As the granddaughter of Korean rice farmers who brewed rich, viscous makgeolli to keep their six sons sated while planting in the fields, my journey of learning about and consuming the modern craft incarnation of this intangible Korean cultural artifact has felt like unearthing a birthright. One of Korea’s oldest alcoholic beverages, makgeolli has an interesting provenance: This unfiltered rice wine is made from the dregs at the bottom of a fermentation vessel, which were historically left for peasants after wealthier imbibers took the clear cheongju rice wine that rose to the top. Its popularity (and legality) has fluctuated over the years, but in recent decades the beverage has resurfaced and begun to attract broader attention, with Los Angeles rising as a destination for small-batch artisanal makgeolli.
Sometimes compared to natural wine, sour beer or kombucha, the flavor of makgeolli is a combination of sweet, savory and sour with a fizziness that can be eye-wideningly invigorating. Usually under 10% ABV, the drink belongs to a larger class of alcoholic beverages from Korea that are finding popularity in the United States, also called “Ksool” (K for Korean, and sool meaning alcohol), including soju. Mass-produced brands often pasteurize their makgeolli, stripping it of enzymes and probiotics, but a new crop of makgeolli producers are crafting the beverage with care.
That often involves a long process of air-fermenting nuruk, a pressed-grain fermentation starter; ste.