Flower Power

Never have I felt more strongly about the tradition of o-hanami than this year. So much beauty and grace in the midst of chaos.

Sake Solidarity

Disregard the misspelling. Never mind that the staff at my local sake shop drives me crazy (I resisted the urge to throttle the clerk, who, after keeping me waiting for 15 minutes, pulled out an abacus to tally up my purchases). I fully support the sentiment behind this sign -- and the others like it posted around the store, which urge customers to "save Fukushima" and Miyagi.

When the earthquake hit on March 11, we knew it was a big one but didn't realize the scope of the destruction it had wrought in Tohoku. The news coverage that followed showed horrifying images of whole towns that had been wiped from the face of the earth. We watched in stunned silence as the tsunami rolled inexorably across the city of Sendai, sweeping up a jumble of cars, boats, and buildings as it stretched further and further inland.

"It's not stopping," I said, shaking my head in disbelief and clutching my sweater.

"Those poor people," JP whispered solemnly.

The video clip lasted for an interminable five minutes. A lone car trying to outrun the tsunami raced across the bottom right hand of the screen, barely escaping the deluge. My throat tightened and I shivered; I've never been a strong swimmer.

I shook the thought from my head and turned suddenly toward JP: "Oh my god -- the poor brewers."

Many sake producers in the north suffered structural damage to their brewing and storage facilities. Some breweries, like Suminoe in Ishinomaki, Miyagi prefecture, were completely razed, although I've since heard that they intend to rebuild. Fortunately, no human casualties have been reported, but Tohoku's brewers lost several tons of sake as tanks toppled over and bottles were smashed. In some cases, the rice was also ruined. These losses, in conjunction with the fuel shortages and infrastructure problems that have halted shipments, have dealt a considerable financial blow to the industry, and groups like the Japan Sake Brewer's Association Junior Council are collecting donations to help producers get back on their feet. For those interested in donating, my sake brother Tim from Urbansake.com has posted helpful tips in English that will walk you through the process.

Perhaps most threatening, though, is the fear of radiation contamination that has already crippled the agriculture, fishing, and restaurant industries in Japan (the government call for jishuku, or self-restraint, that has canceled spring festivals and discouraged hanami parties has done little to help the situation). Sadly, this problem is sure to affect the entire sake world. The other day, John Gauntner told me that at least one restaurant in Las Vegas has stopped buying sake, while Hiroko and Rick of Sakaya mentioned that a few of their customers were also spooked. It's hard to say whether the Japanese will feel the same way, but if so many people are already afraid of drinking the water in Tokyo, I doubt that they'll feel safe drinking sake from Fukushima. This is particularly worrying for small brewers in the region like Niida Honke, who grow their rice locally and were very close to reaching their goal of becoming fully organic by 2013.

Some of my favorite producers -- Suehiro, Daishichi, Hiroki, Kokken, Niida Honke, just to name a few -- are in Fukushima. It's not that surprising when you consider that it's one of the largest sake-making regions in the country. And you can bet that I won't stop buying sake from there, or anywhere else in Japan.

Don't let fear sink the sake industry. Help keep sake alive. Keep drinking.