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 The Study of Sake
A sake sommelier dispels the myths surrounding this often misunderstood beverage, proving it’s not just for sipping with sushi. By Michael Kaplan
Based on the many confounded clichés that surround sake, it’s easy to believe that it is best served hot, only suitable as an accompaniment to sushi, and that it lacks complexity. Sommelier Blair Bushey has heard all of this before, and, armed with a 50-bottle arsenal at the elegant Okada restaurant in the Wynn Las Vegas, he likes to disabuse diners of those silly notions. Considering that the process of conversion includes sampling a tasting menu from Okada’s versatile Japanese kitchen — accompanied by sakes that pair with ingredients such as caviar, king crab, Kobe beef, mitake mushrooms, and lobster — it’s a learning curve that I am more than happy to navigate.
Sake, it seems, is long overdue for an image makeover. The popularity of this beverage is on the rise. From 2002 to 2006, the gross value of sake imported from Japan to the United States doubled.
Bushey got his extensive sake training at Okada and has earned the title “sake sommelier.” The first thing he tells me is that if I know nothing else about sake, I should know enough to order a ginjo or a daiginjo; those are the highest two of three sake grades and refer to the degree to which the rice, from which sake is brewed, has been polished. Polishing is a process that files away the outer surface of the rice. The more polished a sake’s rice is, the fewer impurities there will be in the beverage. as with an artichoke, Bushey tells me, the best part of a rice grain is its center. High-grade sakes are produced from a higher percentage of centers.
Additionally, he points out, nobody should buy a bottle of sake with the intention of cellaring it. “Sake ages in the barrel, and that’s fine,” says Bushey. “But once it is bottled, you want it to be as fresh as possible. After opening a bottle of sake, you can keep it refrigerated for five days, but not much longer than that.”
When it comes to serving the beverage, forget about those little white cups that are ubiquitous at local sushi dens, and opt instead for stemware; it’ll allow you to enjoy the bouquet. Also, if your sake is served warm, you might think twice about drinking it. “With a few exceptions, sake gets heated up because heat helps to mask unpleasant tastes,” Bushey says. Most good sakes, he adds, “are so delicate that you kill them when you make them hot. Among the exceptions [in terms of quality sakes that are made to be served warm] is Hatsumago, which is really strong and intense and good. It mellows out as you heat it up.”
 For our purposes tonight, there will be no hot sake at all. And, for the most part, chilled sake is what Bushey advises diners to drink. “Sometimes I have to convince them,” he says. “But by the end of the meal they’re thanking me.” Because most sake is served by the glass or carafe — instead of by the bottle, as wine is — you can usually get a taste before ordering.
Bushey begins the festivities at our table by pouring glasses of Mukune, which is made in Osaka and has a hint of saltiness to it. This works well with our first course, American Kobe beef tataki with a ponzu dipping sauce. “I chose Mukune because it has good acidity,” Bushey says. “It’s also bold enough to hold up against the fattiness of the meat and the deep-fried garlic that comes with it.” He’s right. The end result here is a high degree of smoothness and body that you would not expect to find in sake, contrasting beautifully against the intensity of the food.
Bushey attributes the particular flavors of various sakes to interactions between yeast and water — the latter of which is a point of pride for sake producers, nearly all of whom opt to use water that comes directly from their particular regions. As a result, sakes from different prefectures around Japan each have very distinct characteristics; product from Hiroshima, for example, tends to have a soft flavor, and if the point of origin is Nigata (known as the Napa Valley of Japan), it will be more refined. “Chiyonosono, which I will serve to accompany your Japanese Kobe beef with foie gras, comes from an area that has big runoffs of snowy water,” says Bushey. “It travels down the rocks, into a stream, and is full of minerals. As a result, sake from there is dry and has good body.”
Later, when he pours the drink to accompany platters of buttery rich meat, Chiyonosono serves as an able stand-in for a big red wine. But, as Bushey himself confides, “Usually when Japanese people come in and have Japanese Kobe beef [which is fattier and more flavorful than its American counterpart], they pass on the sake, and order a Napa cab or a bottle of Bordeaux.”
A more natural pairing comes with a selection of sashimi, which includes kampachi, tuna, and oh toro. The last of these is fatty tuna, one of the most sublime slices of raw fish that you can order. Eaten alongside sips of Nanbu Bijin, it’s a revelation of taste. While this sake works well with all the fish, against the melt-in-your-mouth richness of oh toro, Nanbu Bijin’s fruitiness is exceptional. “Sometimes you want to get a contrast going,” explains Bushey. “I view it as being similar to adding a sauce. When you enjoy the very clean flavors of fish, you want to set it up against something that is a little less clean tasting.”
Though sake obviously pairs well with sushi and sashimi, Bushey explains that there are certain considerations to keep in mind. For starters, he says, “You need to think about whether or not you are having spicy sushi. A good match for that would be Ichinokura Himezen; it’s sweet, which is generally the preference for spicy foods. Do you use a lot of wasabi? If so, you’ll want something refreshing; I suggest that you go with Otokoyama. And, finally, where do you stand on soy sauce? Some people use a little, some people use a lot. If you’re going to add salt, you want to maybe have an almond undertone in the sake. For that I would recommend Kanbara.”
In the case of the sushi course that we’ve ordered, Bushey needs to dance around avocado, seaweed, and vinegared rice. “I chose something a little aggressive,” he says, pouring from a bottle of Jizake Tenzan. “It has caramelization, which mellows out the wasabi and plays off of the rice. I don’t want something that will be perfectly clean, and I definitely don’t want a straight rice flavor.”
A bit later in the meal, confronting a course of lobster ceviche, topped with caviar, Bushey must deal with a symphony of complex and distinct flavors, so he’s trying to match up rather than go against the riot of maritime notes that define this dish. He chooses a sake called Urakasumi. “It has a creamy quality to it,” he says. “Urakasumi has a lot of body and holds up nicely alongside the richness of the lobster and caviar.”
A good, simple way to cheat your way through pairings — for sake and for wine — is to follow this old motto: If it grows together, it goes together. That helps explain why sake from the prefecture of Nigata, which is near a fishing port, works well alongside seafood. The style of the beverage was defined centuries ago and, most likely, enjoyed with locally produced ingredients. So it makes sense that Bushey would opt for Hakkaisan, a junmai ginjo sake from Nigata, to go with an order of king crab.
Making things a little trickier, though, is the fact that this particular crab happens to be swimming in butter, an ingredient that is not found in traditional Japanese food.
Asked how he paired for this dish, Bushey takes a breath and rolls his eyes. “It was tough,” he acknowledges. “But I started out with the knowledge that this is a heavy recipe. So I wanted to go for something that would be aggressive and cleanse the palate and have some acidity and citrus. I figured that a little bit of tartness would be welcome because the dish is kind of sweet.”
Sweeter still is a dessert of lime sorbet and raspberry mousse. Bushey is clearly having a bit of fun — and maybe showing off a little — when he accompanies it with a sweet, sparkling sake. It’s Hou Hou Shu (aptly enough, the name translates to bubbling bamboo), which Bushey likens to a demi sec (essentially dessert champagne).
After I mention to Bushey that I sometimes like to top off a good dinner with a glass of scotch or single-barrel bourbon, he rises to the challenge and produces a sake that I might appreciate. It’s called Genshu. It’s an exception to the sake rule in that it’s best enjoyed on the rocks, and can easily make for a fabulous summer afternoon refreshment. “Because of its high alcohol content — about 20 percent — you cut Genshu down with ice, just as you would a bourbon,” explains Bushey. “Drink it neat and it’s hot on the palate. With a little bit of ice, though, it becomes just light enough for you to roll it around on your tongue and really taste the fruit and florality.”
After having sampled a fair bit of the Okada sake list, I have one question left for Bushey: What is his personal favorite? “Myoka Rangyoku,” he answers without hesitation. “They import only 150 bottles into this country, and it sells for at least $750 per bottle. It’s like a really good wine: You take a tiny sip and the sake just saturates your tongue. The flavor stays with you forever. You can expect a four-minute finish.” He gets a dreamy look in his eyes as he adds, “I would drink it every day if I could.”
SAKE 101 BASICS
• Don’t age sake; drink it within five days after opening.
• Store it cold, and refrigerate once it’s opened.
• Don’t simmer your sake — serve it cool.
• A sake set is nice, but stemware is best.
• When pairing sake with food, remember that if it grows together, it goes together.
WELL-STOCKED WITH SAKE
These restaurants offer an extensive sake list.
San Carlos, California (San Francisco area):
OZUMA RESTAURANT
(650) 637-9793
New York:
SAKAGURA
(212) 953-7253
Chicago:
SUSHI SAMBA RIO
(312) 595-2300
Los Angeles:
GEISHA HOUSE
(323) 460-6300
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