Seasonal Affairs - Joy of Sake Festival at the Hawaii Convention Center

Celebrated Chef Seiya Masahara, right, of Hakkei on Young St., soundly defeated Iron Chef Masaharu Morimoto in the popular Food Network Series.

As beer is made from the fermentation of barley or other grains while wine is produced from grapes, sake's magic element is rice. Other than that and water, the only other ingredients are a koji mold and yeast to enhance fermentation.

At its most basic level, sake is divided into futsu-shu, which happens to constitute 75-80% of all sake produced, but is of a low quality comparable to that of table wine, and tokutei-meishoshu, or special designation sake, which is the type most of us familiarize ourselves with in restaurants and grocery stores. Because of this fact, we'll spend the rest of our time walking through this latter class.

There are four basic (and I do stress basic) types of sake in this class. The biggest factor separating each from another is the degree of polishing employed, or how much the rice grain is or is not polished away before use. This is very important because the outer portion of each grain also contains proteins, fats, and other ingredients that do not ferment well, while the inner portion contains the pure starch that breaks down into a smooth, clean end-product. The more you shave off, the less your chances are for off-flavors that are unpredictably bitter and harsh.

That being said, the four basic types are honjozo, junmai, ginjo, and daiginjo. The first two shave off at least 30% of the grain, leaving 70% of the original grain intact. Not bad, right?  Well, Ginjo is even better, shaving off at least 40%, leaving 60% of the grain intact, while daiginjo is considered the pinnacle of sake, shaving off at least 50%, and sometimes much more.

Going back to the first two, honjozo and junmai, both are in the 30% category but both signify two different approaches. Once upon a time, when standards were lax and difficult to regulate, copious amounts of distilled (or brewers) alcohol was often added to increase volume. Honjozo is a term meant to assure drinkers that only small amounts of distilled alcohol were used. Junmai, on the other hand, means that no distilled alcohol or other ingredients were added outside of the basic rice, water, yeast, and koji mold. Keep in mind, though, that small amounts of distilled alcohol does not signify quality or lack therof, because when used sparingly, it is often found in even the best sake varieties for its certain beneficial elements, most notably a more fragrant aroma.

Still clear?  Unfortunately, the story's not over yet. I'd like to stop here, but if you go to the store and look at the various labels on each bottle based on the above information alone, you'll only be left scratching your head. I'd be doing you a great disservice. That's because there are not only many other sub-types and terms for sake variations, but there are also combinations of the four major types mentioned above. Since junmai simply means pure (no distilled alcohol, etc.), the term can be added to either ginjo, in which case it is then called junmai ginjo, meaning pure + at least 40% of grains shaved away; or daiginjo, called junmai daiginjo, or pure + at least 50% of grains shaved away.

Outside of that, there are yet many other terms you may come across, but I'll mention just a few that are common. Nigorizake (I love this stuff - but considered kinda girly!) is made by a process where the rice particles are only loosely filtered out, leaving a sweet, milky-cloudy result; namazake is an unpasteurized sake that has to stay chilled or risk spoilage; and the term kimoto comes from a traditional method of preparation where the rice mash is hand-beaten and made into a paste that ferments.

But let's not fret with any other terms already. If you can get all of this so far, you'll have a decent start torwards understanding the world of sake. Let's just go ahead and hit the Convention Center!

Sake stations were divided into four different sections, one for ginjo varieties, one for junmai, and two for various grades of daiginjo. The many tables, like the one shown next, were stocked with self-serve stations where small syringes were used to extract the sake from small containers into your even smaller, personal mini-cups. It took at least two or three "sucks" to get enough for a decent taste, but even this was not even a quarter of a regular shot glass. I'll be sure to bring my turkey baster next year.