted between bites of crab cakes, flounder carpaccio, lobster soup and grilled beef to see which of the nigori-zakes worked with dinner, and which were best suited to before or after a meal.
We drank our nigori-zake chilled, which -- as with most good sake -- is the best way. Though Japanese traditionally might warm sake during the winter to fend off the cold, the notion that it is a drink best served warm is generally true only if the sake is cheap and harsh -- the sort you're likely to get from a vending machine in Tokyo.
The best food-friendly nigori-zake we tried was Dreamy Clouds from the Rihaku brewery. Elegant and dry (at least dry for a nigori-zake), the Rihaku could easily pass for a refined sake if you drank it with your eyes closed. Dreamy Clouds is well-balanced and fully rounded, without being heavy. It has good "umami," a taste that satisfies and makes you want to have more. Of the sakes we tasted, it was Chef Terano's favorite.
Nigoris from Ohyama, Hitorimusume and Shirakawago took the same subtle approach as the Rihaku. Though perhaps tending toward the bland, they were pleasant enough and went well with a variety of Japanese food.
Still, I was looking for the sort of indulgent and unapologetic nigori-zake that hooked me in the first place. I found it in a creamy nigori from Yaegaki, a brewery in Japan's central Hyogo region. The texture was silky, with elusive bits of pulverized rice; the taste was just sweet enough, and finished with the slightest sour whisper that kept it from cloying. This is a sake to save for dessert, and worth waiting for.
Yaegaki has been brewing sake since 1666. But as with most other breweries in Japan, it dropped nigori-zake as backward and rustic as the country modernized and urbanized. It wasn't until 1967 that the brewery started making nigori again; four years ago, Yaegaki started shipping it to the U.S.
The Momokawa Pearl nigori-zake is brewed by SakéOne in Forest Grove, Ore. Also a dessert brew, it is sweeter and coconut-creamier than the Yaegaki, and not quite as interesting. But at $10 a bottle, it was the tasting's best value.
The biggest surprise of the tasting came with the first sip of a nigori-zake called Kurashizuku, made by the Kiuchi brewery. The sake master, or "toji," captures some of the gas that burbles up as the sake brews, creating a sparkling nigori-zake. The carbonation had zip and zing, tightly packed bubbles that seemed to pop all at once. And perhaps they did just that: The fizz was an evanescent effervescence, vanishing before half the cup was drunk. Just as you might serve champagne before dinner, try the Kurashizuku as an aperitif.
Nigori-zake is no longer quite so hard to find. And that's a good thing, because nigori-zake isn't just an easy introduction to sake for newbies, it's also a taste of Japanese history.