One of the things that makes writing a column about alcoholic beverages tricky for Mister Drinkies is that he fancies himself a "serious" drinker. By which he means he intends to comport himself with dignity and to accord every potent drop imbibed its deserved respect.
Responsible drinking means exercising discipline -- and if limited to a few drinks a week (as our doctors and attorneys say we should) then we probably shouldn't throw away our shots on appletinis and the soon-to-be-revived malt beverage Zima. (Unless that's what you like -- Mister Drinkies is profoundly uninterested in taste shaming.)
But if you are writing a column on alcoholic beverages, you will be expected to sometimes step outside your golden brown comfort zone and write about something other than bourbon, Scotch and Grand Cru Medoc. If you are writing a column about alcoholic beverages you will not only be expected to embrace the flavor of the month, but maybe even participate in its invention.
This is something that Mister Drinkies finds difficult, because he is set in his ways and opposed to neon-colored booze bombs designed to be sucked through a straw. Mister Drinkies was raised a certain way, and that way does not admit frozen margaritas or Vanilla Crown Royal. While intellectually I know there's nothing inherently immoral about wine coolers or other concoctions that seem designed to allow people who don't really like to drink access to the social lubrication properties of grown-up tipples, I recognize that I'm a prisoner of my culture.
That isn't the same thing as being a snob. A snob is the person who drinks only clear spirits neat while rolling his eyes at your Scotch on the rocks. Mister Drinkies has strict rules, but he applies them only to himself. You are perfectly free to wear cargo shorts to church if that's your pleasure.
BACK TO SAKE
This is a rather long way to explain why it's taken so long to get back to sake, the Japanese rice wine last written about here in 2004. Back then there was a minor sake craze, and there was some belief that sake could become the next big liquor trend in this country. Most of this talk was driven from desperation. Japanese sake makers were distressed that the "the drink of the gods" had developed an image problem in its home country. Young, hip and affluent Japanese had begun to regard sake as the downmarket drink of aging salarymen. In today's Japan, Scotch and beer have far more cachet than sake.
Most sake is consumed -- in this country, at least -- to evoke the imagined ambience of Japanland, a place of tittering geisha and intricate protocols of bowing self-effacement. We associate sake with the Japanese as surely as we associate wooden shoes with the Dutch. Intellectually we might doubt the authenticity of the kitsch totem, but we can't quite put it out of our heads.
But a couple of decades ago, some people thought that the sake bars that had popped up in New York and San Francisco might spread across the country, finding favor with hipsters and the sort of people who are always looking for novel buzz inducers. And while that never quite happened, sake's profile was raised a bit in this country. There are still enough sake joints in our major cities to support listicles proclaiming "the top 10 sake bars" in a given city, and some liquor stores manage to stock more than a couple of varieties. Still, most of us associate sake with Japanese (and, for some reason, Chinese) restaurants. A lot of us think it's meant to be served hot because we first encountered it as a complement to egg foo yung.
But it's not -- unless it is. While the hot sake encountered in middling Asian restaurants is generally pretty ordinary, some high-quality sakes are meant to be drunk piping hot. But most of what is imported into this country (Jizake, which carries the same connotation as "craft" sakes) are meant to be chilled, to allow the full appreciation of their complicated flavors. (In his book The Sake Companion, John Gauntner insists there are as many as 400 flavor components in some sakes.) But, to further confuse you, up until around 60 years ago all sake was drunk hot.
It's also not technically correct to refer to sake as a "rice wine," though that's a handy way to think of it. But rice isn't a fruit, and sake isn't distilled in quite the same way as wine, though it has certain wine-like characteristics: It's smooth-bodied, aromatic and, at 15 to 20 percent alcohol, just a little stronger.
What separates premium and super-premium sakes from mass-produced ones -- like jug wine -- is the way the beverage is made. In general, grains of rice are polished to remove the bran and other solids. Then the remaining starch is converted into alcohol through the work of yeast enzymes. The more polishing, the finer the flavor of the sake. For instance, so-called super-premium sakes -- daiginjo-shu -- are made from rice polished to remove 50 percent or more of the outer shell. Premium sakes -- ginjo-shu -- include those polished to remove roughly 40 percent of the outside. Regular sakes -- junmai-shu -- remove roughly 30 percent. But it's even more complex than that. There's a subcategory of daiginjo-shu called junmai daiginjo-shu that contains none of the distilled alcohol typically added to most sake.
So sake is yet another rabbit hole down which you might fall. And the good news is, if you're shopping around for an area in which you might become an expert, there seems to be plenty of room.
Mister Drinkies has only dipped his toe in the stuff, but thanks to the nice people at TY KU, an American company that brews sake in Japan, we recently cracked open three very pretty bottles of their products, namely their Junmai Infusion cucumber sake, which they say is the world's first cucumber-infused sake (suggested retail price $14.99 for a 720-ml bottle); TY KU Black, a Super Premium Junmai Ginjo ($29.99); and TY KU Silver, a Premium Junmai ($22.99).
Our methodology was pretty simple. We chilled the bottles, then poured samples for friends with an interest in adult potables. They made some comments, which we neglected to write down though we got the gist. And the gist was, somewhat unsurprisingly, that we like sake. It is a complex and nuanced drink with a welcome lightness. But what was interesting is that almost all of us preferred the cucumber-infused sake to the more expensive varieties.
This despite Mister Drinkies' bias against infused anything -- most infused vodkas present as abominations and we're generally suspicious of masking agents. But TY KU Cucumber was refreshing and crisp, with just a hint of sweetness. Comparatively, the Black was spicier with a little bit of an almond flavor, while the Silver seemed a tad drier.
And while they all were fine when sipped like wine, I imagine that some of the specialty drinks that TY KU suggests on its website (tykusake.com) would also be pleasant. It might be helpful to think of it as another white spirit to go with vodka, gin and silver tequila.
Still, Mister Drinkies has trouble endorsing sake cocktails. They just seem wrong. But if you must, here's a classic tested recipe:
VODKA SAKETINI
Combine equal parts cold ginjo sake and cold lemon-infused vodka (such as Absolut Limon) with a splash of triple sec in an ice-filled shaker. Shake well and strain into martini glasses. Garnish with lime wedges or lemon peels.
pmartin@arkansasonline.com
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Style on 03/05/2017