Korea’s Craft Spirits Renaissance Is A Rediscovery Of A Nation’s Own Past: 800 Years Of Soju History But You Won’t Find Them In Any Green Bottles
Grassy, minty, sort of a midway between licorice and anise, yet almost herbal and crunchy, I swore I've tasted this before but for the life of me I couldn't quite place my finger on it this time around. As I gazed intently at the golden cocktail in my Nick and Nora, stylishly adorned with a painted on red sash of jammy quality, Le Chamber's Pedro Ahn must have caught a whiff of my bewilderment. "That's perilla, we use that along with Gamuchi spirit, basil and then top it up with Korean mead for our Meadow Martini," he casually demystifies with a warm smile as he continues to effortlessly paint each glass with omija jam without even looking.
Le Chamber's Meadow Martini makes use of artisanal Gamuchi rice soju from cult Soju maker Danong Bio.
The Guestshift That Brought Me Down The Rabbithole Of 800 Years Of Korean Soju History
When I had heard that cult Seoul speakeasy bar Le Chamber was going to do a one night only pop-up at Odem, I knew I had to make the pilgrimage down. Sensing my bafflement tinged delight, Pedro asked with a wry smile if I'd like to find out more. Understandably the answer was yes, and I would spend the next hour-plus working my way through the next three cocktails specially prepared by the Asia's 50 Best honouree for the New Bahru spot widely regarded as Singapore's de facto destination for Korean spirits, ferments and contemporary Korean cuisine. Each creation brought out flavours that felt at once familiar yet entirely unheard of in a cocktail - a roasted barley depth, an at once sweet and sour but also salt red currant bitterness, a most evocative citrusy and grassy perfume of lemonbalm aromatics; even with having had the privilege of sampling cocktails from some of the world's most famous cocktail bars, I must concede that I hadn't quite encountered such unique flavours that somehow seem to have already resided in my subconscious without my awareness. They felt refreshingly Asian in their sensibilities, but also unmistakably and distinctively Korean. Pedro would walk me through Korean craft spirits such as the cult Hwasim Roasted Soju, Jinmac Wheat Soju and the omija liqueur Omi Spirit, each a category and world unto its own, unlike anything of the more well publicised likes of Scotch, Caribbean rums, botanical gins or Mexican tequilas - and interestingly enough, not one of them came in that ubiquitous green bottle.
A groundswell of Korean craft spirits that lay behind the facade of the generic green bottle.
So how did we get here? After that eye-opening night at Odem, I couldn't help but feel like I was merely scratching the surface on what seems to be a more immense movement happening right under my feet. Spurred by a deep sense of curiosity, I went down the rabbithole in search of answers, and to my surprise, what I had found was more incredulous than I could have expected. So here's the run down of an 800 year history of a spirit that is not only being reshaped into modernity, it is in fact a story of a country rediscovering itself, with Sool, the Korean name for its heritage liquors, intimately intertwined with the social fabric of the nation's own identity.
The Rice Based Origins Of Korean Sool
Hit the streets of Itaewon and you'll see that familiar green bottle lined up around restaurants and bars as if they were supposed to be bricks, with tables of raucous laughter stacking them as if they were building a fort - it's everywhere and it's a big part of Korean culture, no, not the green bottle, the ease that flows when people come together and share drinks. Business clients become comrades, classmates become friends and an acquaintance turns into the love of one's life. On the surface, it might seem like a penchant to just have fun, but the reality is that as a country that has distilled its own spirits for centuries, Soju, and the broader category of sool that it belongs to, has for generations carried social and historical significance, from its early origins of being offered to the gods for blessings to the milestone celebrations a family has when children are born and marriages are sealed. Sool represents importance: the significance of an event, the bridging of social ties, the weight of paying respect to seniors. It's a social gambit that is integral to the country's running. And when something is this important, it's inevitable that its people will yearn to understand more, particularly when hallyu, or the Korean Wave that saw the country's culture become embraced the world over, has in many ways made Korean culture everyone's. When your culture becomes a global export, it often makes you value and protect your own cultural identity even more.
Only three traditional nuruk makers remain in South Korea, carrying with them centuries of expertise and decades cultured starters, which makes traditionally made Soju incredibly rare.
This all starts with the discovery of nuruk, visually this resembles something of a rice cake or cracker that is in essence a starter (the sort Sourdough people rave about) that's composed of wild mold innoculated grain. As far back as 2,000 years ago during the Three Kingdoms period, people living in the region had already figured out how to get rice grains to let go of their starch and release sugars, which was up till that point the biggest hurdle to fermentation given that yeast can only work with the latter. And so Koreans then would ferment with rice and nuruk, which when left to settle, would create two visibly distinct layers - a clear top layer, called cheongju, and a cloudy sediment packed bottom layer, called takju. Here's where it often surprises folks, the cheongju is what gets distilled to become Soju, and the takju is diluted to become makgeolli - which means that Soju and makgeolli if historically made (the "historical" bit will be important later on! Hold on to that!), comes from the same source! And so before distillation was introduced to Korea by the Mongols - more on that in abit - the clear cheongju would typically be spiced with medicinal herbs and be offered to nobles as what is called yakju, whereas the cloudy part, that is the makgeolli, was left to the commoners.
Traditionally Soju and Makgeolli come from the same process, with Soju going through distillation whilst Makgeolli is diluted, with the two layers separated by pressing a clay pot with holes down, allowing only the cheongju to be filtered out and leaving behind the takju.
Fast forward some 1,200 years later (that's the 1200-1300's, or the 13th Century), the Mongols was on a roll and took over much of the Asian and Middle Eastern continent, and would bring with it distillation that it had learnt in Syria to Korea, and particularly the city of Andong which had served as the base for its incursions into Japan. This later made its way closer to Seoul when young nobles would travel towards the city for their exams, with their wives often producing and selling their homemade liquors as part of daily life. As time went on, Soju making became integral to life in Korea, with many families boasting their own homemade recipes, outstanding quality and even functional benefits.
Commercially produced Soju has proven to be both a boon and a bane.
How Industrial Soju Became A Thing
Nevertheless into the 1900's, sool would almost see itself completely extinguished despite its centuries of popularity. Mirroring the hardships that Koreans faced under Japanese colonialisation, much of the local culture was suppressed as a means to control the people, and sool-making was no exception. Subsequent episodes of war would make it difficult to justify taking already scarce food and turning it into alcohol - the use of rice for brewing and distilling was completely outlawed, which contrary to what might intuitively sound like a death knell, would in fact play a major hand in spurring the popularity of Soju. Now whilst Soju today typically registers its alcoholic proof in the low teens, it was not uncommon for Soju in the 1960's to clock in at a whopping 40% ABV! With the support of the government then, Soju was to be made with any other type of starch except rice, which meant the use of everything from sweet potato to tapioca - typically whatever was cheapest was the go-to - which would be distilled to 95% ABV, or pretty much pure ethanol, which was then watered down. On top of that, the government insisted that every province should have its own Soju brand that was to also represent some sort of regional style. What might have sounded like support for fostering regional entrepreneurship, identity and branding, was in reality a guise for tax benefit. As it turns out, these 300 or so Soju brands that would emerge were all required to purchase pure, flavourless ethanol from a single supplier, which they then used to flavour with everything under the sun you could imagine, and with a heavy dose of sweeteners like saccharin which would make the final product seemingly attractive. This was the start of industrial Soju. A program later in the 90's would see the near universal adoption of the green bottle regardless of brand, which was yet again the result of another incentive program that allowed the generic green bottles to be reused by any brand once consumed, therefore returning cost savings in the form of reducing the number of new bottles to be produced.
The more international Soju has become, the greater a desire has emerged for more artisanally made Korean craft spirits, many of which have revitalised ancient recipes and ancestral techniques. Pictured is Hwasim Jujo's famous roasted rice and roasted sweet potato Soju that deliver roasty, earthy tones with an unmatched depth. In the background is Le Chamber's Pedro Ahn who skilfully paints omija berry jam on the glass for his Meadow Martini.
Here's another fun fact: what's the best selling spirit in the world? Is it Vodka? Scotch? Brandy? It is in fact Soju! Rallying into the 2000's, several factors would all come together to make this happen. As industrial Soju makers only had to simply buy ethanol (which was now cheaply mass produced, and meant that Soju makers often don't do any fermentation or distillation contrary to popular belief) and water it down, before adding flavourings and sweeteners, the price, variety and accessibility of Soju made it the most available option - it was cheap, easy to drink with the now lower alcoholic proof, and even came in flavours like grape, mango, melon and even mint chocolate. The popularisation of mixers such as somaek (lager with a shot of Soju) and the wider global success of the Korean wave only propelled Soju's popularity that much more astronomically. The only issue was that none of this was anything like what Soju really was, that is an ancestral rice ferment and spirit made with wild yeast cultures that's then at times aged or fortified with traditional Korean fruits, herbs and spices. Ironically, the more widespread soju became, the greater the tension, as more locals began rediscovering traditional soju and Korean craft spirits.
The More Soju Moves Forward, The More It Finds Itself Pulled Back To Its Past
Just scraping the tip of the iceberg of the incredible diversity of traditional sool-making, the nuruk starter can be made with a variety of rice and in different styles such as baekseolgi (white rice cake), injeolmi (sticky rice cake) or gaetteok (rice cake with green leaves), whilst the rice to be saccharified and fermented can be short grained (maepssal), glutinous (chapssal) or of regional varietals such as Jeju's own millet (omegitteok). From there, the sool-making process can even be lengthened beyond the common single stage ferment (called danyangju) to a two-stage (iyangju), three-stage (samyangju), and so on, up until even a super complex seven-stage ferment (known as chilyangju). Following on, the sool (both Soju and Makgeolli) can be infused with botanicals such as seasonal flowers, popularly yellow chrysanthemums, in what is called gukhwaju ("hwa" meaning flower), or with local fruits such as omija berries which Korean mothers often encourage children to snack on for good skin, which is a style known as gwasil-ju. The possibilities are endless.
Pedro's rendition of a Whiskey Sour, Dem, So Fresh makes use of Jinmac Wheat Soju to create a botanical vibrance evoking windy, grassy meadows with a pucker of raspberry.
Today, South Korea is home to over 400 craft sool-makers where just 20 years ago the number was far under a hundred. It's for this reason that Koreans are more passionate and excited about traditional Sool than ever before, often proudly learning, enjoying and promoting craft Korean liquors, many of which can even be found in the cocktail programs of the nation's top bars which themselves regularly rank amongst the best in the world, demonstrating their versatility and bringing to the world a unique and distinct flavour and therefore identity.
Fueled By History, Artisanal Soju Makes Its Comeback
And so coming back to our culturally immersive night with Le Chamber's Pedro at Odem, we're brought into a moment of duality, one foot in the past and one foot into the future, shaken, stirred, and served one cocktail at a time. Riffing on cocktail classics like the Martini, Gin Fizz, Aviation, Bloody Mary and Whiskey Sour, Pedro would infuse each of them with his secret ingredient, an assortment of Korean craft spirits made with traditional methods, which deftly turned each staple into a whole new creation. Where a Gin Martini would typically taste botanical (depending on the gin of course) and crisp, Pedro's Meadow Martini, made with Gamuchi Soju (the claim to fame for cult Soju maker Danong Bio), homemade Korean mead, perilla and basil, was rich and comforting, with exotic flavours of melons and pine, cusped by a tartness akin to red currants - it almost felt like being home for Christmas in the snow. The O! Garibaldi!, made with omija berry Omi Liqueur, Cardamom, carrots, apple, dill, amaro and orange, carried that Bloody Mary familiarity of fresh vegetals, yet this time with an almost cherry-esque tartness, the carrots candied, with then a canvas of earthy, almost chewy barley sugars.
(Clockwise from Top Left): O! Garibaldi!, Aviasian Fizz, Meadow Martini, featuring omija liqueur Omi Spirit, Hwasim Roasted Rice Soju, Gamuchi Soju respectively.
The Aviasian Fizz, made of Hwasim Soju (made of roasted rice) and violets, blended together the Aviation and the Gin Fizz, yet somehow wholly unlike either, here delivering an earthy depth of roasted wheat and sesame with floral overtones of lavender, lifted up by a minerality of crisp yet textured spring water. And finally Dem, So Fresh, composed of Jinmac Wheat Soju, aperitif wine, tomato, Korean mint (called Banga), lime and tomato powder, took the Whiskey Sour you know and amped up the botanical vibrance to evoke a sense of standing in the middle of a windy, grassy meadow by the verdant countryside, honeyed, floral yet clean, with a dehydrated raspberry pucker at the end. We even got to taste some of these artisanal Soju on their own, which highlighted immediately the distinct and unique flavours they brought to each cocktail, turning them into unlike anything you've tasted on a modern cocktail program.
Le Chamber brought the cocktails and Odem brought the food, with warm and umami housemade brioche in soy glaze served with gamtae seaweed butter and refreshing oysters topped with kimchi granita and perilla.
With Sool Cellar as the force behind Odem's Korean craft spirits - one serves as the purveyor of Korean liquors in Singapore, and the other functions (tastily) as the place to experience Korean craft spirits paired with its own cuisine - we got to learn firsthand a whole world of Soju, Makgeolli and more. From Hwasim Jujo's Roasted Rice Soju which is a personal favourite for its toasty depths, and Jinmac's 480 year old recipe for a nutty tasting, organic wheat Soju, to Onzi Suldoga who perfected the single stage brew with the legendary Seomak 15, as well as Jiran Jigyo's Takju and Yakju's which fought to revive the historic 100-day Sunchang Baekilju recipe that would see it served as Korea's Presidential Banquet, and finally Byeolsan's Champagne-style sparkling fruited Makgeolli. Each expression forged of real human stories of brewers and distillers who've fought to revive ancient traditions and keep Korea's history alive and perhaps more critically, relevant, particularly in a time when everyone is convinced they know what Soju is. The diversity is breathtaking, the versatility be it neat or in a cocktail is impressive, and to think that all of that is just waiting on the other side of forgoing the generic green bottle to step forward with an open mind, ready to rediscover Korean Soju.
PS. If you're interested in learning more about Korean craft liquors - that's Soju, Makgeolli, Yakju, Takju and many more - Sool Cellar is the place to find a curated range of producers, all of which have been specially selected for their incredible work and contribution to the modern Sool movement. If you'd like to experience these Korean craft spirits with some delicious Korean food, then Odem at New Bahru (Singapore) is the place to check out! The Le Chamber guestshift at Odem was proudly brought to us by the Korea Agro-Fisheries & Food Trade Corporation (aT)!
Odem is located at New Bahru 46 Kim Yam Rd, #01-17, Singapore 239351, and for online order and delivery of craft Korean liquors, visit www.soolcellar.sg
Kanpai!
@111hotpot
