Cold Fusion

The pleasures of artisan sake (hint: drink it chilled).

By Christina Burridge

TWO PAIRS OF GUMBOOTS, several pairs of Japanese slippers, a washing machine and a commercial dishwasher are part of the equipment of Osake, Canada’s first artisan sake studio, sandwiched into a tiny space next to a goldsmith, a potter and a textile artist on Granville Island. In the glycol-jacketed stainless steel fermenter, Japanese junmai rice, Japanese yeast and filtered soft municipal water are seething quietly away rather like a giant, sweet rice pudding. Then there are two big stock pots, a hand-operated tub press with a cedar beam as a weight, a pair of steel sinks, a couple of storage tanks, an office in the loft space, and that’s it. Sake is a simple thing to make. It’s early February and Masa Shiroki is fretting that he’s almost sold out of his first batch and the second won’t be ready until March. He jokes that this is his last career change. He’s lived in Canada for more than 30 years, importing and exporting, managing Japan Airlines’ Vancouver live cargo facility, and advising the B.C. government on trade development. Useful skills, he says: the ability to cope with endless paperwork, deal with hard-to-find tradespeople, and source equipment and ingredients unfamiliar in this part of the world.

For the past six years, he’s been a sake importer, drawing on the connections he made selling B.C. microbrewing equipment to Japan. For someone who barely drank alcohol at the time, he quickly became a sake evangelist, and now has an urgent desire to convert locals and tourists to the pleasures of good sake. Back in 2001, local sake tastes were mostly satisfied with the industrial stuff that comes warm in flasks. Even Tojo, the sushi master, didn’t stock premium sake. Shiroki took his Japanese supplier to dinner there, gave the chef a taste, and made his first big sale.

A couple of years later, he persuaded the Vancouver Playhouse International Wine Festival that sake was really a wine, took a booth at the evening tastings and found Vancouverites ready to embrace cold sake. Shiroki set out to learn everything about sake, visiting Japan but also taking the International Sommelier Guild courses to learn how to talk about it. He did consumer shows, restaurant events and gave classes on sake. Along the way, he started to think he could make it himself. “The cheap stuff was $10 a bottle, and the premium sake I was importing sold for three or four times that,” he explains. “I thought I could make something in between and have a nice little business opportunity.”

Right now, Shiroki can make 100 cases in each sake cycle and he’s planning 10 cycles a year. The process, he says, is “primitive, but this means that the sake tastes more natural.” He makes three very different kinds, all produced at low temperatures and unfiltered, and sells them mainly from the tasting bar at the front of the studio. They’re also available at Tojo, Octopus’ Garden, Kingyo Izakaya and Clove on Denman. “I could sell all my production to restaurants,” he notes, “but I like to talk to people and explain how sake goes with much more than just Japanese food—spicy food, fresh local seafood and shellfish, even cheese and sausage.” Osake Artisan Sake Maker, 1339 Railspur Alley, Granville Island, 604-685-7253.

THREE'S COMPANY

Osake’s limited production includes three distinctly different sakes.


Osake Junmai Nama
The versatile Junmai, cut with distilled municipal water to 15 percent alcohol, makes
up most of each of Shiroki’s production cycles. It’s a natural pale yellow, fresh, crisp and
lively on the tongue, with Asian pear, apple and peach flavours dominating, backed by a
citrus streak of minerality. $24.99

Osake Junmai Nama Nigori
The Nigori is last off the press, cloudy with moromi, the lees from the fermentation
process, which gives it body and concentration. This is a rustic sake that pays tribute to
a 2,000-year tradition. It’s peppery, coconutty and just a little sweet, which makes it
surprisingly successful with spicy food. $24.99

Osake Junmai Nama Genshu
First off the press, the Genshu has the highest alcohol content (18 percent) and the
most body and viscosity. It’s slightly sweet with intense exotic fruit aromas and flavours—pineapple and lychees—with a creaminess that makes you want to savour it slowly. Terrific with Dungenness crab or fresh prawns. $32.—C. Burridge

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