The Many Faces Of Korean Rice Wine
the ambiguous world of rice wine
After ten years of on and off research and frequent questioning of Korean friends, I’ve decided to make my own mind up on the relationships between tak-ju (탁주), makgeolli (막걸리), dongdong-ju (동동주) and cheong-ju (청주). First, let’s clear up part of the nomenclature problem. Westerners generally refer to Korean alcoholic drinks made with rice as ‘rice wine’ or ‘rice beer.’ There is much controversy, often passionate, about which label is appropriate but it’s all fairly pointless as there are various types of ‘rice’ wine some clearly resembling a wine, others not. I suggest ‘wine’ is a better description as it is not only more commonly used, but the historical purpose of brewing rice based alcohol was to obtain the more valued cheong-ju (청주) which is sometimes called yak-ju (약주). Cheong-ju was a valued alcohol for the ruling yangban class and was an important accessory in ancestral rites, as it still is today. Cheong-ju, once siphoned from the mash, is approx 10% ABV and closer to a wine in this respect, than a beer. It is then subject to further treatment before it is ready to consume. Dongdong-ju, at 14-16% ABV, is even stronger and is often ‘flat’.
just a few of the vast array of available brands
The problem with the ‘purist’ approach is that the same basic recipe produces four different types of alcohol and though you can make makgeolli (though it is possibly strictly tak-ju) without making dongdong-ju, this necessitates watering the brew down either at point of inoculation or when decanted. This is no different in practice to the old custom of watering-down wine. It is not just confusing and academic to insist one type is a ‘beer’ and another a ‘wine,’ but somewhat culturally prejudice. Even among beers there are anomalies we accept – ginger beer, root beer for example and there has been a long history of watering down wine while still calling it ‘wine.’ However, this is just my opinion!
shopping for makgeolli
Some confusion also confronts Westerners over the Korean names of rice wine variants, the following are the main ones but there are also others not forgetting ‘drunken rice drink,’ the term coined by manufacturers of makgeolli being exported to the West.
Dongdong-ju (동동주) is often called nong-ju (농주).
Makgeolli (막걸리) is sometimes called tak-ju (탁주). It should also be noted that makgeolli can be made from wheat and other grains.
I have pieced my understanding together from the wealth of information, often contradictory and sometimes wrong, on the internet. However, where at one time there was no information available, there is now at least enough to corroborate facts and arrive at better informed, though possibly still wrong, conclusions. I guess I’m tired of waiting to learn the differences and decided to make an ‘educated’ opinion. Much of the information I have trawled has come from brewing forums in the USA where there is a large, and possibly more reliable, Korean-American population.
the golden hue of dongdong-ju
Many Westerners are confused by the ambiguous use of terms such as makgeolli, dongdong-ju and tak-ju but this shouldn’t worry you because Koreans are equally as confused. There is a consensus among Koreans that they are all made from rice and that dongdong-ju has rice floating on the top and is often yellower in colour but that is about all they are able to tell you. In general, Koreans are no more knowledgeable about the intricacies and processes involved in making rice wine than Westerners might be about making wine. My first dongdong-ju recipe came from a western source that claimed the name ddongddong-ju (똥똥주) was coined ‘because rice floated on the top of the drink like small turds.’ The author had confused his ‘dong’ with his ‘ddong’ (동-똥) and subsequently let his imagination run away. More importantly, his recipe failed though after some changes I managed to get it to work as my Recipe 3. And though dongdong-ju is quite distinct from makgeolli, most Koreans will tell you they can’t taste or tell the difference.
While all sources in English, and indeed with Koreans with whom I’ve spoken, suggest a basic recipe, there is confusion over whether one mash produces four different drinks or to do so requires four different mashes of the same recipe each treated a little differently. Tak-ju (탁주) and makgeolli (막걸리) are often described as the same drink whereas other sources claim they are marginally different; next are cheong-ju (청주) and dongdong-ju (동동주) which are very different. Once you start thinking about the recipe in any depth you begin to realise the number of possible permutations and it suddenly dawns on you not only why there is so much confusion, but why it is easier to simply clump everything together under the heading ‘makgeolli,’ ‘rice wine’ or even ‘rice beer.’
first stage – with a rice cap and comprising cheong-ju
stage 2, the rice cap has fallen away leaving dongdong-ju – in this case the cheong-ju wasn’t siphoned off
All sources agree on three ‘tiers,’ but there are clearly permutations:
All ‘tiers’ of the basic recipe combined (Clouded. Is it makgeolli? Is it tak-ju?)
2nd and 3rd tiers combined (is it makgeolli? Is it tak-ju?)
1st tier (cheong-ju, or yak-ju, 10% ABV, clear)
2nd tier (dongdong-ju, or nong-ju, 14-16% yellowy, rice floating in drink)
3rd tier (makgeolli, milky)
3rd and 1st tier – (does this exist or have a name?)
There are plenty of resources corroborating the nature of the 1st, 2ndand 3rd tiers, namely cheong-ju, dongdong-ju and makgeolli. However, how they are arrived at is still ambiguous. Are the various ‘tiers’ siphoned off to produce four different drinks or are separate recipes used?
Here’s what I think. Firstly, if you use a separate batch of mash for each variant, what do you do with unused material? If you’re making cheong-ju, what do you do with the rest of the mash? I really don’t think you’re going to chuck it out! The idea that one mash was used to produce a number of variations sits much better with household economics and with theories of social organisation; cheong-ju was both consumed by the yangban and has always been important in ancestral rites. Dongdong-ju (often called nong-ju, 농주), was traditionally drunk by farmers. ‘Nong’ (농) actually means ‘agriculture.’
rice cap at close quarters
Further, the rice floating in dongdong-ju would suggest a siphoning process because if you filter the rice sediment, as you do makgeolli, there is no reason for there to be rice floating in the drink. This would also explain why the colour of dongdong-ju is yellowy because the yellow hue develops as the rice cap which forms on the top of the mash, slowly diminishes until only odd grains remain floating. By this stage peak fermentation is over. If you want makgeolli you can actually bottle up without waiting until fermentation is fully over and while the liquid is still milky in appearance. Most times I’ve drunk dongdong-ju, it’s been stored not in bottles but a large plastic container or bucket and has been flat rather than fizzy for several reasons: it has been fermented longer, stored differently but more important – post peak fermentation comes to a standstill once separated from the enzyme rich sediment. For this reason it is often totally flat. According to some sources, subsequent batches of rice and inoculate are added to a primary batch of mash, sometimes up to twelve times, greatly extending the period of fermentation and increasing the ABV to around 20%. Personally, I find high ABV dongdong-ju as harsh as ‘extra extra strong’ brew’ type lagers.
Now, some recipes advocate squeezing the collected rice into the dongdong-ju. I am tempted to suspect this is actually the start of making makgeolli! My reason for this is that makgeolli produced from the pressed mash is weak and insipid. If dongdong-ju is in the region of 16% ABV and the dongdong-ju-logged mash used as the first pressing of makgeolli, two subsequent pressings in which the mash has been re-hydrated with water, will lower the ABV to about 5-7%, the regular ABV for makgeolli. It takes about half the amount of water as the initial yield to sufficiently wash the mash over two pressings. Makgeolli is the total product of mash once the dongdong-ju has been siphoned off. Hence dongdong-ju is collected via siphoning or some other means of removing the 2nd tier whereas makgeolli is the product of ‘pressing.’ This explains why dongdong-ju is a golden hue with rice particles floating on the surface, while makgeolli, filtered, contains no rice and fine, milky silt from the yeast.
Carlsberg Special Brew – the British dongdong-ju?
Dongdong-ju is quite distinct from makgeolli, not just in terms of colour and rice grains, but because of a much higher alcoholic content. That it is not the same as makgeolli and as different as farmer’s scrumpy is from lager, is apparent from the way it has been ruralised, yokelised and ridiculed. Certainly, up to ten years ago, there was much amusement in the idea of a westerner drinking dongdong-ju and it is still considered a ‘rough, unsophisticated’ drink. The sort of drink associated with bumbling yokels. Though the slur is diminishing, this has meant that for a long time drinking makgeolli in public (you can rarely buy dongdong-ju), for example outside a 24 hours convenience store, was considered ‘bad behaviour.’ You can drink beer or even a soju with impunity (unless perhaps you’re a teacher) but makgeolli, because of its association with dongdong-ju, is seen as uncouth.
metropolis makgeolli – reinvented
However, in major cities makgeolli has recently become a very trendy drink and suddenly, via fruit additives, cider, yogurt, schizandra etc, it has been elevated to a rank more in line with a cocktail. In a cross-cultural comparison, dongdong-ju has occupied the same dimension as cider in British culture, associated with Somerset farmers in white bibs, with ruddy complexions, a sheaf of straw stuck in their mouths and a glass of ‘scrumpy’ in hand, or worse, as the ‘special’ or ‘super’ brew of British lagers; the sort of lager where potency is more important than taste and whose consumption is associated with the coarser end of the social strata. While the ‘west country’ cider stereotype is quaint and rural, Carlsberg Special Brew, nicknamed ‘tramp juice,’ is stark and urban. What distinguishes makgeolli from dongdong-ju, and here is something many Koreans don’t know; is that it is simply much stronger.
Cider
So, where does that leave tak-ju? I’m tempted by the idea that anything collecting after the first ‘tier’ of cheong-ju has been removed, or even containing it, is tak-ju. However, maybe I’ve got it all wrong and if so, your erudition is warmly welcomed!
©Amongst Other Things – 努江虎 – 노강호 2012 Creative Commons Licence.
For more information on makgeolli and makgeolli recipes go to the Mister Makgeolli page in the side bar.
Mission Makgeolli – R and D for Recipe 1
I like Recipe 1 despite it being a blend between makgeolli and a dongdong-ju. The drink is refreshing, has a zing, is frothy and slightly thick though it loses the froth and thickness rapidly. As a result, it is a very light drink that dances over your tongue. All scores of 8 and above contain: zing, froth and thickness and are subsequently very light on the palate.
Batch 8, December 2011
Initially, I think my recipe was too sweet and may have been too strong for what Koreans associate with makgeolli. However, Koreans often have no idea about the differences between makgeolli and dongdong-ju and the two terms are almost interchangeable. Traditionally, dongdong-ju is a much stronger drink approaching 14-16% ABV, as this recipe does, if the ratio of 3 cups of rice to 1 litre of water (at inoculation) is adhered to and no water subsequently added.
Recipe 2, dongdong-ju, and Recipe 4, makgeolli, are both based on this recipe.
R – rice. 1 cup = 180ml
N – nu-ruk. 1 cup = 180ml / 100g
Y– yeast. Teaspoon (5ml)
W – Water added at inoculation and at bottling. (liters)
S – sugar. 1 cup = 180ml
G – Glutinous rice (R), SH – Short Grain. N – new season’s rice. All rice is Korean.
TEM/DAYS – temperature in degrees Celsius.
Note – Bolded annotations mark a point of experimentation.
| NO. | DATE2011 | R180 | N180 | Yt | W | S180 | TEM/DAYS | YIELD/ABV | VER0-10 |
| 1 | 11/11 | G3 | 0.5 | 1 | 1/0 | ? | 40/3 | ? | 0 |
| 2 | 16/11 | G3 | 0.5 | 1 | 1/0 | ? | 32/5 | ? | 5 |
| 3 | 17/11 | G5 | 1 | 1.5 | 1/0 | ? | 21/4 | ?/14% | 5 |
| 4 | 25/11 | G6 | 1 | 1.5 | 1/0 | ? | 21/3 | ?/15% | 5 |
| 5 | 26/11 | G6 | 1 | 1.5 | 1.5/0 | ? | 21/4 | ?/15% | |
| 6 | 03/12 | G5 | 0.5 | 1 | 1.5/0 | ? | 21/5 | ?/14% | 7 |
| 7 | 05/12 | G3 | 0.5 | 1 | 1/0 | ? | 21/3 | ?/? | 8 |
| 8 | 16/12 | G6 | 1 | 1 | 1.5/0 | ? | 21/4 | ?/? | 8 |
| 9 | 23/12 | G5 | 1 | 1 | 2/0 | ? | 21/5 | ?/? | 9 |
| 10 | 27/12 | G6 | 1 | 1 | 2/ | 4 | 21/5 | ?/12% | 10 |
| 11 | 30/12 | G6 | 1 | 1 | 2/ | 4 | 21/4 | 4/12% | 10 |
| 12 | 02/01/2012 | G6 | 1 | 1 | 2/ | 4 | 21/4 | 4/12% | 10 |
| 13 | G6 | 1 | 1 | 2/ | 4 | 21/4 | 4/12% | 10 | |
| 14 | G6 | 1 | 1 | 2/ | 4 | 21/4 | 4/12% | 10 | |
| 15 | G6 | 1 | 1 | 2/ | 4 | 21/4 | 4/12% | 10 | |
| 16 | G6 | 1 | 1 | 2/ | 4 | 21/4 | 4/12% | 10 | |
| 17 | G6 | 1 | 1 | 2/ | 4 | 21/4 | 4/12% | 10 | |
| 18 | 04/04 | G3 | 0.5 | 0.5 | 2/0 | 1 | 21/3 | 2.75/5% | 10 |
Rationale
18. I’m told my makgeolli is too sweet and that it is too much like soda! This batch sought to reduce both sugar levels and reduce alcohol down to approx 6%ABV. After 36 hours of post-peak fermentation, there is a marginal sweetness (in my opinion), and the alcohol has increased. The matured makgeolli is much better given time to mature. At 48 hours there is little sweetness at all. Conclusion, use 1-2 cups of sugar at bottling and allow maturing for 2 days.
Link: Recipe 1
©Amongst Other Things – 努江虎 – 노강호 2012 Creative Commons Licence.
Killing Kimchi and Murdering Makgeolli!
I’ve recently posted my new video on how to make makgeolli, but before that…
One of my Korean friends recently questioned the point of making makgeolli when it is so much easier to buy! Where do you begin? I love randomness! I hate straight cucumbers, regimented onions and all vegetables that have been forced to conform. Back in Europe, the big supermarkets, citadels of conformity, reject fruit and vegetables that aren’t a specific size and shape and I can remember a few years ago when it was a common sight to see piles of onions on the edge of a field that farmers couldn’t sell and to which you could help yourself. If I recall, it was a kind protest by farmers against the big buyers. One of the vegetables I hate buying in Korea is the courgette-like vegetable which you only seem able to buy encased in a plastic straight-jacket. Trapped inside its constraint, every vegetable grows to exactly the same dimensions and no more. What ‘ fascist farmers’ forum’ decide on the specific dimensions of a courgette?
bent and wonky – banned by the big supermarkets
Market forces have already started killing kimchi and makgeolli. Fermentation processes, in which the development of something continues post the point of production, hinder the standardization that supermarkets encourage. It might seem an irrelevant point now, but I know several Korean women who can’t make kimchi and instead rely on their mothers for a regular supply. As for Korean men, most just about have the culinary skills to add water to a pot of ramyon (noodles) or make a cup of coffee – with mix. Sorry guys! . When the older generation of kimchi makers have died out, I would imagine a lot of women will turn to supermarkets for their fix of kimchi and from that point the gradually numbing of taste buds will lead to shit, factory made kimchi becoming the bench mark.
MacDonald’s have done exactly the same with the noble burger. If you’ve ever had a real American burger, ‘loaded,’ you’ll know how superior they are. In the USA, I’d say most people have no idea what real chocolate tastes like after years of rape by crap like Hershey’s. British people aren’t more discerning. I once gave a class of 17-year-old British kids decent chocolate (Lindt 70% milk, Excellence) and the most common and mediocre of British chocolate (Cadbury’s Dairy Milk, around 26% chocolate), which is substantially better quality the Hershey’s ersatz chocolate. They didn’t know which was which but they mostly voted the inferior chocolate the best. And British people are beginning to forget what real pork and bacon is like after years of abuse by pork that is pumped full of water and bacon that is similarly sodden with water and then ‘smoked’ by chemicals. Most British pork and bacon you can no longer fry as it ends up swimming in so much water they are effectively braised. Impregnation with water is what is probably going to happen with pork in Korea, which will rain torrents on samy-kyeop-sal (Korean pork barbecue) and kimchi and mekgeolli, in the hands of factory processes and supermarkets, will probably end up being similarly adulterated.
Take kimchi for example, the taste changes over anything up to several years and ‘maturation’ is greatly affected by temperature. Fermentation introduces random elements into food production that factory systems don’t like and it is safer for the image of brands to have products that are always mediocre, and hence reliable in their mediocrity, than ones where random elements occasionally deal both superb and inferior products. Most of our factory food, whether it be fast food burgers to almost anything in a supermarket, has been reduced to mediocrity. I remember when Indian restaurants in Britain all differed from each other. Not only was chicken served ‘on’ or ‘off the bone,’ choices you are never given today, but every restaurant cooked differently because the companies that were to supply all the ‘cook in sauces,’ standardise them and dominant the industry, had not yet been developed. Restaurants depended on the skills and creative talents of their chefs and eating out in an Indian was a culinary experience. I’ve even eaten curry garnished with melted silver leaf (varq) but again, you no longer see this creative addition. Standardization has killed the curry to the point crap factory products become the bench mark and preferred taste and in the process the chef is deskilled and becomes a ‘cook.’ Now, you can eat a korma in Newcastle or Cornwall and it will taste and look exactly the same – usually sickly yellow, sweet, and populated by uniform cubes of tasteless chicken. Yes, it’s cooked in a restaurant but the components are produced by mass factory processes. Even the pickles are now mass-produced.
It was the variation and randomness of British Indian restaurants that made them so exciting and it is currently the same variation that enlivens the experience of kimchi and makgeolli. Like most of the makgeolli type drinks you can now buy, and most of the packaged kimchi, the fermentation process has been terminated. Ten years ago, all makgeolli bottles had a hole on the top to allow the fermentation process to continue and so was packeted kimchi. Today, they are treated to kill the micro-organisms which so miraculously collaborate to transform a pile of boring cabbage into kimchi and rice into makgeolli. You don’t really appreciate the explosive potential of makgeolli until you’ve brewed it and believe me, it can pack a punch far more powerful than champagne.
The allure of making your own makgeolli and kimchi, lies in the fascinating interplay, a kaleidoscope of activity, that is produced when enzymes and environment collide and every production is a little different – and the difference continues to develop. And they are so very much alive; both kimchi and real makgeolli have a ‘zing’ that is absent when bottled or packeted. No matter how good a commercial makgeolli or kimchi is there is something they lack and quite simply, it is life. Homemade kimchi and makgeolli are full of ‘zeng’ (ie – ‘saeng,’ 생 -生), which is the Hanja (Character) for ‘life’ or ‘living.’ The moment you taste real kimchi or real makgeolli you taste life, it has a quality that with clinically dead food is only ever an approximation. Bottled makgeolli, boiled to death, is artificially resuscitated and put on a carbonated life support but despite the bubbles and facade of life, it is a zombie in comparison to makgeolli that has been allowed to retain its miraculous micro-organic population.
If you want kimchi that is always ever just, ‘just’ (그냥), well, the Chinese are making it in abundance. In my local Chinese store in the UK you can buy Kimchi made in the PRC that has not only been killed prior to packaging, but suitably embalmed in liquid chemical environment hostile to any micro-organic activity and then entombed in a can! And believe me, it tastes as bad as it sounds.
Kimchi and makgeolli are incredibly easy to make and doing so is fun. Homemade kimchi is much cheaper than the packet, supermarket variety and you can make around 8 liters of makgeolli from about 1.3 kilograms of rice (costing about 6000W – £6) which compared with shop bought makgeolli, is about half price. But more to the point, it is more about preserving taste and culture, than cost!
For more information on making makgeolli, visit Mister Makgeolli , and for information on making kimchi, visit: Kimchi Gone Fusion.
Bathhouse Ballads chronicles many aspects of my life in South Korea. Kimchi Gone Fusion focuses on ‘the way of the pickled cabbage’ while Mister Makgeolli is dedicated to Korean rice wine.
©Bathhouse Ballads – 努江虎 – 노강호 2011 Creative Commons Licence.
Mission Makgeolli – Definitive Recipes
Makgeolli (막걸리) and the closely related dongdongju (동동주) are Korean rice wines which are fairly easy to make. Such rice based fermented alcohols are common across Asia and in the case of makgeolli and dongdongju are the first fruits of a process which if continued and elaborated upon, leads to drinks such as saki. Unlike saki, which looks like water, makgeolli and dongdongju are of a milky appearance often with rice floating in the drink and sediment which necessitates it being stirred or shaken before serving. Dongdongju, often called nongju because of its association with farmers (농), is basically the same recipe as makgeolli but with an additional step in the process. I shall henceforth use the term ‘makgeolli’ when referring to the brewing process of both drinks.
straining the wine through a muslin bag
Originally, makgeolli was a rural alcohol, a sort of home brew and until recently you could neither buy it in cans or cartons as the fermentation was ongoing. Commercial methods have now established the drink in cities where it has gained a somewhat ‘trendy’ image being combined with pulped fruit, yogurt and Chilsung Cider (Seven Up or Sprite). Some companies have also started producing a ‘well being’ variation which uses schisandra (五味子). There is now a wide range of available brands and although makgeolli is naturally ‘bubbly,’ some versions are carbonated – probably as they are boiled to kill the fermentation process and hence lose their natural ‘gassy’ quality.
On parade
Served while still fermenting, it is has the quality of an alcoholic ice cream soda, being both light and creamy, a little like medieval syllabub. The recipe below is still being adjusted but it produces a brew that my Korean friends are happy to drink and if undiluted, is quite potent. Sugar and water, or sprite can always be added to adjust the drink to your own specific preference.
Is it Beer or a Wine?
Perhaps the best method of classification is based on alcohol by volume (ABV). If the brew is in excess of 10% ABV, then it is a ‘wine’, if under 10% ABV it is closer to a beer. Under this classification commercial makgeolli, which is usually 5-7% ABV, would be a ‘beer.’ On the other hand, Japanese Saki, traditionally containing about 16% ABV, is a wine.
For more information on makgeolli click here: (pages: Mister Makgeolli).
©努江虎 – 노강호 2011 Creative Commons Licence.
Mission Makgeolli – Brewing Batch 7
squeezing the wine from the mash
The aim of this brew was to try to remove the slight sourness of batch 6 that I think with too much nu-ruk and yeast but my Korean sources are all contradictory. One source will tell you that a fermentation temperature of 30 degree centigrade causes sourness, another, brewing in excess of 3 days. Batch 6 was brewed 5 days at around 22 degrees centigrade and when I gave it to friends to access it met with a favourable reception. A few friends said it was still a little sour while others said it was perfect and indeed one asked if he could have a bottle. The sourness was mild as I had only added minimal ‘sugar.’ Slowly adding sugar, corn syrup or honey, until the desired sweetness it reached, removes sourness.
In batch 7 I standardized my measurements and in the process reduced both the amount of nu-ruk and yeast. I also terminated fermentation at 3 days. I then added ‘sugar’ to the brew, comparing it with shop bought makgeolli, which after my home-brew is surprisingly sweet – too much so.
The only difference between the commercial product and the home-brew is commercial makgeolli is pure white, carbonated and sweeter.
For my perfected recipe on brewing makgeolli, visit: Makgeolli Mania at Kimchi Gone Fusion
©박민수 2011 Creative Commons Licence.
Related articles
- Mission Makgeolli – Brewing Batches 6-7 (elwood5566.net)
- Mission Makgeolli (elwood5566.net)
Mission Makgeolli – Brewing Batches 6-7
makgeolli, rice wine, batches 2-5
I’ve been searching for a Korean rice wine (makgeolli / dong dong-ju) recipe for over ten years and it’s only been in the last two years that information has begun to surface on the internet. You can sink this unique Korean drink with as much ease as glass of milk, especially when the weather is hot or you are thirsty and it is often an accompaniment taken on hikes up the mountain or wherever there is likely to be some physical exertion.
The popular 'well-being' schisandra makgeolli. (오미자 막걸리)
Several of my friends told me it would be difficult to brew either makgeolli (막걸리) or dong dong-ju (동동주) but after one failed attempt, the failure caused by too warm an environment for the mash, a successful batch emerged. Though it was a little weak, it was perfectly enjoyable. My next five batches significantly increased in size but ended up being rather bitter. I could have added a lot more sugar to compensate but didn’t and three weeks later, they are still fermenting. I blended these five batches together and while they are certainly stronger than a strong wine (14%), they are not as potent as soju (around 20%) so I reckon the kick is about 16-17%. I made batches of both makgeolli and dong dong-ju though to be honest there seemed to be little difference between them and I ended up mixing both types.
The nu-ruk (누룩) after being 'pounded' in the blender
The recipe below is based on my sixth batch (11th December 2011) though I suspect I might have to reduce the amount of wheat yeast to curb a tendency towards bitterness and sourness.
I am not yet fully sure what nu-rook yeast (누룩) is though I do have a Korean recipe for it. Some sources define it as wheat yeast, others as blend of wheat and barley yeast. I do have a makgeolli recipe that uses wheat and barley grains along with the rice, boiling them together and simply adding standard yeast to make the mash. This I will try in the future. If you are in Korea, you can buy nu-rook in markets – I’ve not yet found it in any super-markets.
the 'inoculate' puree comprising nu-ruk (누룩) and yeast (효모)
I’ve discovered the yeast that looks like small seeds, as opposed fine powder, is not effective. Stick to very fine yeast, preferably dried.
Sources I researched varied in the temperatures they recommended in which to sit the mash. My first batch, perched on top of a rice cooker, was too warm and the mash failed to initialise and by the third day a mold contaminant had spoiled the batch. The next five batches sat in a warm corner of my room with the ondol floor heating on for around five days. The room temperature was around 27 degrees centigrade and uncomfortable but jars were very active. I’ve subsequently found that fermentation will occur at 20 degrees (centigrade) and even at ten it continues.
batch 6, technically dong dong ju as it uses glutinous rice, about to be 'bottled'
Most of my sources suggest leaving the mash to ferment for 3 days to a week before filtering it. They also said to bottle the final alcohol but since I’ve had two bottles come close to exploding, I’ve used a large plastic screw jar, which probably hold a gallon and I’ve left the top loosely screwed in place. It is quite amazing the amount of gas that occurs during fermentation. One source said not to open bottles for two weeks! One of my bottles exploded like a champagne bottle after only 9 hours, so be cautious! I have recently started punching a small hole in the tops of the plastic bottles I store rice wine. (Ten years ago, before you could buy canned or bottled rice wine in which the fermentation process had been terminated by boiling and subsequently, often carbonated, the plastic bottles in which you bought the wine had a small hole in the cap).
straining the wine through a muslin bag
Make sure all utensils are boiled or washed in the sort of solution with which you sterilise a baby’s feeding bottle. I also swish out the jar with some soju or vodka prior to filling it with the mash.
The most tiresome part of the entire process is washing the rice. I’ve discovered using a plastic ‘muslin’ bag, or a muslin bag makes this process much easier.
the bottled dong dong-ju, ready to drink
Ingredients used for batches 6 and 7 (seven is in brackets and although seemingly of smaller proportions, I used a standard size cup rather than a rice type cup – the standard size cup probably contains twice the content))
Glutinous rice (찹쌀) 5 cups (3) Glutinous rice for dong dong-ju (동동주)
or standard rice (햅쌀) 5 cups (3) Standard rice for makgeolli (만널리)
Water 2 liters spring water (2)
Wheat Yeast (누룩) 1 cup (.5)
Yeast (효모) 1 teaspoon (.5 teaspoon)
Sugar, honey or corn syrup (물엿) as required
Equipment
rice cooker, large glass container, large rubber band, boiled cloth which can cover jar, muslin.
Wash the rice 20-30 times – until the water in which you swish it remains clear.
Let the rice stand in water for 30 mins after which give it a final rinse and drain. Be careful not to rub the rice too much between the palms as it will start to grind. Add 1.5 cups of water for every cup of rice and then cook this in the rice cooker. (other methods can be used – pot boiling, steaming, etc.)
When the rice is cooked let it stand for several hours before turning off the rice cooker to let it cool.
In a sterilised bowl and the ground nu-rook and yeast and mix it with a little warm water until it is a paste. Do not be tempted to do this in a blender as it might explode.
Put the rice into the glass jar and add about 1 liter of water. Mix the ingredients before adding the blended yeast inoculate and then mix together.
You should now put a sterilised cloth over the jar and secure it with an elastic band.
Stir the mixture once in the morning and in the evening being sure to do so with a sterilised ladle.
You will know if the mash as initialised as you will both see rice particles floating up and down in the jar and see and hear the exchange of gases. From the third day, though I might possibly wait until the fifth, you can pour the mash into a sterilised muslin bag and then proceed to squeeze liquid out of the rice into a storage vessel. Sugar, or corn syrup etc, can be added at this stage and the brew diluted to taste with spring water. In batches 6 and 7 I used about a liter of water. Both types of rice wine are commercially sold at about 5% alcohol and supposedly the undiluted brew from this recipe is around 16%. At an estimate it is probably about 7% if diluted with a liter of water.
It is often mixed with Sprite or Chilsung Cider and also drinking yogurt and this is especially useful if the brew is a little bitter or sour.
Fermentation will continue after this process but the brew is now ready to drink but give the contents a stir or shake before pouring.
NOTES ON BATCH 6 (removed from fermentation jar on December 16th after 6 days at around 22 degrees centigrade). As I mentioned earlier, I added 1 liter of spring water to the wine and about half a cup of corn syrup. There is only a touch of sourness with no bitterness. This is the best batch I’ve made so far in terms of balance.
Batch 7, prepared on December 16th, uses slightly less yeast – update to follow.
batch 7 at the start of fermentation
I have used several sources in the quest for the best recipe but I am indebted to Max from Zedomax.com. This was the first decent recipe I found and without his help I’d still be floundering. Cheers, Max!
For my perfected recipe on making makgeolli, visit: Makgeolli Mania at Kimchi Gone Fusion
©박민수 2011 Creative Commons Licence.
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- Mission Makgeolli (elwood5566.net)
Mission Makgeolli
my first batch of dong-dong ju, light, fizzy and refreshing
I often mention how a mere twelve years ago, even 8 years ago, there was very little information on the internet about Korea. Indeed, my attempts at making kimchi and various other recipes as well as learning Korean and hanja, all began with books rather than internet sources. Until recently, there was little available in English in relation to Korean culture. I’m being cynical, but now you don’t really need to come to Korea to discover its secrets because they’ve been exposed to the entire world.
nu-ruk (누룩), a type of yeast made from wheat
I’ve been searching for a makgeolli recipe for over ten years. With the price of a bottle so cheap it’s pointless making your own brew in Korea but back in the UK kimchi is difficult to buy and makgeolli next to impossible. Every six months or so, I’d do a web search and it has only been in the last few years that information has began to emerge. I am now fairly confident at brewing Korean rice wine but my next quest is to learn how to make the wheat and barley type yeast, known as nu-rook (누룩), which is essential both for this recipe and that of the rice drink, shik-hye (식혜). Nu-ruk is not available in the UK. The problem is compounded because a good number of Koreans, especially younger Koreans, have as much knowledge about the purpose of nu-ruk in the production of makgeolli as a British youngster might have about rennet in the process of making junket. Indeed, I’ve met Koreans who had no idea what nu-ruk is.
my first successful batch of dong-dong ju mash sitting fermenting on top of my rice cooker
Anyone who has lived in Korea will be aware of the variations in rice wine, namely between makgeolli and dong-dong ju (동동주). Learning the difference has taken a long time and I’m still not a hundred percent sure my understanding is correct. Misinformation abounds on the internet and even Koreans can be unsure of the difference. Some sources will tell you both versions are different strains of the same mash but the most plausible is that dong-dong ju is produced with sticky rice and makgeolli from standard rice. One source I recently read, western in origin, claimed the name dong-dong ju referred to the small bits of rice that float on the surface, like ‘shit.’ Of course, this is incorrect because ‘shit’ in Korean is ‘ddong’ (똥) and not ‘dong.’ (동). Sometimes, dong-dong ju is known as nong-ju (농주) because of its association with farmers (nong-sa 농사, farming).
3 cups of rice produced nearly two litres of ,wine’ though I may have over diluted it
The process of making rice wine is quite simple, despite being told by numerous friends that it was both difficult and time-consuming. With only five ingredients, rice, water, nu-ruk, yeast and syrup, the most laborious part of the process was washing the rice, around twenty times, and sterilizing equipment. Apart from a jar and some muslin, all other equipment is basic though a coffee type grinder is needed if the nu-rook hasn’t been previously ground.
subsequent batches of mash – both from glutinous rice and standard rice
Once again, information on temperature varies. I originally put my jar on the top of my rice cooker, set to ‘keep warm’ mode. However, this was too warm and I think the active enzymes were killed and mould quickly formed. I was originally aiming for a temperature of around 82 degrees and had read that over 97 is detrimental. For my second attempt (dong-dong ju), I then placed a few plates between the top of the metal rice cooker bowl and the jar of mash and this brewed successfully. The process took 4.5 days and my initial batch consisted of 3 cups of rice which when further diluted produced about 1.5 liters of drink. The alcohol content was probably around 4% and a little weaker than I like and I only added about 2 table spoons of syrup. Unlike my first batch, the activity in the mash was high with plenty of bubbles and if you put your ear close to the jar, a constant busy fizzle.
I have now gone on to start five other brews using both glutinous rice and standard rice. The jars of mash are kept in a heat trap under my TV and at a point on the floor over the ondol heating pipes. Currently, I’ve set my room temperature to around 25 degrees (around 68 degrees Fahrenheit) but as I find this uncomfortable, I want to test a brew at around 21 degrees.
When I have perfected my technique and have discovered the secrets of nu-ruk, I will post details.
©박민수 2011 Creative Commons Licence.
My Discovery of the Existence of Bathhouses – January 18th – 22nd, 2001 (Korean Accounts 2000-2001)
On the first day of the Chinese New Year (설날), Ryo Hyu-sun (료휴선) took me to the cinema. We watched Proof of Life with Russell Crowe and Meg Ryan. I was expecting to have to sit in really cramped seats but there was ample leg room. Afterwards we wandered around the city centre in the area known as Milano which is at the very heart of the city. This area is teeming western designer label stores and up-market malls. We ate ddokpogi (떡볶이) in a small back street cafe. Korean eating establishments usually focus on one food type and this was the speciality of this restaurant. A larger gas burner is placed on your table and the ingredients added. These included shredded Chinese lettuce, mushrooms, carrots, giant rice noodles the size of your finger, smaller noodles, whole eggs and squares of a sort of pancake made from powdered fish which is called odeng (어댕). Mandu (만두), which are small stuffed pancakes or dumplings are also added. Water and some condiments are added and then the burner lit. You then stir the meal until it is ready to eat when it is accompanied by none other than kimchi as well as a kimchi made with mooli known as moo-kimchi (무김치). Ddokpogi is served by many of the street vendors that crowd the sidewalks of Korean cities. These are usually served in a pint paper cup with a large cocktail stick to eat the fat noodles. Restaurant ddokpogi however, is much more tasty. Once the meal is finished a waitress then put some oil in the pan, adds rice, condiments and kim which is layered, salted seaweed. This is then boiled up with a copious serving of red pepper paste.
Hyo-sun’s mum and dad, Lunar New Year, 2001
Afterwards, Ryo Hyu-sun took me to his parent’s house. They live in a traditional style house in a part of Song So with which I was unfamiliar. All Ryo Hyu-sun’s relatives were there. The children wore their traditional hanboks (한복) which are baggy, very colourful and made from a sort of silk-like material. Ryo Hyu-sun’s mother must be in her late 60’s but sat on the floor cross-legged with an impeccably straight posture. She could sit in this position and touch her nose to the floor. Several other relatives arrived and took it in turns to prostrate themselves on the floor in front of his mother and father. Then a meal was served, of pig brain and pig’s trotters. I avoided the brains but the trotter meat was fine. We also drank soju but one that had been suspended over the year in a bottle containing ginseng. Then we ate the traditional rice cake soup (칼국수). After eating we played yut which is a traditional festive game played sat around a mat with several sticks which are thrown. By this time I had been sat on the floor for four hours and my legs were sore but visiting a family on such an important day was well worth the experience.
I haven’t trained in the Song So (WTF) school for almost three weeks as the routine of Letter and Sound in Yon San Dong has sapped my energy.
The heat in the building, as in most buildings, is stifling and I have discovered many westerners have a problem with scabby noses, dry skin and cracked feet. The temperature at Letter and Sound just knocks the energy out of you. My kindy class is so unresponsive that I have stopped trying to teach them. I spend the first session in the morning just talking to them – they seem quite happy with that. As I mentioned earlier, my name in school is Bilbo Baggins. The kids find that quite amusing and often call me Bilbo songsaeng-nim which is the Korean for teacher or sir. During my first few weeks at Letter and Sound I discovered that when the kids knew my name they called it out whenever and wherever they saw me. Not only would I hear my name being called all day wrong, with a slightly incorrect inflection more like Neek, and in tiring choruses, but then I would hear in at the weekend or evening when I was shopping or out walking. Neek! Neek! I would hear called from passing busses or from some building window. Bilbo is much more impersonal.
I have been teaching Pak Ji-won English at his parent’s restaurant in Song So. I enjoy teaching him as I can also have discussions with him and that certainly makes a change from singing Annie Apple or Bounshey Ben songs. Sometimes our lessons go on for several hours and then I will talk to his father over a bowl of my favourite drink, dongdong-ju which is a strange, milky rice wine alcoholic drink, before going home. Ji-won is both incredibly camp and very good-looking. Being camp is no slur here and in fact most of the young men move and behave in a way that would bring their sexuality into question in the West. They drape themselves over one another, walk around leaning on one another or holding hands and are basically very gentle (note- skinship). Ji-won shuffles around his father’s restaurant like a geisha girl, holding his forearms parallel to the floor and with his wrists bent. One day I asked him how he felt about having to go into the army as all men here do 24-27 months conscription. He told me he was excited as he was looking forward to the exercise as being a high school student entailed long inactive hours sat at a desk. He also said he was looking forward to firing guns and driving tanks but that he didn’t want to go to war or kill people. Korean lads often join the army with other friends and can be billeted together and perhaps this explains the rank of military police I saw one day in Daegu, many of whom were holding hands with each other. One day he told me how he loved my body. I found this amusing as I find it quite repulsive and he explained how he likes the fact I am broad, tall and strong. Then he asked me to go to the bath house (목육탕) with him and of course, here bathing is performed naked. I would love to experience communal baths, and not for any seedy reason – it must be quite a strange feeling to bathe naked in public. It would be strange, if not embarrassing to meet pupils and colleagues starkers and to have to bow and chat to them so perhaps I’ll do this in another town, Andong (안동), perhaps? It’s bad enough being stared at when clothed (note – this is my first mention of bathhouses. I was in Korea almost three months before I learnt of their existence – remember – there was little or nothing on the internet on such subjects).
I often try to imagine the image Koreans must have of themselves and each other considering they look, or at least appear to look so much more identical than do westerners. They must have an incredible sense of ‘racial’ individuality, of togetherness. While they tend to differ in height – and some Koreans are as tall as me (1.99cm), there are few fat Koreans and of course they all have dark hair, eyes and similar complexions. Many Koreans have no protrusion at the back of their heads like we do in the west and a Korean child’s head feels very strange.
Elwood 5566 
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