The first time Blake and I stepped into a Japanese grocery store, we investigated a curious display of jugs and cartons and fruit and rock sugar. Obviously, these things were meant to go together in some way, but, much like a monkey with a disassembled bicycle, we were at a loss as to how to get onboard. The only english sign said this: "It is now the season for fruit liqueur." We were very happy that this was the season for such a thing, but it wasn't until I took an off-base grocery shopping class that I learned how to make the stuff.
Here are the ingredients, minus the alcohol, which for some reason I forgot to put in the picture. The alcohol is called so-chu. No, I do not know what that means, but I do know that it smells like moonshine and is 35% alcohol. Anyway, these are the ingredients for plum wine. When we picked up the fruit, I was very confused. The fruit looked like the most under ripe plum you could ever imagine. I could not fathom making any kind of anything from something so far from its sweet and tasty end product. Lo and behold, they are actually apricots. How Japanese apricots and what is basically rubbing alcohol translate into plum wine, I have no idea. The bag on the right is the rock sugar.
Here are all the liqueurs I made. On the left front is a freshly put-together plum wine. The container in the back with the floaters is a two-day-old plum wine. The one in the middle front is garlic liqueur. I saw the recipe for it on the alcohol container and knew I had to try it. It's alcohol and three heads of peeled garlic. Apparently it's good on steak and for dipping gyoza (meat dumplings which are heavenly). Apparently it is not good for drinking. The one just behind the garlic is cherry and the one next to that is orange. You can just see part of the alcohol container on the right hand side.
All of this alcohol is sitting under the kitchen floor. What does that mean, you may ask. Well, Japanese houses often have little storage places in the floor of the kitchens. You can put canned goods or whatever in them. I have filled it with these jars. Whenever I open it to give the jars a quick shake, the garlic smell immediately punches me in the face then runs off to infiltrate the rest of the house. Luckily, the door has a good seal on it so the house doesn't constantly smell like garlic, not that I'd mind really, but probably the general public would. We also have a hidey hole in the bathroom floor. I do not know what is supposed to go in there. I wouldn't put any paper products in there because in this humidity, it would rot in probably a week. Maybe it's where you store the canned goods you use in the bathroom... because the options are so many.
In conclusion, the drinks will be served in six months. So, they are an extra incentive for anyone who wants to visit us at Christmas. Which, by the way, is the only guaranteed time Blake will be home. So, if you want to see The Man (and drink homemade fruit liqueur), then come celebrate with us in Japan!
