Big in Japan: An Ode to Sake

I really love sake.

Now, I know exactly what you’re thinking. Sake?!?! That cheap, indiscernible clear-liquid that they sell at the supermarket for six dollars a bottle. That foul-smelling, foul-tasting garbage that wasted college students love dropping into their beer glasses to the tune of ‘Sake Bomb!’ That gut-wrenching, eye-watering swill of a beverage that they serve at cheap Japanese restaurants across North America.

Well, let’s just say that you don’t know sake like I know sake!

Forget everything you think you know, and allow me to explain to you why real sake is like nothing you’ve drunk before.

Sake (???), which is pronounced sa-kay (not sa-key), is a traditional Japanese alcoholic beverage made from rice. Proudly regarded as the national tipple of Japan, sake is commonly referred to in Japanese as nihonshu (?????????) or quite literally ‘Japan alcoholic beverage.’ To the Japanese, sake is revered as the most exalted of beverages, much like the French swear by fine wines, or like Americans swear by a cold Budweiser.

Commonly referred to in English as ‘rice wine,’ sake is actually more like rice beer. Unlike wine, which is made by the single fermentation of fruit (typically grapes), sake is produced through the multiple fermentation of grains. While beer consists of the holy trinity of barley, hops and malt, sake consists simply of rice.

Mind you, it’s not just the sweet delicious nectar itself I love, but the refined drinking culture that surrounds it. As with most things in Japan, there are unwritten rules that need to be followed.

For starters, sake is typically served in a special flask known as a tokkuri (徳利), and is poured into a tiny cup known as a choko (猪口). Interestingly enough, good sake is nearly always served either cold or room temperature as heating the beverage is a way of masking the undesirable flavor of a cheap brew. With that said, hot sake hits the spot on a cold winter day, even if it isn’t exactly the most traditional way to drink it.

As foreigners quickly learn in Japan, it is considered rude to pour yourself a glass of sake (or any alcohol for that matter). Instead, it’s good form to refill the glasses of those around you, and wait for others to repay the favor. If you want to acknowledge a friendship, or pay tribute to someone of lower status, you can also raise someone else’s glass and take a small sip.

Also, never underestimate the power of a loud kampai (cheers, かんぱい)!

Although sake has somewhat of a less refined status in the West, that doesn’t mean that the drink doesn’t have its own associated drinking culture. As any college kid can tell you, balancing a choko of sake on a pair of chopsticks straddling a pint glass before slamming the table with your fist and yelling ‘Sake Bomb!!’ is the best way to start (or end) a night quickly.

Of course, there are more sophisticated ways to drink sake, such as in an expertly mixed cocktail.

Here are some of my favorites:

Saketini

2 ounces of dry sake
Splash of dry vermouth

In a shaker over ice, add the sake and vermouth. Shake well and strain into a chilled martini glass. Garnish with grated lemon peel.

Sake Blossom

2 ounces of nigori (unfiltered) sake
1 ounce of orange juice
1 teaspoon of fresh lemon juice

In a shaker over ice, add the sake, orange juice and lemon. Shake well and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a curled lemon peel.

Lychee-infused Sake

720 milliliter bottle of sweet sake
3 cups of peeled and pitted lychees

In a glass pitcher, combine the sake with the lychees, and refrigerate overnight. You can serve the infused sake straight up or as a base for a cocktail.

Getting thirsty? Go wild in the bar, and feel free to post some recipes here.

** Special thanks to Flickr users rick (sake bottle), est_bleu2007 (amazake) and rick (sake cocktail) **

Big in Japan: The Subtle Art of Eating Blowfish (Part III)

This is the third and final installment in a three-part series on the subtle art of eating blowfish. If you’re new to the feature column ‘Big in Japan,’ be sure to check out Part I and Part II before reading below.

Still hungry for blowfish? Thought you might be.

Much like choosing a good pizza joint or a romantic spot to sip a cocktail, your fugu experience can vary depending on the restaurant. Excellent fugu will have you begging for a second plate. Poor fugu will have you gasping for your last breath.

Truth be told, most fugu-eating takes place at specialty restaurants, which are fairly easy to identify even in the urban jungle that is Japan.

(Case in point – you don’t have to speak Japanese to find this popular spot in Shibuya).

How do you know that a restaurant is serving fresh fugu? Simple.

Blowfish are kept alive in large aquariums prior to serving. If you ask politely, a chef will sometimes let you choose your fish, and then slice it up in front of you with a fugu-hiki (literally fugu-pulling; ふぐ引き), a specially designated knife that is only used for filleting blowfish. Think it’s annoying when someone leaves peanut butter on your butter knife? How about a splash of neurotoxin on your steak knife.

If you really want to sample the full culinary spectrum of fugu, you’re going to have to spend between ¥10,000 and ¥25,000 (US$80 to US$200). The centerpiece of this meal is fugu sashimi, which is usually extremely thinly sliced, and arranged in a decorative pattern on a porcelain plate. Although first-time consumers of fugu are surprised to discover that blowfish is rather tasteless compared to fish such as tuna or salmon, aficionados focus on the delicate texture and the elegant presentation.

Of course, a good fugu chef will dress up the dish with homemade soy sauce as well as a small dab of freshly grated wasabi to cleanse the palete and clear the sinuses. A great fugu chef will dress up the dish with a citrus-accented ponzu dipping sauce as well as a small dab of poison to numb the palette and clear the mind.

Accompaniments to fugu sashimi include a variety of blowfish organs and parts that you probably didn’t think were edible. Blowfish fins can be flash-fried in hot sesame oil, and then served in a carafe of hot sake. Blowfish skin can de-spiked, crisped over a hot flame and then sprinkled over a fresh salad of white radish and cucumber. Blowfish testicles can be eaten like grapes – although it’s something of an acquired taste, the flavor is reminiscent of salty milk. Delicious.

Well, that brings us to the end of the three-part series on the subtle art of eating blowfish. If I haven’t yet been able to get your mouth watering and your stomach growling, stay tuned as I’ve only just begun to unlock the vast treasure trove of Japanese cuisine.

** Special thanks to Flickr user schorschi_san for snapping the shot of the fugu restaurant near my apartment **

Sake in Outside Magazine

Everyone’s got
their favorite poison. Myself, I pretty much gave up the hard stuff years ago, and stick to beer or wine if I decide to
indulge. But I’m also a big fan of sake. I’m no connoisseur, mind you, but I like a good sake every so often when I can
get it.

Seems the folks at Outside Magazine are also into the rice wine thing. Take a look at Outside’s ode to sake.

It seems more Americans than ever are drinking the Japanese beverage, some of them are doing so out of the
belief that it’s somehow more "pure" or because there are health benefits associated with it. True? I have no
idea. But the article here says that an article in the Journal of Agricultural and Food Chemistry suggested recently
that organic acids in sake can protect the skin against UVB rays. Which might explain….oh, never mind. But if it’s
true and you’re up for a little experiment, you might consider taking a bottle along on your next trip to the Bahamas.