The Malaysian state of Sabah is located in the northern-most point of the Bornean region. For generations, rice has been a big part of the way of life for the Kadazan-Dusun, one of the state’s biggest ethnic groups.
Rice wine from the Orient such as Japanese sake, Korean soju and Chinese baijiu are more likely to be found in cocktail bars around the world in comparison to other variations of rice spirits.
Alcohol industry manager, Spiros Malandrakis reckons we’ll be seeing a growing interest in “hyperlocal spirits” and their origins this year. He tells The Drinks Business magazine that mixologists are bound to take charge of the trend that will eventually trickle down to retailers.
For bartenders and spirit enthusiasts who are who are looking to claim find to a more uncommon spirit, the Sabahan ‘lihing’ from northern Borneo is one to watch.
Lihing, which translates to ‘rice wine’ in the Kadazan language is an under-commercialised spirit in both the local and global market.
Until today, based on the surviving Kadazan-Dusun animism beliefs, rice wine is offered to the rice spirit, Bambaazon during the annual Harvest Festival held in May. Rice wine was also believed to make a person courageous and is often offered as a token of appreciation.
Tambunan is an interior district of Sabah located about an hour and a half’s drive from its capital Kota Kinabalu (KK).
The area is well-known among locals for its rice wine. However, ask almost any Sabahan and she or he is likely to know someone in the family who makes rice wine.
On a whim, we retrace the steps of rice wine makers and head southeast towards Tambunan.
Ninety minutes later, plus a casual drive-through the raging rivers of Kaingaran, we find ourselves at Tambunan Traditional Cottage Industry.
In this cottage industry, there’s no fancy industrial-sized machinery.
Its ‘factory’ is a medium-sized single-storey building with minimal fixtures: basic wooden shelves and a portable steel sink. The only measuring apparatus using the metric system in the factory is an analog steel kitchen scale in the backroom.
Even the rice-to-water ratio is estimated by eye. A long unmarked wooden paddle is used to measure the water level in the pot.
The colour of lihing or rice wine varies from a light yellow to a bright amber. It smells stronger than it tastes. On the nose it has a savoury yet mildly sour scent. On the palate it starts off with a hint of sweetness and finishes on a slightly bitter note.
According to factory manager, Dave, a good rice wine must have a balance between bitter and sweet:
“The quantity of water will affect the taste of the lihing. If you use less water it becomes sweeter; use more water and it becomes bitter.”
24-year-old Dave was recently promoted from assistant manager. It’s a big step up having just started work at the factory nearly a year and a half ago.
“The previous manager left to run his own business. Now there’s just three of us working at this factory. I’m still learning,” he explains humbly.
The trio produces 250–300 bottles of rice wine each month. Unfortunately, due to the constant change in management over the years, business relationships with potential importers, particularly in China, fell through.
Dave first learned to make rice wine back in his hometown in Sinsuran where his aunts would make ‘tumpung’.
“At home, I would prefer to make tumpung rather than lihing. The process is shorter,” he explains.
Tumpung is made using regular white rice instead of glutinous rice, which is used in lihing. It’s a similar yet simpler process. For tumpung, the mixture of cooked rice and yeast, or sasad, is added to an empty mineral bottle and left to ferment.
Sasad is traditionally used to ferment the sugars in rice. The greenish-white coloured powder is also derived from rice.
For those who are familiar with the communal concept of the popular South American herb drink ‘yerba mate’, the consumption of ‘tumpung’ poses a similar scenario.
The fermented rice in tumpung can be likened to the function of tea leaves. To consume, simply add water to a cup of tumpung, drink through a straw, and — most importantly — share among friends. Once finished, simply refill with more water.
At Kadazan-Dusun celebrations, people can be seen drinking tumpung through a narrow bamboo straw from a communal ceramic jar. But Dave reckons lihing fares better in the market than tumpung.
“With tumpung, you have to add your own water. Lihing, or rice wine, is more convenient for consumption.
The younger people here prefer rice wine over beer because it’s cheaper and has a higher alcohol content.”
Only three ingredients are needed
to make the Sabahan rice wine: glutinous rice, yeast and water. However, as with any dish, the more simple it is, the easier it is to mess up.
If you’re unfamiliar with Kadazan-Dusun customs and superstitions, this rice wine-making process may appear complicated and rather unusual.
While there is no particular season to make ‘lihing’, restrictions apply to the person making it.
For starters, you need to be mindful of your diet prior to making rice wine. “You can’t touch or eat sour foods beforehand because it will make the lihing sour too,” Dave explains with a straight face.
Apparently the old folks also believe a person’s ability to make good rice wine will eventually wear out over time.
And if you’re a woman on your menses, you can’t be involved in any part of the lihing-making process —not even handling any of the tools. “There used to be a lady who worked here. If it was the time of the month for her, she won’t come into work.”
Dave doesn’t seem to think too much of the superstition that is likely to appear as discriminatory and sexist in western society.
“That’s just the way it is. From way back then, the traditions and superstitions have been like this.”
Additionally, if you’re in a bad mood or just don’t feel like it, you won’t be allowed to make rice wine. Perhaps there is a certain logic to this superstition as carelessness in the kitchen can easily ruin a dish.
“At first I didn’t believe this,” begins Dave. “I haven’t tested out the myth by intentionally making rice wine while I was angry. But I suppose it’s true since the factory enforces this rule and has briefed us beforehand.”
To test out the superstition would be a relatively costly experiment for Dave and his colleagues. “It’s a huge lost if we waste a sack of rice. A fifty-kilogram bag of rice like this costs RM233 (approximately US$57.50) and another RM7 (about US$1.75) for a packet of yeast. The price of rice has gone up drastically too. Back in the day it was around RM90 per bag (about US$22.20).”
“We use rice imported from Thailand. We don’t use local glutinous rice because we don’t produce enough. ”
Rejected rice wine will be distilled to make ‘montoku’, a strong Sabahan liquor.
Just like the vodka-making process, once the rice wine is heated, the ethanol vapour is collected, cooled and condensed.
“The alcohol content in lihing is 20 percent. I’m not quite sure about montoku. All I know is that it produces a blue flame when it’s set on fire,” says Dave.
As we begin to sample the spirits, starting with half a shot of montoku or distilled wine— on an empty stomach nonetheless — we ask Dave for his fail-safe hangover cure.
“Eat ‘sambal’, soups, or anything hot and spicy. Your hangover will be gone almost immediately. You can drink coconut water too, or another glass of ‘lihing’.”
On the side of the building
Dave’s staff, Didi, brings out a ‘tajau’ — a large earthenware jar.
“ A ‘tajau’ must be used to store the rice during the fermentation process. Plastic containers are too thin and are less resistant to heat. This makes it prone to condensation that will ruin the ‘lihing’.
The ceramic wall of a tajau is thicker, which helps regulate the temperature in the jar. If it’s too hot or too cold, the rice wine is will spoil easily. No refrigeration is needed. Just keep the jar in a shaded area,” says Dave.
“The first step of cleaning the tajau is to place a sheet of burning newspaper inside the jar. This is to kill off any germs or bacteria.”
“Then we rinse it out with water and scrub the inside of the jar using green leaves. Here, we use lemongrass. But you can also use leaves from a guava or papaya tree. I don’t think the type of leaves will affect the taste of the rice wine.”
Cooking methods
Bring a large pot of water to boil. Add uncooked glutinous rice to boiling water. Remove any impurities that float to the surface.
“The rice must not be pre-washed,” stresses Dave.
“This is very important. Glutinous rice expands and can lose its sweetness easily. I’ve tried making lihing using pre-washed rice grains. The results were inconsistent. Certain batches were either really bitter or really sweet.”
Bring the water back to boil. Be sure to control the fire; too big and it will leave the rice with an unpleasant smokey taste.
“With a smaller fire, the cooking time is longer but the quality is definitely better. The optimum cooking time is about 30–40 minutes.”
“As soon as it starts to boil again, give it a good stir. Turn off the fire, cover and leave it until the rice absorbs all the water.”
The usual ratio of rice-to-yeast is a hundred grams of yeast for every ten kilograms of rice. But if you want your rice wine to be thicker and more potent, use nine kilograms of rice instead. The more yeast used, the stronger the alcohol content.
The processing room
Didi scoops out the cooked rice and methodologically spreads it on a tarped surface. He then rhythmically slices into each mound of rice at a 45-degree angle using a plastic plate.
Instead of standing over the rice and fanning it by hand — as a cook in a traditional sushi restaurant would have done — Dave uses an electric stand fan. “Shortcut,” he jokes.
When it comes to rice, nothing goes to waste in this factory. Even the rice crust from the bottom of the pot is set aside. “We’ll just bring this home for the cat,” says Dave.
Once the rice is cool, Didi divides the glutinous spread into rectangular sections
using a wooden paddle — the same one that was used to measure the water level during the cooking process. He tells us that this is to ease the process of flipping the rice over.
Didi then sprinkles the yeast evenly over the cooled rice. Dave, who has been watching over Didi the whole time, points out a spot that he missed.
It is this kind of attention to detail and the ingrained gut-feel and know-how that makes this ‘lihing’ process fascinating.
“I don’t think the taste of rice wine made in different regions around Sabah is very different. It all depends on the person sprinkling the yeast — it really makes a difference.”
The rice and yeast mixture is transferred into a ceramic jar or ‘tajau’. The jar is then covered with a muslin cloth to trap any water vapour.
The following day, a sheet of plastic will be secured over the cloth to help retain heat in the jar. “You can’t open and close the jar during the fermentation process. It can only be opened for a taste test after it has fermented for a week. If it’s good enough, we’ll leave it to mature for a month.”
A longer fermentation period does not necessarily produce better rice wine. “The longer you leave the rice to ferment, the more ‘lihing’ it will produce. But the taste will be noticeably bland.”
The final step
After a month-long wait, the rice wine is ready to be collected. The cloth and plastic covering on the jar is replaced with a fine netting that acts as a sieve.
In one swift motion, Dave overturns the jar into a plastic bucket. The weight of the jar is supported by thin ropes tied across the bucket.
The unfiltered rice wine will then be transferred back into a steel pot to be boiled, sieved and cooled before being bottled.
Again, nothing goes to waste in this factory, especially rice. Once the lihing is extracted, the leftover fermented rice will be dried and sold. And what ever for, you may ask? To make more alcohol, of course.
“Just mix it with water, strain and drink,” Dave says with a shrug before excusing himself for a cigarette break.
|‘How to Make Bornean Rice Wine’ is a multimedia story that is part of ‘Plates’ magazine. Coming soon this August.
| ‘Plates’ magazine seeks to deconstruct stories and cultures behind everyday ingredients. Issue 01 begins with rice.
| In the meantime, stay in touch with us @platesmagazine on Instagram and Facebook for the latest updates.
