MAR 25: Bodaimoto
SUNFLOWER SAKE CLUB, MARCH 2025
Somehow, Sunflower celebrated its 3rd anniversary this last Fall!
Incidentally, 2024 was also the 1036th anniversary of 66th Emperor Ichijo’s divine inspiration to construct Shoryaku-ji temple on Mt. Bodhi (Bodaisen, 菩提山) in Nara, which came to him in a dream.
Shoryaku-ji temple became the center of sake production and technological innovation some 400 years later. The eponymous bodaimoto method sake was developed here, considered the first “refined” sake made from only white rice (“morohaku”) as opposed to a combination of white and brown rice. Nara’s bodaimoto was coveted by Kyoto gentry as the finest sake of its time.
I don’t think Sunflower will last 400 years, but if it does, we can say that it came to me in a dream after I drank Bodaimoto 菩提酛 of Shoryaku-ji, one of the first sake to stop me dead in my tracks.
In Japan five years ago a barkeep taught me one of the most important lessons I’ve ever learned. Describing his selection he said, “I don’t sell boring sake.”
Jarring, yes; boring, never. The only sake I remember well from that trip was from his bar. And one of the most memorable sake I drank that night was Terada Honke’s “Daigo no Shizuku,” two bottles with 8 years between them. Hardly recognizable as sake, sharply acidic and sweet, I jotted crazed notes into my journal.
“Tart yogurt whey, gjetost, pineapple juice and skin? Sharply acidic, an intensely floral crazy lactic swiss cheese mountain”
Did I love it? Or was it just fascinating and intriguing? I don’t know. But experiences that walk confidently on the line between offensive and divine are always the most compelling. The outer reaches, the most unusual and difficult things, are where we find inspiration. It’s the ascent of El Cap, the Tour de France, the Super Bowl that make us want to get up and challenge our bodies in sport. It’s the first time you have a really exceptional old Burgundy that you understand why people sometimes act stupid over these wines.
When you taste Daigo no Shizuku you can see it clearly: intensely unique, sweet-sour, impossible to ignore, and even among total newcomers the questions come quickly. “What IS that?” It’s so fruity, it could almost be a cider. It’s challenging, it’s assertive, it’s fascinating, to most people it’s delicious. It’s sake from the outer reaches– fun to pour for people. It sells itself.
But when you taste the bodaimoto Gozenshu “1859” there is no challenge. It’s lightly herbaceous and floral but with a shallow lactic twinge and a touch of spritz on the first day that settles into a melting white chocolate velvetiness on the 4th or 5th. It’s hard to believe it might have anything in common with Daigo no Shizuku, but where they diverge is that Terada Honke embraced bodaimoto’s flaws and wildness and weirdness… while Gozenshu on the other hand adapted and iterated upon it, attempting to soften the wildness of this method and tame it. In fact, Gozenshu was the first brewery in the modern era to attempt this method in 1984 after following a recipe from a ~200 year old book. Nara began brewing the bodaimoto of its own heritage in 1996, and Daigo no Shizuku came another decade or so later.
For my part, while Daigo no Shizuku changed me deeply in 2020 I haven’t brought a bottle home in years. I’ve had many glasses after work, I’ve used it to incredible effect in pairings, I’ve shared bottles at fancy dinners… it’s a phenomenal, life changing sake especially for someone who hasn’t yet seen the outer reaches. But at the end of the day dozens of 1859 have been opened at Sunflower primarily to quench a personal craving to revisit. Quietly complex, satisfying, with a subtle yet revealing arc of evolution over ~2 weeks open, each bottle of 1859 quietly tells me something new. The barkeep might say it’s boring, but I think it just speaks softly.
3 years ago I was so full of loud vision for Sunflower I could hardly see straight. Between the popups, the classes, pairing exploration, tastings, my ambition to get Sunflower noticed, it was like being in Daigo mode 24/7. But this last year we’ve started to swing the other way and we’re aspiring to look a bit more like 1859. A 1,000 year old method developed by monks, interpreted and reinterpreted with confidence and spirit by both Terada Honke and Gozenshu, is like a full orchestral performance of Beethoven vs a duet. In
2025 Sunflower is getting a little quieter, a little more focused, hopefully encouraging people to return not for our crazy calendar but a reliably thoughtful experience every time.
What we’re planning for the next 3-5 years of Sunflower and Fuyu Fest is incredibly exciting. Our efforts to bring in Haccoba, to collaborate with Okan Lover, to source the best shuki (sake wares), and to generate original sake educational materials, are going really well. But we’re also looking at bigger plans: how can we make Portland the center of sake culture in the US, how can we encourage more brewers in Oregon and build a market for them, how can we facilitate connections between the most creative brewers in Japan and in the US, how can we help improve the quality of locally made shuki, how can we achieve the greatest cultural outcomes for Portland. And meanwhile, how do we offer the most meaningful, moving sake experience we can with individual visitors on a day to day basis with only 250 square feet to our name?
(most of) Team Fuyu Fest 2025
I founded Sunflower and Fuyu Fest with very little connection to the Japanese sake community. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I wanted to protect myself from cultural appropriation/ white savior behaviors by keeping my distance. I can never know the Japanese or Japanese-American experience, so who am I to celebrate Japanese new year, wear maekake (aprons), or even cheer “kanpai?” So I framed Sunflower’s cultural imperative originally as supporting a uniquely American or PNW sake identity, entirely distinct from Japan’s. Our own shuki, art, customs, pairings, even sake.
But this was an idea that could only exist in a Covid-era vacuum, because as soon as you actually go to Japan it’s clear we have a LONG way to go before we can even consider iterating upon the original. Our own otsumami (sake snacks)? Yeah, eventually…but the ones from Japan have co-evolved with sake and they just taste fantastic together. Our own shuki? Sure, but the standard of craftsmanship for beverage serveware in Japan is at such a phenomenally high level (considerations given to angle, sound, aesthetic, season, temperature…) it’s hard to even come close. Our own sake, this has been a source of real contention for me as a proponent of American craft sake, but even as it has improved dramatically there are still so many structural, cultural, ingredient, microbial, equipment, generational knowledge…so many challenges to overcome. The only way to start thinking about forming our own culture is to ask for the help of Japan’s experts, and with their guidance and our incredible network of talented local Portlanders, work together to create something new. Look to the past, then create the future together.
Anyway, that’s my little March diary entry. Thanks for letting me think out loud. A bodaimoto drawing follows– take a look, learn a bit about it, it’s a really exciting and fascinating historical brew. And it’s really cool to compare two totally different versions, as the variety is seemingly endless in Japan: a really, really fun category to be aware of and explore.
If you see a bodaimoto on the menu, ORDER IT!
