NOT long ago, tossing back tiny cups of hot sake to wash down sushi or tempura was about the cool ritual and the warm rush of alcohol. But today, artisanally produced sakes, served cold and savored slowly, have exploded onto the scene, extending far beyond Japanese restaurants. Sakes pop up in food pairings and tasting flights at tony restaurants, sommeliers wheel out carts with dozens of varieties, and $200 bottles aren't at all unusual.
Known as jizake, which loosely translates as "local or country-style," these elixirs with subtle, nuanced flavors rival wine in their ability to enhance the taste of food.
In the midst of this sake-sampling frenzy, though, sake may still seem to be one of the great mysteries of the East, even for the most adventurous of diners. Sake list descriptions can be confusing and vague, and few Americans have the vocabulary and references to understand the labels. Is that $160 Ginga Shizuku on the menu really worth $160? Or is that $18 junmai a bargain in waiting? When you're a sake neophyte, it's hard to say.
But learn a few terms, rely on knowledgeable sommeliers, and it's easier to make sense of it all than you might think. The rewards are tremendous.
Even the smallest kura, as sake breweries are called, have a finger on the pulse of changing consumer tastes. Many head brewers are experimenting with new yeast strains that can produce more focused flavors and styles. They've revived ancient rice cultivars, improved polishing methods and borrowed technological advances from sake mass producers. New sake styles -- whether ultra-dry or intensely floral or elegantly balanced to complement a wide range of foods -- are winning new devotees and moving jizake into fine dining rooms of every stripe.
All sakes are made from steamed and fermented rice. Jizake -- as opposed to futsu-shu (the mass-produced sake we used to sip hot) -- comes in four basic styles: junmai, honjozo, ginjo and daiginjo, each having sub-categories. A jizake can also be a combination of styles.
Junmai is pure rice sake to which no alcohol has been added. It is made from rice polished so that 70% or less of the grain remains. With fairly assertive flavors and less fragrance and complexity than sakes from more polished rice, junmai sakes have more body and are a good entry-level sake.
There are many styles of junmai sake. Those making use of special handling techniques or rice more highly polished than the minimum requirements are labeled tokubetsu junmai.
Junmai lacking ginjo (or premium) status, although theoretically not as refined, is viewed as more traditional and preferred in many instances for its rusticity. The Boa steakhouses in West Hollywood, Santa Monica and Las Vegas offer Suikagura junmai, which is made exclusively for Boa by a brewery in Japan's Fukushima prefecture.
"Most regular junmai are not as light or fragrant as daiginjo," says Tom Cardenas, Boa co-owner and sake expert. Instead, they have a woody nose and the smell of rice and alcohol. Suikagura has a buttery taste but finishes very clean so it pairs with steak and other grilled meats. "I look at junmai as the red wines of sake," Cardenas says.
Daiginjo, considered the ne plus ultra of sakes, literally means super premium. It refers to sakes brewed, in a process involving intricate steps, from rice that has had at least half of its exterior polished away, revealing its pure "starchy" heart. They require painstaking crafting, local mineral-rich spring water and unique rice strains.
These sakes are prized for their gorgeous light fruitiness and refreshing acidity, which sets off the flavor of mild raw fish and salads. They're also drunk as aperitifs, by themselves. They're so delicate and complex that it seems inconceivable that their floral aromas and gentle, nutty flavors were coaxed from the starchy centers of rice grains.
\o7Ginjo\f7, close to \o7daiginjo\f7, refers to premium sakes made using a slightly simpler process than \o7daiginjo\f7 and using rice polished so that 60% remains.
Sake pairings
RECOGNIZING the wine-like character of many \o7jizakes\f7, sommeliers across the country are giving careful consideration to how they might work as a match for their cuisine. At Providence, wine director Thierry Perez has paired an amuse of abalone-like, \o7yuzu\f7-accented whelks with a crisp, herbaceous Hakkaisan \o7junmai ginjo\f7. "There's no wine that sets off its flavor better than this \o7junmai\f7," Perez says.
Because \o7ginjo\f7 and \o7daiginjo \f7flavors are so ethereal, sommeliers often recommend them as aperitifs. Alessandro Sbrendola, formerly longtime wine director at Valentino, and now at Enoteca Drago in Beverly Hills, offers at least a quartet of sakes, primarily \o7daiginjo\f7, at any one time.
