Chapter 56: Andong Soju (1)
TL: Hanguk
Time flew by, and early March arrived.
A spring breeze swept across the Sacramento Valley. The soil, damp all winter long, had cracked dry and was just now ready to drink in water again.
In the midst of it all, Jacob's Riverbend Rice Farm was changing in ways it never had before.
Vrrrmmm!
A tractor had rolled into the paddies, its massive frame rumbling low as it turned over the field floor. Gray earth flipped to reveal soft brown underneath. Workers were busy all around, tidying the levees, clearing stray rocks, and tamping the soil smooth. Water hadn't been let in yet, but once the channels opened, gleaming paddy water would rise and the fields would be ready for transplanting.
Jacob waved from atop the tractor. Sweat glistened on his forehead in the sunlight, and his thick forearms looked even more solid than before. He killed the engine and walked over with a grin.
"Hey, you made it, Brian!"
"Hard at work, huh. You look like a real farmer."
Jacob shrugged at that.
"Got the leveling done over winter, so now I'm turning the soil for real. Gotta get the basal fertilizer down before transplanting, too."
Confidence ran through his voice. He had pressed down the grief of losing his father, and I could feel that he was truly leading the farm now, as the head of the household. I nodded, a warm sense of pride in my chest.
"Come on. Mom's probably got lunch ready by now."
"Sure."
Walking into the house, a rich soup smell hit my nose. On the table sat sandwiches, corn chowder, and a slice of warm pie. With Maggie joining us, the three of us gathered around the table, and the air felt perfectly cozy.
"Seeing this boy out since dawn, running around with the workers and driving that tractor, it puts my mind at ease."
Maggie stirred her soup, her eyes reddening.
"I was worried the farm might fall apart without his father, but he's doing just fine."
"It's all thanks to Brian. The groundwork he laid last year means I just have to give orders."
Jacob laughed, but he glanced my way and his eyes carried genuine gratitude. I just shrugged and replied.
"You're the one who put in the work. I barely helped from the sidelines."
At that, Maggie dabbed her eyes again. After a short but warm lunch, we stepped out for some air and walked along the levee path at the edge of the farm.
"So how does it feel? Now that the Laser Land Leveling's done?"
"Honestly, I didn't think much of it at first, but the more I got into the prep, the more I realized it's going to make farming so much easier. The workers had this look on their faces at first, like, 'What is this nonsense?' But once I explained it, they all came around. They know, too. All the problems that crop up when water depth isn't even."
"Good thing you managed to lead the crew through it. Couldn't have been easy."
"God... that was the hardest part. The guys Dad used to run, they wouldn't listen to me at first. Remember when you helped me out? End of last year."
"Yeah."
"When the herbicide got misapplied and wrecked the paddies, recovering from that was brutal. Adjusting the water pH, foliar-feeding nutrients, it didn't just bounce back overnight. It took forever to nurse it back."
"I'm sure it did."
"But after I took charge through that whole process and pulled it off, they started looking at me differently. The workers were the ones who botched the herbicide, but it was me, their boss's son, who saved it."
I smiled, watching Jacob beam with pride.
"Good for you."
"I owe a lot of it to you, but I busted my ass too. That's when the workers started taking me seriously, but then when we did the Laser Land Leveling and put in the pipes, things got rocky again. They were asking why I was spending money on that. Said I should save it for pest damage or drought. They had a point, but I pushed through. A few of them gave me these disappointed looks."
"Workers who've been farming for years are always confident in their own experience."
"They all think they're the real experts when it comes to farming. But once it was done, things shifted a bit. When I told them we even got some support from the NRCS, that seemed to win them over."
"Man... managing people is tough, huh?"
"Tell me about it."
Jacob chuckled sheepishly, then his expression turned bitter.
"Farming's a strange thing. You turn the soil, transplant the seedlings, harvest in the fall, and stack it all in the warehouse, and you feel great. When produce piles up like a mountain from this endless stretch of land... I felt like I had the whole world. Especially last year, when I filled the warehouse with my own hands."
"So why the long face?"
"The funny thing is, once you convert it to money, it's nothing. Looking at you and Chloe... oh! Don't tell Armando. He'd think I'm way better off than he is."
"Don't worry. I won't say anything to Armando."
"Anyway, looking at you and Chloe, even though we're all farming, I'm jealous. Our margins are completely different. When I filled up the warehouse last year? I stacked up 15,000 bags at 50 pounds (about 22.7 kg) each. And you know how much I made? Just over 90,000 dollars. Without government subsidies, there's no way to survive. I know your methods will boost my revenue a lot, but still... haah..."
I patted Jacob's shoulder, feeling for him. There was no way around it, because rice prices in America were dirt cheap. In winter, the wholesale price of Calrose rice couldn't even clear 50 cents per kilogram. What more was there to say?
Switching to M-206 and applying scientific farming methods would push profitability up by more than 20 percent, I figured, but a dramatic improvement was simply out of reach. Unless he moved away from rice altogether, there was nothing to be done.
"Yeah, I get it."
"Sometimes I even resent my dad. Out of everything he could've grown, why rice? I don't feel that way now, but it's just... frustrating."
I understood how he felt. Grapes were just a raw material too, but once processed into wine, their value multiplied dozens of times over. Branding, storytelling, gaining recognition in the market. None of it was easy.
But that didn't mean there was no way at all. I hesitated for a moment, then spoke carefully.
"It's not like there's no way..."
"Huh? There's a way?"
"There is, but it'd be pretty damn hard."
"What is it?"
Watching Jacob's eyes light up, I furrowed my brow before answering.
"What if you made alcohol, like I do?"
Jacob stopped walking.
"Alcohol? From rice?"
His eyes were full of doubt.
"Yeah, in Korea, they make alcohol from rice. So if you said you wanted to make Korean-style liquor, it's doable... but the choice is yours."
"Of course I'd do it! I know the kind of reviews your wine's been getting. Korean liquor can't be that much harder!"
I held up a hand to calm him down.
"Hear me out first. There are two types that'd work. One is called makgeolli, which is a takju, an unfiltered fermented rice wine. But it needs cold-chain distribution, and since this isn't Korea, the flavor would be unfamiliar to people, so I wouldn't recommend it. The other is a distilled spirit."
"Distilled spirits are common enough. Vodka, whiskey, tequila... but you can make a distilled spirit from rice?"
"Yeah. It's common in Korea, and it's a traditional liquor. Anyone who likes spirits would probably be into it. And since the base ingredient is Calrose medium-grain rice, it's actually well-suited as a raw material for Korean traditional liquor."
"Wow. Sounds great... but there's a catch, right?"
"There is. For distilled spirits, setting up the distillation equipment is pretty expensive."
"Ugh... money again."
Jacob's face fell and his head drooped, but then he looked back up at me.
"But liquor's your thing, isn't it? Is there a reason you're not doing it yourself?"
"It's not like I never thought about it. Honestly, I was going to try it myself, but if I start making distilled spirits at the winery on top of everything else, I'd have way too much on my plate. And I don't think it'd be great for the winery's brand, either. I figured maybe in five or ten years when I had more breathing room, but if it's you, I can teach you the techniques."
"Really? Same terms as before?"
"Yeah. You get 70, I get 30. You'll be the one taking out the loans, and you'll be the one brewing it. But it won't be easy."
Doing everything myself and pocketing all the profits just wasn't realistic. Wine alone demanded my attention on a hundred different fronts. If I stretched myself to cover distilled spirits too, one side or the other would suffer.
Especially in the US, the legal restrictions on making distilled spirits were considerably strict, and obtaining a license was extremely complex and difficult. On top of that, the small-farm distillery tax break wouldn't come until 2017, which was still a long way off, so for now the tax was the same as what the big corporations paid: 20 cents per bottle. And if the alcohol content went up to 40 percent, the tax jumped to over 2 dollars a bottle, making it ten times what wine was taxed.
Looked at that way, having Jacob shoulder all the risk to produce soju while I took a 30 percent stake was, if anything, an extremely favorable deal for me.
"How much of a loan would I need?"
"Probably... at least 200 to 300 thousand dollars, and on the high end, around a million?"
At the mention of a million dollars, Jacob's face went ashen.
"Oh... damn! That's huge."
"I said on the high end. But I haven't looked into it thoroughly yet... I need to check the specifics again. And the licensing might be even more complicated than the money. Distilled spirits require a federal TTB (Tax and Trade Bureau) license and a state ABC (Alcohol Beverage Control) license. I mean, it's tough and complicated, but getting licensed isn't impossible. Some of the existing farms around here have distilleries."
"I see."
"Still, if you decide to go for it, the funding situation isn't hopeless either. There are various government programs available. The question is whether you're willing to take all that on."
Anyone would feel the same way. You believe you can pull it off, but when someone tells you to take on a few hundred thousand in debt and start something, it's only natural to hesitate.
But unlike the anguished expression he'd worn until now, Jacob looked me straight in the eye without a moment's deliberation and said,
"I want to open a distillery."
"Really? It's going to be tough."
"At first I wasn't interested, but after farming the land myself and living paycheck to paycheck, I feel trapped. I think your methods will definitely improve the revenue, but even if I start a distillery, it's not like profits will come overnight, right?"
"Obviously not."
"Then I want to boost the farm's income while building my own distillery, like you did, so I can imagine a different future."
Jacob's resolve caught me off guard. I could feel the weight of his determination, a man ready to gamble everything on this.
"Running a distillery doesn't guarantee success. And this isn't Korea, this is America. Palates might be different."
"What do you think? You think a Korean-style spirit would flop here?"
Thinking it over carefully, honestly, if this were the 2020s when the Korean Wave had spread, maybe, but right now I couldn't get a read on it. What was certain was that California's Korean restaurants and Korean community made up a significant share, so there would be a baseline demand. The real question was whether it could catch on with other demographics.
That was something only trial and error could answer.
"Honestly, I'm not sure. But at least one thing's clear. Right now, cheap Asian-style soju has already entered the market. So competing on price would be stupid. You'd absolutely need to go premium, at least 30 dollars a bottle. If you position it as a global spirit that can work as a cocktail base, I think it's viable. On top of that, if you release oak-barrel-aged limited editions at 50 dollars or more per bottle, you could turn a serious profit."
Hearing me out, Jacob punched his palm with his fist.
"Yes! If it's an 80-acre farm, instead of just selling rice, building a distillery for secondary processing like your winery is clearly the answer! And if we lay down the precise farming methods you taught me as the foundation of the branding, with an Eastern aesthetic... you know what I mean? Bamboo and... grass blades and... twin swords..."
That took a sudden turn.
"Are you thinking of ninjas?"
Jacob froze for a second, then looked apologetic.
"...... Sorry, before I met you, ninjas were the only thing that came to mind when I thought of the East."
"Ninjas are a no. I'll help you nail down the image later. Whatever it ends up being, a premium spirit with an Eastern aesthetic would definitely stand out."
"Knowing you'll help me with this is a huge relief. Whew..."
Watching Jacob exhale in relief, I felt a tremor of my own. Wine was something I'd studied thousands of times over before my regression, and I was confident I'd mastered it. But Korean distilled spirits, I only knew the theory. I'd never actually made them.
In a way, Jacob was bearing the risk while I ran the experiment. Which meant failure was absolutely not an option.
In the car on the way home, I murmured to myself.
"Andong Soju style with oak barrel aging to smooth it out? Hmm... I can picture it, but..."
Even if the Korean Wave hadn't hit America the way it had before my regression, a premium spirit, somehow, felt like it just might work.
*****
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