I drank what
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-seven years and one million words
Today we ate at a local restaurant for lunch, a small treat from Mari's mum in honour of our departure. At the restaurant, there were bottles of liquor on display on a shelf, and one of these in particular caught my eye. Because it had about 25 dead hornets stewing in the bottom. When I moved the bottle to have a closer look, the bug corpses stirred up in a cloud of who knows what.
One of the restaurant owners noticed my looking. I asked her how much it cost, out of curiousity; it looked like it had been sitting there for years more as a decoration than anything else. She and asked if I wanted to try it. I said, "No, no, no! No, no."
Then she showed me a large jar of liquor with something large coiled in the bottom. A snake, nicely arranged around the bottom with fangs hanging down from a gaping mouth. I boggled. The snake went on gaping. Then I went and brought Kenny back inside from the parking lot to have a look.
Once we were all in the cars, one of the boys decided that he needed to go use the bathroom. I told Mari, "I should have tried that hornet alcohol."
She said, "We have time. Why don't you go? Bring Kenny."
So I did. The stuff tasted rather good, actually. I think it was shouchuu, but it was slightly more flavourful and sweet than shouchuu usually is. A bit closer to bourbon. I drank down the measure the woman had poured, and noticed an aftertaste that was like fusty leaves in Autumn.
Then the lady suggested that I try the snake drink. "No!" I declared, but Kenny was so interested that I relented.
In short, I had just enough of a sip to determine that it was one of the two worst alcoholic drinks I've ever had (along with some home-made Chinese stuff that my grandfather had bought from a fellow passenger on a train a decade before I'd tried it). This was something like a cross between greasy vegemite and the smell in the house when you suspect that something's gone off in the fridge. I don't know if dead-snake shouchuu ages or has a best before date but it was simply awful. I'd estimate that it ran at about 120 proof, as well.
And I kept burping the taste for the next hour, to my disappointment. Late when we went to a fun little road-side onsen for your feet (you literally pull over, shuck off your shoes, and dip your feet in the hot water), the staff there served us the semi-stewed hot rice mash that you sometimes encounter with Japanese food. I'd never been so happy to see the stuff in my life.
That was all about nine hours ago, and I'm still here to tell the tale, so the snake-fire-water didn't stop my heart. So you know; silver linings.