Everybody loves Brazil–okay except maybe the Argentines, who regularly lose to them in soccer–for its seductive music, its long, sunny days and endless beaches, and the joie de vivre of its impossibly attractive people. So it should be no surprise that bars and restaurants both local and across the US are embracing the latest arrival from that South American nation: cachaça.
Sugarcane is the raw material behind cachaça (ka-SHA-sa)–and rum. The difference between the two spirits is that most rums are produced from molasses, the sludgy syrup that remains once the sugar has been extracted from crushed sugarcane, while cachaça (and artisinal rum, sometimes labeled rhum) results from fermenting and distilling fresh and unprocessed sugarcane juice.
Long considered a peasant drink, cachaça was deemed even in recent years too rough to drink by Brazil’s elite and trendy as it was not far removed from the ethanol that fuels some of the nation’s automobiles. But new producers have learned the lesson of tequila, which underwent a similar transformation from cheap industrial product to gourmet tipple over the last fifteen or so years.
And much as tequila gradually emerged from Latin culture into the mainstream, imported primarily via the margarita, now cachaça appears ready for prime time through its starring role in the sizzling hot caipirinha (kai-peer-een-yah), the national cocktail of Brazil.
Grab a seat at the counter of your favorite watering hole to watch the bartender in action. The key to a crisp caipirinha is muddling (think mortar and pestle) the limes, releasing the oils from the skin, and mixing in the sugar (or simple syrup). This results in a mixed drink that delicately straddles the sour/sweet line—much like the margarita.
Which cachaça you use also affects the final product. Most of what’s available in this country is the mass-produced stuff. Look instead for the new generation of gourmet cachaças, including Cabana and Beleza Pura and Leblon. The latter goes a step further than the others, shipping its just-distilled product to France where it rests for three months in used Cognac barrels—think of it as finishing school for cachaça—resulting in extra complexity of flavors and aromas, and a softness on the palate.
Hoist your glass and toast saude (sa-oo-gee) (“health”) as the Brazilians do.
