I remember Portland’s Cartwright Brewing in 1982. Winemaker Charles Coury, Oregon’s first brewer, was on the verge of failure, mostly because he was too recent on the scene, brewing and trying to bottle the wrong beer. He was a born-again Christian. He held a brewery blessing as he brewed his last brew. He “pre-sold” the whole brew to we members of the Oregon Brew Crew homebrew group. A number of us each purchased a case of that beer, in advance, for $24. We wanted him to succeed. He had that brew blessed and we all wished him well, to little avail. The county sheriff auctioned off those cases on New Years Day of 1982. Coury’s prayers were, and were not, answered. A few of us had picked up our cases early in that last week, but the county sheriff auctioned what was left for a dollar a case to pay off Coury’s county tax obligations.

Coury’s prayers were answered several months later, when that beer fell to an infection he had not foreseen. Believe it or not, that infection produced one of the best Belgian brews I’ve ever tasted! His prayers had indeed been answered, but not in any way to help him. He probably never actually tasted his best brew since it matured some time after he had closed shop. God had been good to him, but not in the way he’d wanted. Moreover, most American beer drinkers were not yet ready for the Belgian revolution that we have going these days.

My last several brewery blessings were vastly different from Coury’s. These were SakéOne sake brewery’s (Forest Grove, OR) annual blessings by an American Shinto priest from his Tsubaki Grand Shrine of America in Granite Falls, WA.

Rev. Koichi Barrish (a handsome, bearded Caucasian Shinto priest trained in Japan) appeared in full Shinto regalia: white kimono, purple apron, black patent wooden slippers and the traditional tall black hat. He was there to perform the Shinto purification ceremony Shobaihanjokikan. Although he speaks flawless Japanese, he made some astute comments in English concerning his religion, indeed, and religion in general.

He began the ceremony by explaining the various entities, especially kami-sama or head of earthly powers, which he invited into the outdoor area around the saké brewery building, where he had assembled a beautiful, but temporary, wood altar. It was the traditional Shinto Okuda, with a mirror (no wooden images of gods in that religion) as its centerpiece. There were offerings of rice, saké and special salt on a shelf below the altar. He was armed with a harai-gushi—a broom-shaped purification wand.

Rev. Barrish told us that there is no Shinto ceremony conducted without saké on the altar. Indeed, he characterized saké as entertainment for the Kami, or divine powers of heaven and earth. Now there’s a concept I find agreeable.

We offer God an alcohol libation as entertainment! I have worked for several Christian organizations, and despite the first miracle of Christ, they never offered any entertaining libations at our staff meetings. We all know about Islam. No entertainment of any kind with those folks, this despite the relatively mild injunction of the Koran, to simply avoid alcohol before prayer. As for Judaism, we always had wine at our staff meetings and at employee gatherings, so it would seem that the God of Abraham does indeed welcome entertainment. As for Buddhism, one has only to refrain from alcohol abuse, the “middle way” between shunning and abusing. Zen priests have been known to stack their empty saké bottles in front of the temple, so that parishioners would be fully informed as to the moral flaws of their teachers—entertainment for the Divine to be sure.

The ceremony consisted of chants and bows and hand claps, followed by a rice and salt offering, sacred prayers (in Japanese) and purification of the building by throwing special salt and emptying a bottle of saké to spray over each of the brewery’s four corners. We spectators followed along, bowing at appropriate times, to its termination with an offering of tamagushi—evergreen branches—and closing with the traditional tessen ceremony.

Afterwards, we (about 150 of us) gathered together in SakéOne’s spacious picnic area to partake of sushi, homemade cookies and some of SakéOne’s best saké, including a very rare, unlabeled, full-strength (20 percent alcohol by volume) nama (unpasteurized) first run ginjo saké. It was spectacular and memorable, especially when served deeply chilled.

Across America, sake inventories have been expanding. It appears that our home-grown Japanese-Americans are avoiding sake while the rest of us are drinking more and more of it. It seems that Americans are actually buying the expensive premium brands rather than the cheap stuff. Moreover, we may end up drinking more of the beverage than they do in Japan, where the younger generation is eschewing their rich legacy of traditional sake.

Here in the United States, sake selection has been growing rapidly, with the arrival of many new (and expensive) brands. While it’s true that they are showing up mostly in traditional Japanese-related outlets, they are also appearing in non-Japanese venues: New York City, Chicago, Boston and Minneapolis. Nonetheless, U.S. West coast cities of Seattle, Portland, San Francisco, Oakland, Los Angeles and San Diego probably top the list.

I’m guessing here, but I think there are now close to 500 brands from mostly small and relatively rare kura (breweries) now found in major markets across the country. Small sake-bistros (the Japanese call them izakaya―sit-down bars), each offering upwards of 20 different brands, are now appearing in major market areas. In the major metropolitan areas around San Francisco Bay, for example, there may well be over 30 such bistros. These small establishments also present some fascinating side dishes, beyond just sushi, to accompany their sake offerings, in the fashion of Spanish tapas bars.

True, the expansion has mostly flowered in traditional Japanese stores, but it is also spreading to non-traditional outlets such as the Safeway chain, and even to local organic markets. In San Francisco, don’t miss Beau Timkin’s True Sake shop, maybe our nation’s sole “sake-only” retailer, offering over 150 different sakes for sale.

Sampling Sake

In the absence of a bar specializing in good sake, the reader should search for a Japanese ethnic restaurant offering a selection of at least ten bottled sakes visible behind the bar. Just sample a few (chilled is best) and see what appeals to you. But be careful. Sake may be a beer, but it’s not light: the alcohol level is usually in the 15-16 percent ABV range, somewhat higher than that of wine. A small one or two-ounce sample should be relatively inexpensive and enough to evaluate. If a particular brand seems appealing, then go to a retail outlet with a good sake selection and buy a bottle. Please note that in addition to being expensive, Japanese-produced sakes are usually sold in 720ml bottles, not the 750ml wine bottles we might expect, although they do look alike. This is not an example of wily Asians attempting to cheat the stupid foreigner but rather a manifestation of ancient Japanese volumetric measures (i.e. four gō).

Don’t expect much from the five American sake breweries; because, aside from Oregon’s SakeOne (www.sakeone.com), they are totally clueless in this business. Sadly, all of them, including SakeOne, still supply Japanese-American restaurateurs with those dreadful sake machines that heat sake to coffee/tea temperatures (160F/71C or more). Unfortunately, Americans have come to expect hot sake in Japanese-American restaurants, thus ruining the taste and killing all interest in home consumption of high quality sake by their clientele.

No. Saké, brewed for over a thousand years in Japan, makes the use of rice something entirely different and wonderful.

Unlike beer, saké is rarely conditioned, and hops and spices are absent. Only rice, water, yeast and an enzyme called koji are used. Even so, saké comes in a surprising range of flavors and styles.

In Japan, saké has been burdened with a dusty image—a drink tied to ritual and ceremony, as well as old-man drunkenness. In the past twenty years, however, there has been a revival of traditional brewing methods and the popularization of high quality saké. There are striking parallels to the renaissance of craft brewing in the U.S., Europe—and, recently, in Japan. The same Japanese who embrace good beer are also appreciating good saké.

A heightened interest in craft saké has taken place in the U.S., as well. Americans are increasingly shunning overheated, mass-produced saké—long a staple in Japanese restaurants—and are drinking saké brewed by small craft breweries. Craft saké is coming of age.